It's good to be back; I understand why dad felt the need he to post this weekend with it being the anniversary of the bag and all, but really? Sure, he makes a great chauffeur, but he needs to leave the writing to me. One of the benefits of presiding over the Casa del Whackos is the number of pilgrims we have had the privilege of entertaining, in some ways the descendants of the honorable…

...before the next printing... also, tomorrow is the last day of free shipping, so hit it while the hitting's good!

Dad here; two years ago today, everything went from good to not so good in a micro second. Mom questioned the wisdom of me wanting to revisit the scene of my near demise; all I could think of were the ten lepers that were healed by Jesus, and only one returned to offer thanks. As it turned out, this trip wasn't only for me. Charlie and I loaded up Miss Ellie and headed west for…

"One, two, three; lift!" Who are these people, and why are they levering me from one bed to another? And why do I have hoses and tubes inserted into every hole I have, and even into a few that someone has taken the liberty to add? And will the indignities never end? It appears that I'm now the proud owner of a shiny new colostomy bag, attached to my gut like some sort of plastic…

Charlie's out like a light from an apparent tryptophan overdose. Before anyone starts freaking out and turns me in to the ASPCA, tryptophan is the ingredient in turkey that causes drowsiness, and it appears that the Charles is remarkably susceptible to its properties. As promised, here's the story of the accident that ultimately led us to Charlie. It's a long tale, with many twists and turns, but bear with me; a lot of of miracles…

Unbeknownst to either of us, two years ago today two separate tragedies were working to bring dad and I together; mine was occurring due to a lifetime spent in the crate, and dad's was stealthily advancing on two wheels. Many have asked about my life BC(before Casa), but truthfully, I remember very little of my time before the crate. They say that sometimes an event can be so traumatic that your mind will erase any…