This is every wardens nightmare, the moment when all control is lost at the asylum. All video surveillance systems were disabled and no alarms were sounded as all the inmates glided wraith-like through the night to their predetermined positions. Then, pandemonium. They say that the darkest hour is just before dawn, and this is when I was rudely awakened to find myself the helpless victim of a vicious waterboarding session at the tongues of two…

I've always found it off-putting when someone says "Happy Memorial Day"; I know that they have the best of intentions, but it seems to me that a day of remembrance is not exactly a gala affair. The first indication when I began posting that there might be something else to this endeavour besides a narcissistic dog was when I received a PM at 0230 from a vet, "your post just helped me through a PTSD…

I came, I saw, I stuck around... 09:57; realize that dad is in The Chair; begin my ascent of Mt Dad; upon attaining the summit, claim my dominance by immobilizing his arms, begin liberally coating his face with dog spit, occasionally hooking a nostril with a canine. 10:03 hear mom rattle some plastic in the kitchen; with no regard for dad's tender vegetation, leap from the chair to investigate. 10:05 notice that dad has almost…

Someone just sent a message asking what's it feel like transitioning from a regular dog to a dog with her own Facebook page... it caused me to stop and think, I'm still a regular dog; I still bark at nothing, scoot across the carpet, nibble my own butt, occasionally drink from the porcelain bowl, then liberally slather dad's face with lukewarm dog spit. The only thing different is this awesome responsibility I feel to not…

At least a few of them, and they brought Stevie with them; not physically of course, but spiritually? No doubt about it. Last summer, Sunday mornings at the Casa usually found dad trying to defend his meager sugar stores against the swarming hordes of feathered micro velociraptors; while I would be destroying the morning quiet with my horking, charking, and galumphing around the back yard, Stevie was at her most content to hang out on…

When dad found the Miss Ellie, he realized that he was taking a pretty big chance on a 30 year old car with a bad ticker, but he's a pretty optimistic guy; some things work out due to careful planning(this is not the case where we're concerned) and some things just "work out". We knew that the Subie probably needed a new engine,but the whole situation just seemed to fit my story. The decision came…