Stuck In The Middle With You

When you were growing up did you ever get the blame for something you didn't do or get in trouble because of someone else?  I think we all have at one time or another and I remember an incident that happened during my senior year of high school in math class.  My good pal Devery, who was well known as the class cIown, was goofing off in the class when our teacher Mr. Laverty told everyone to get back to the lesson after allowing us a little cut up time.  Well my old pal Dev had apparently lost his capacity to understand English which did not sit well with Mr. Laverty.  Now don't get me wrong, Mr. Laverty was one of the coolest teachers at our school but when he said it was time to get to work he meant it.  This guy was about six foot four and in pretty good shape (especially for an old guy).  During Summer breaks he was a steer wrestler or bull dogger (as it was called back in my day) and he farmed and ranched all year long. So there wasn't any need for him to spend time at the gym.  He was as strong as an ox and could swing a paddle harder than anyone else in the free world.  Every student in the school was well aware of this fact including Devery but for some reason he just couldn't shut up this particular day.  As Dev kept on jabbering, I was in complete compliance with the teachers previous instructions and had my face deeply planted into the math lesson as did everyone else. We all knew the consequences for disobeying his orders.  Suddenly I heard Mr. Laverty tell Devery to go to the principals office and every one of us knew what that meant..Two Super Sonic licks from Mr. Laverty's paddle.  A hush fell over the classroom and that's when I had a lapse in judgement.  I looked up from my work to watch Devery walk out the door and that's when Mr. Laverty saw me rubber necking and said "Howard, you aren't doing anything so you go with him".  Those words still echo in the deep recesses of my brain and I'm nearly fifty three years old.  Well to make a long story a little shorter, we both got a valuable lesson in physics and thermal dynamics that day. (Note to the reader: When a wooden paddle travels at super sonic speeds it doesn't burst into flames until that sudden impact against your rear end).  I found out many years later from my dad that Mr. Laverty told him what had happened that day and that I wasn't doing anything wrong that fateful afternoon but he knew I had got away with a couple of stunts earlier in the school year without getting caught and thought it was a good time to "catch me up" as Mr. Laverty put it.  WHAT!!!  I was innocent (of course I knew that already) but still punished for a crime I never committed or at least never caught doing!  Where was Perry Mason or Ben Mattlock when a guy needs a lawyer?  I think both my dad and Mr. Laverty still laugh about this little life moment today or at least my dad does.          
I tell you this because my heart went out to ole Red Dog the other day as he had to take one for the team as well.  As I mentioned in my last post, we now have a new Rhodesian Ridge Back by the name of Rosie.  She is a two month old pooping/peeing machine.  More water comes out of this little girl than a rain bird sprinkler and the odorous little gifts she leaves laying around the place are just plain gross.  How can so much "stuff" come out of one little body? I guess that is a question parents and dog owners alike have asked many times over the years.  I'm sure you have figured out by now that the potty training isn't going so well with Ms. Rosie but my wife Debbie has been a trooper through this whole messy ordeal and is working hard to teach Rosie the proper way for a young lady to potty.  Just when we think things are getting a little better we stumble across more rain puddles and mud slides if you get my drift.  Debbie has tried just about everything to get this little girl's attention but wow it's been tough.  She even volunteers Red Dog to go outside with Rosie in hopes he will teach her proper potty protocol (PPP) but at this point everyone is getting a failing grade.  I came home the other day to Debbie working her tail off cleaning every floor in the house in hopes of ridding the place of Ms. Rosie's special scent.  She was exhausted by the end of the day but watching Rosie like a hawk in hopes of having a potty free night. This morning around 6:00 am all seemed to be well in Potty Land when Debbie got up to let Rosie and Red Dog outside to take care of their morning chores and calisthenics then she let them back inside an hour later.  This is usually plenty of chore time for Red Dog but apparently not for Rosie.  As I am getting ready for work I heard a groan from the living room as Debbie caught Rosie doing a little splish'in and a splash'in on the tile floor.  As Debbie was scolding Ms. Rosie and putting her back outside Red Dog was making his way back to his bed at warp speed in an attempt to avoid any friendly fire but to no avail.  I heard Debbie call to Red Dog "go outside" and keep Rosie company.  Poor Red Dog still can't catch a break with the new mutt around and as I walked past the back door on my way to work there sat poor Red Dog with this sad pitiful look on his face like "what have I done'?  "I ate all my breakfast, drank all my water and took care of my morning business outside just like I was supposed to and I get stuck out here on this cold damp ground paying for Ms. Rosie's mistake".  It was at that moment in the early morning light of this cool winter morning that I had one of those "I understand your pain" like moments for Red Dog.  Mine came at the end of a math teachers powerful right arm and Red Dog's came at the end of a little furry four legged water sprinkler named Rosie.   

So I guess it goes to show you that life can be unfair to both man and beast but I think the key to survival is to be sure not to hang out with people who can't stop joking around or peeing on the floor.  This may not be life altering advice but it could help you avoid people with a bladder problem and poor sense of direction.  I think I will file this life lesson right behind the one where you shouldn't chew your fingernails after cleaning fresh chicken eggs.  Until the next adventure, God bless you all.                          

The Best Eggs Are Fresh Eggs

You know that old saying about a man's dog resembles and mimics his master and his habits.  Well it appears Red Dog is no different.  Debbie is always yakking at me about the things I eat, especially things that have been sitting in the refrigerator for arguably way to many days/weeks.  I am always digging around in there looking for an evening snack and when I find something that looks good or looked good a few days/weeks earlier, I grab it and start chowing down.  When she sees me walking into the room eating yesterday's/last week's left overs she nearly comes unhinged.  I usually remind her that I saw little to no unusual growth on the particular food product I was consuming just to reassure her it was safe to eat. But I don't think she believes in my ability to safely analyze refrigerated foods.  After her gagging subsides she sternly reminds me she will not be the one cleaning up any messes that might be created if I eat it.  So we have an unspoken agreement that if I mess it up, I clean it up which is only fair.  It appears Red Dog has picked up this ability to eat anything that doesn't eat him as well.  So the same clean up rule applies to Red Dog.  If he messes it up, I clean it up.  I am very happy to report that Red Dog has done extremely well in the house breaking department and has had very few accidents since he moved in.  I am even happier to report that my record in this department is even better than Red Dogs which is of great relief to my wife (no pun intended).  As you have read in the past, many things cause Red Dogs mouth to start watering which ranges from cat poo to spare ribs.  I'm on the same page as Red Dog when it comes to the spare ribs but he is on his own when it comes to the cat poo sprinkled with kitty litter.  Some of you may recall a FaceBook post many months ago where I had a very unpleasant experience while washing fresh chicken eggs and then chewing my finger nails.  For those who have never read that posting just let me say that I got to taste a part of the chicken that was never meant for human consumption and it is still my opinion that it didn't taste a thing like chicken.  
Speaking of chicken eggs, we found another food group that Red Dog likes almost as much as spare ribs today.  As you may or may not know my part of Texas is experiencing one of the worst droughts in state history with high temperature and very little rain over the past two years.  We are currently on water rationing and we are not allowed to water our grass, trees, plants, and flowers with city supplied water so things are pretty dry around here.  Debbie has about 30 chickens that have survived this two year drought thus far and egg production has been pretty poor.  Well the old girls have been doing their best to earn their keep lately and egg production slightly improved over the past few months.  During these hot summer days, Debbie has be going out right before sun down to gather eggs and she takes Red Dog along for protection in case she comes across unwanted critters.  It doesn't take her very long to gather eggs but she has this small zoo known as the DMZ (Debbie's Mini Zoo) and it takes around fourty minutes to feed, water and bed everyone down for the night.  After her chores were done I heard Debbie slam the back door yelling "that's it, you are staying outside for the rest of the night".  At first I thought she was yelling at me and so I automatically began pleading my case by pointing out I have been inside under the air conditioner watching T.V. all evening.  I quickly realize in the middle of her rant that she may not be yelling at me.  I immediately shut my mouth (a technique I have perfected over thirty years of marriage) because it makes no sense to confess to something you may or may not have done.  Fortunately for me, during the course of her rant I heard the words Red Dog and knew I was off the hook.
Apparently while Debbie was taking care of the DMZ Red Dog got hungry while on guard duty and began eating the eggs she had just gathered.  By the time Debbie noticed what Red Dog was doing he had gobbled up all of the eggs in her bucket.  I was biting my upper lip trying to keep a straight face in order to avoid the same fate as Red Dog.  As she told me what he had done the image of Steve McQueen eating fifty boiled eggs and lying on the bed with a full belly in the movie "Cool Hand Luke" kept running through my brain and I finally  lost it and just started laughing.  I don't think I won any favor with my sweet wife when that happened.  I then had the uncontrollable urge to go find Red Dog to see how big his belly was but when I got to the door I couldn't see him anywhere.  As Debbie stormed off to the bedroom I thought I might need to take a page out of Red Dogs play book and make myself scarce until she cooled down.  Later in the evening I saw Red Dog peering through the back door and he must have really liked those eggs because there wasn't even a drop of egg yolk on his chin.  He looked pretty sad staring through the window while serving out his back yard sentence this particular evening.
So today I found out that Red Dog and I not only like a good spare rib but we both like our fair share of scrambled eggs.  After laughing at my wife I also found out how well my wireless internet router works from the back yard.  By the way Red Dog says "tjcwtd cxdvm xdkelszxl asdl.lo xzp;xz" which needs to be translated because Red Dog doesn't have fingers and has to type with his paws: Until the next adventure God bless you all.                                 
                

A Red Dog Rib Alert.

Laser locked on a rack of ribs in kitchen

Well it's been a while since my last story but there hasn't been much going on in Red Dogs world the past few weeks.  It has been so hot and dry here in North Texas that Red Dog is doing what everyone else is trying to do...Stay COOL...Although we don't have a pool or at least I haven't caved in to Debbie's pressure to have one built.  Red Dog has been using Debbie's fish pond as his private swimming hole to beat the heat this summer.  He goes to the back door and sits there until we let him outside.  Sometimes he whines about it and other times he doesn't.  Once outside he goes through a ritual of raiding as much cat food as he can hold then heads for a little dip in the fish pond without hesitation.  Once in a while he gives me the ojo during his little soaks like I'm his personal cabana boy and he is waiting on me to bring him a cool drink or dry towel.  I like ole Red Dog quite a bit but not well enough to be his cabana boy.  As the Geico Lizard would say "Forget about it!!!"  But one thing is for sure, there is no mistaking when he wants back inside under the air conditioner.  First he will start off with a little whimper in an attempt to get our attention and if that isn't successful he starts growling and making louder noises.  When all else fails he will break out the "Sonic Woof" until we open the door or the neighbors call about the noise.  I really don't blame him because it's so darn miserable outside but it sure can disrupt a good Sunday afternoon nap.  Once inside he's just like the rest of us and goes to his most comfortable place in the house for the rest of the day.  
We had some good friends come over for supper the other evening and they brought "Smoked Ribs" and that put Red Dog on high alert.  If you remember back to one of our first adventures I found out quickly that Red Dog was a rib junkie as he inhaled three ribs off of my plate in a matter of seconds after placing it on the arm of my easy chair while I answered the phone.  And if you will also recall Debbie caught him lying on top of the dinning room table thinking it was a proper place to take a nap soon after he moved here.  For these two reasons Red Dog is banished from the kitchen and from being around the dinner table.  Well the other night as the aroma of smoked ribs filled the house you could easily find Red Dog.  He staged himself just inches outside the kitchen area in hopes that someone would fumble a rib to the floor.  It was funny to watch him.  It must have taken every ounce of his willpower not to enter the kitchen and beg for a snack.  Red Dog sat there at attention like a guard at Buckingham palace but with his eyes locked on our every move just hoping for some rib manna from heaven to fall his way.  I never heard a peep out of him the whole time we were eating but he never moved an inch away from the kitchen door either.  He behaved himself so well we couldn't let the evening end without a reward.  Debbie headed toward the back door with a plate of rib bones and Red Dog's tree branch of a tail started moving like an airplane propeller.  As soon as the door open he darted outside like a lighting bolt and eagerly waited for the rib feast to begin.  He had been preparing for this moment all evening long and I could have sworn I saw a rib bib on him as he dove into the middle of his smokey treat.  I'm not sure how many rib bones Debbie gave him but it was plenty.  Red Dog made them disappear faster than David Cooperfield could make a woman disappear from a box and with far less drama.  So Red Dog just laid around the house the next day with his belly full of rib bones and and smile on his face.  All has been right in his world ever since.   
There is some good news from what I called his "Make Me Sick Adventure".  A few weeks after Maddie headed back to Lubbock with our kids Red Dog kicked his cat poop eating habit cold turkey and I am hopeful it will "NEVER" return.  I guess if I keep feeding him rib bones that will lessen the temptation.  
So it was a double header win in Red Dog country this past week.  Nothing really exciting or hilarious to write about but I did get a little chuckle out of Red Dog eyeballing those ribs the other night.  Until the next adventure.  God bless you all.      

Bad Habits Make Me Sick

Ms. I Will Teach You To Eat Cat Poop Maddie and Mr. I Will Gladly Learn To Eat Cat Poop Red Dog

Well Red Dog has picked up a few bad habits from a couple of his pals over the past few weeks and is in deep dodo with my wife over them.  Since Reed, our youngest, has moved home Red Dog has been hanging out in his room all hours of the day because he has been letting Red Dog sleep on the bed with with him.  That's against the house rules around here but Red Dog is still getting away with it at times.  You have to realize this is a seventy five pound hairy pony lying around on the furniture and Red Dog is shedding like crazy this summer which creates a lot of extra work for Debbie around the house.  I will admit that Red Dog is pretty sneaky about not getting caught.  He reminds me of my friends little boys when they were little sneaking cookies from the kitchen to their bed rooms.  

I was over visiting my friend in his living room one afternoon when I noticed something out of the corner of my eye.  At first I was not sure what was going on so Matt and I kept on talking.  After a couple more minutes of conversing I noticed some small blurred images flashing in and out of my peripheral vision.  I finally had to stop our conversation to watch what was going on.  Matt's two young sons were sneaking from their bedroom where they were supposed to be taking a nap into the kitchen to swipe cookies off of the counter top.  They would peak around the corner waiting for us to look away then dart across the floor to the cookie jar then repeat the maneuver when returning to the safety of their bed room.  I must admit it was a well thought out plan as we found out after some semi serious parental interrogating.  Those two little boys had taken the lid off the cookie jar prior to going to bed in order to eliminate any jar noise during their cookie heist.  I considered their plan a successful failure because they went to the well one time to many and got caught.  We found a large cache of cookies hidden in their bunk beds and I snicker when I think about how many times they had to sneak around us to get such a stock pile.  

Red Dog is being very cautious when it comes to catching him sleeping on the furniture.  He must be sleeping with one eye open and one ear to the air listening for me headed toward the bed room because every time I head that way he is already trotting down the hallway as though nothing is wrong.  There is some evidence that he has been sleeping on the bed but it's difficult to tell as there isn't much difference in the cleaning habits of a seventy five pound dog and a twenty year old boy.  I have only caught Red Dog once and I made it very clear that its not allowed but I'm pretty certain he has continued to lounge on the furniture when I am not looking.  Wow, it just hit me that Red Dog is acting like my twenty year old just without the smartalec remarks.  Maybe those two should move in together.  Oh, wait they did and at my house.  Maybe some day I'll catch a break.  

As annoying as it is to have Red Dog sneaking around sleeping on the beds the next little habit he picked up from his pal Maddie is just plain gross.  The other day Debbie could hear some weird crunching noises coming from the guest bathroom so she went to investigate.  As she walked into the room she could see Red Dog with his head under the cabinet where the cats litter box is kept.  As she got closer she notice Red Dog was eating the cat poop out of the litter box and it appeared he was enjoying it.  OH MY LORD, WHAT IS WRONG WITH THIS CRAZY DOG!!!  We have had Red Dog over a year now and he has never done anything like this "EVER".  Debbie went into this grossed out rigor and chased Red Dog out of the room.  Where and when did he pick up this filthy habit.  Now I know that dogs do this when they are outside and that is gross enough on it's own but when you add the crunching noise of the cat litter it brings it to a whole new level of gross.  The thing that grossed me out the most, and I have seen a lot of gross things in my medical career, is that it was the exact loud sound you hear in your head when you eat a bowl of Grape Nuts breakfast cereal and it looked just like Tootsie Rolls covered in gray sprinkles.  It makes me nauseated and gives me the willies just thinking about it.  (Quick note to self:  Tell Debbie to scratch Grape Nuts off the shopping list).  If there are any pluses about this nasty little habit it's that Red Dog doesn't have stinky breath so we must be buying a good brand of cat litter.  After telling this story to the kids our Lubbock daughter confessed that Maddie does the same thing and they have to block her from the litter box. After more discussion we calculated that Red Dog didn't start this nasty little habit until Maddie came for a weekend visit a few weeks ago.  Thanks Maddie.  

Now we have a dog with a "SONIC" bark who likes to eat cat poop with kitty litter and has the freshest smelling breath in the neighborhood.  This dog ownership thing just keeps getting better and better.  What will happen next around here?  Will the cats start laying eggs, the chickens start chasing cars, the grey squirrels crow like a rooster at sun rise, or my twenty year old son clean that pig sty he calls a bedroom.  Who knows what strange events will take place out here at the DMZ (Debbie Mini Zoo for those who aren't familiar with this Texas Red Dog Adventure acronym).  But one thing is for sure Red Dog has to change his choice of snacks before I throw my guts up because I can't continue to type and vomit at the same time.  Until the next less gross adventure, God bless you all.                      

Table Napping Not Allowed

Red Dogs Favorite hiding and sleeping place.  Don't ask me why it's behind the bed room curtains???

I have told you this before but there was much debate on whether Red Dog was going to live outside or inside when he moved in.  The definition of "much debate" in the Howard House is my wife explaining to me how we are going to do something over and over again.  And as you have also read before, Red Dog won a landslide vote to live indoors but as we found out you can't always change outdoor habits.  
The other day Debbie was busy cleaning in my man room and then she was working on her flower garden in the back yard when she came in to cool off and get a drink of water.  As she walked through the dining room,she sees Red Dog stretched out lying on his stomach staring out the back door.  The only problem Debbie had with what he was doing was the location in which Red Dog chose to lie down.  To Red Dogs surprise, indoor living has rules that he was unaware of.  You just don't go and lie down where ever it suits you and the place that suited Red Dog was on top of Debbie's dining room table.  She couldn't believe what she was seeing.  An 85 pound lion hunter camping out on top of her 10 place table as though he was actually supposed to be there.  Well Red Dog got a taste of his own medicine.  In stead of the SONIC WOOF we get to hear from Red Dog all the time, Red Dog got to hear the  SONIC YELL "GET DOWN, GET DOWN, GET DOWN" from the my lovely five foot four inch wife.  Red Dog doesn't have a thing on Debbie when she decides to make herself heard.  Red Dog did what any male would do when the woman of the house starts yelling at them (Note to readers:  For the record my loving, sweet, kind hearted, merciful, forgiving, beautiful wife has never yelled at me like that so I am just assuming I know how Red Dog was feeling during this moment).  He ran for his life.  When Debbie told me what he did it got me wondering what posessed him to do that.  My imagination starting running wild and here is the answer I came up with.
Red Dog, although kind and lovable, is bred to hunt lions on the African Savannah.  So being a good hunter, he took the high ground in order to search for possible large game.  I can see him patiently sitting high atop a hill or small rock formation scanning the landscape for the rogue lion that has created chaos in the local village. I think that is really cool.  But unfortunately for Red Dog there aren't many lions in Seymour Texas.  I'm sure while living on the ranch that he came from, he spent many days lying in high places scanning the rolling plains of North Texas in search of something to hunt.  My wife went to Namibia Africa last year and she said that the Namibian landscape looked a lot like Texas so I think that it would be an easy thing for Red Dog to imagine.  But when it comes to indoor living those types of habits are considered bad manners, especially when you are turned into a city slicker.  So I don't blame Red Dog for wanting to relive a few moments of his outdoor life.  There are days I catch myself walking across the yard whirling my right arm in the air as I imagine myself  roping cattle in the pasture.  I guess guys just need to escape into the deep recesses of our minds once in a while to relive our younger days of adventure.  
Well after the "SONIC YELLING" was over things returned back into a peaceful day.  Debbie headed back to her flower garden and Red Dog got his hearing back.  I'm sure Debbie thought she had made her point "VERY CLEARLY" that dreaming on her dining room table will NOT be tolerated.  But like many of us guys, Red Dog had a short memory.  About an hour later Debbie walked in the same door into the same dining room for the same cool drink to find the same Red Dog lying on top of the same dining room table probably daydreaming of the same adventure...Again...Now I'm not sure if there are words that can indicate something louder than SONIC BOOM but it was obvious that the words ATOMIC BLAST could describe Debbie's reaction when she found Red Dog back on the table.  Red Dog once again started running for his life but this time it would be of no use.  There was no way Debbie was letting him off the hook for a second offense.  She used every ounce of her Cherokee/Creek heritage to track down Red Dog to his favorite hiding place.  Now I'm pretty sure that most Indians did not yell "GET DOWN GET DOWN GET DOWN" as the tracked buffalo across the Plains but it was the tactic Debbie used as she tracked down poor ole Red Dog.  Growing up in the 1970's, when I hear the words "GET DOWN GET DOWN GET DOWN" all I hear is K.C. and the Sun Shine Band rock'in out in my head but that wasn't any help to Red Dog.  Debbie broke out her "ANGRY MAMMA" voice and the tail chewing was on.  At one point Red Dog looked at me with those big sad yellow/brown eyes and all I could do was shrug my shoulders.  There was no way I was getting in the way of that angry Indian with all of those fireworks going off.  I have learned a thing or two after 30 years of marriage.  Well Red Dog took his tail chewing like a man (as most of you husbands can understand) and life around the Howard house quieted down once again. 

Red Dogs new dreaming location.  The foot of our bed.

Sometimes it's hard to break old habits but sometimes it's nice to relive the old days in your mind as well.  There is no doubt that ole Red Dog is still dreaming of days on the African Savannah or his life protecting the North Texas ranch house because he barks and growls in his sleeps but now he does it at the foot of our bed and not on top of the dining room table.  Red Dog is still the best dog ever, even though he is still adjusting to indoor living.  Until the next adventure, God bless you all.        

He Eats Anything.

When Red Dog came to live with us last year he was a seventy five pound, nine month old eating machine and my first thought was "how much does a small indoor pony eat", especially since I have never kept livestock indoors. Being an indoor dog was not in my initial plans but I had forgotten to consult my wife as to what "my plans" should be.  I voted he stay outside and she voted for inside.  Apparently the election system in the Howard house works much like it does in Russia only I was given a second chance to cast my vote correctly. Indoor Red Dog won by a landslide.  It was thrilling to watch our household political machine in action.  He now lives a life of air conditioning, heating, and large white porcelain drinking fountains that fit him perfectly.  Now that the indoor/outdoor issue was settled my thoughts shifted back to the food question and here is what I found out rather quickly.  Red Dog will eat anything. 

It was a beautiful spring evening around 5:00 pm which is supper time at our house and my hungry tummy was reminding me that we had left over pork ribs from my favorite BBQ restaurant "Smokey Bros".  Large meaty, juicy, smoked pork ribs with homemade BBQ sauce.  I could hear the "I want my baby back baby back" ribs song playing in my head and couldn't wait to heat them up.  As the ribs started to warm up the aroma in the kitchen became intoxicating.  I think my feet left the ground a few times when I took a deep breath.  Oh it smelt so good and the timer on the microwave seemed to be moving at a snails pace.  I could hardly wait. (My wife says I'm way too passionate about BBQ and I told her that if they could bottle the smell of smoked ribs and brisket into a perfume we would make the Duggars look like beginners.  She doesn't see the humor in that statement).  Suddenly I heard the "Bing" of the microwave and I danced my way to the kitchen.  When I walked in, there sat Red Dog looking upward as though manna was preparing to fall from heaven and he was right.  His tail was wagging so fast you could see grout drifting across the tiles on the kitchen floor.  He was definitely ready for some ribs but so was I.  Red Dog was forgetting that he eats out of the shiny chrome bowl and I eat off the nice china with the floral print.  (Oh my Lord, I just said china with a floral print.  What's next, a discussion about shabby chic.  I better get back to the ribs).  When I plated the ribs they smelled and looked W.O.N.D.E.R.F.U.L.!!!!  I grabbed a large glass of ice tea at the end of the cabinet and started toward my favorite chair as though I was carrying the crown jewels.  The Texas Rangers were playing on the big screen and I could hear Tim Allen doing the man grunt..AR AR AR AR AR AR..in my head.  Suddenly my hospital phone rang.  While still in my rib intoxicated state, I put the plate on the arm of my chair and ran to answer my phone.  I returned in a matter of two minutes and found my plate exactly where I had left it but there were no pork ribs in sight.  I stared at the empty plate with amazement.  It looked as clean as a new car on the show room floor.  There wasn't even a drop of rib juice left.  Oh no, where in the world did the ribs go?  Then it hit me, "WE" now have a "indoor dog".  I scanned the room looking for Red Dog.  There he was sitting about ten feet from my chair, tail still wagging with a smile on his face and a small drop of BBQ sauce on his lower lip.  His chest was sticking out as though he was just named valedictorian of his graduating class at obedience school.  I don't think I have ever seen a happier dog.  He was plenty proud of himself and didn't have any problem showing it.  I looked for something.  A bone, a piece of bone, even a bone with some rib meat left on it.  There was nothing and I mean nothing.  This mutt had inhaled those ribs like Bluto inhaled green jello in the movie "Animal House".  Not only was I shocked, I was heartbroken.  The aroma was still lingering in the air as I sat down in disbelief. 

Not long after that, as a welcome to the family gift for Red Dog, my wife bought him a big fluffy doggie mattress to sleep on.  She thought this would make his new life with us more comfortable after sleeping outside when he lived on the ranch.  One night we heard him growling and snarling at the foot of the bed.  This wasn't much of a surprise since we had heard him doing this before and figured he was battling lions in his dreams.  But this time it was a little different.  There was some additional noise echoing in the darkness, so I got and turned on the light to see what was going on.  There was Red Dog standing over his new sleeping mat jumping up and down on it with his from paws tearing the stuffing out it.  Turning on the light did not slow him down one bit (or bite you might say), he kept on ripping away.  He was either sleep walking/sleep killing or very fond of the taste of that particular fabric?  To this day I'm still not sure which it was but he looked pretty funny making a mess on the bed room floor.  So Red Dog no longer has a comfortable bed to sleep on because of his taste for cheap fabric. I might also add he did the same thing to all the cushions on the lawn furniture as well.  That darn dog. 
       
If pork ribs and cheap fabric are Red Dogs favorite things to eat then a carry out foam box could be his next favorite.  A few weeks later I was cleaning leftovers out of the fridge and threw it all into one of those white foam carry out boxes used at most cafes.  Red Dog was playing in the back yard so I took him the leftovers as a little afternoon snack. Well I couldn't find his plastic food dish anywhere.  He had probably carried it off to one of his quiet places in the yard to chew it apart.  So without thinking, I put the foam box down on the patio for him to eat when he finished goofing off.  About an hour later I happened to look out the back door to see white debris all over the yard.  Red Dog ate the leftovers then apparently started in on the carryout box for dessert.  All I could see was a big mess I needed to clean up before my wife got home from shopping and I couldn't see Red Dog anywhere.  I stepped outside and whistled for him just to make sure he wasn't somewhere on place choking to death from a foam box.  As I was waited on him to come running I caught a glimpse something out of the corner of my eye.  It was big, it was red, and it was all wet. It seems Red Dog needed an after lunch swim in my wife's twenty foot fish pond she built in the back yard. (I was hoping he had waited one hour before jumping in because neither one of us wanted to be in trouble with the boss).  I wasn't sure how much of that foam box he had ate but it appears he was not having any trouble keeping his head above water.  I swear he had on a pair of sunglasses, floating on his back, sipping ice tea through a straw with a little umbrella in it, and letting his worries just drift away while relaxing in his own private spa.  At least that's how I was picturing it in my mind.  Red Dog appeared to be enjoying himself quit sufficiently living the good life. 

I guess the biggest things I learned about Red Dog since he has came to live with us are... 1)  Pork ribs make him very happy.  2)  Doggie mattresses taste good.  3)  A foam box helps him swim better.  4)  He will eat anything that I don't eat first.  Until the next adventure, God bless you all.