When do dogs quit being pups, or kids become adults, for that matter? Hopefully never, as far as I'm concerned. Friday morning at the Casa starts like most others, with Mia, Max and I "showing out", wallering, thrashing, pouncing, flouncing, shovel-heading, all in an attempt to get dad's attention. Even though we're "adult" dogs (yeah, right), we never lose the desire to relax in the presence of someone who we perceive as being a bit…

Dad here; one of my favorite stories is actually told by an older friend of mine, I'll just call him "Jim", as that's actually his name. To describe Jim as eclectic would be a massive understatement, in addition to being a master craftsman, he's also an aspiring herpetolgist; his wife Barbara is, shall we say, considerably less enthusiastic with Jim's reptilian interests. They live out in the country, and somehow a harmless king snake got…