Family Dog "Relieved" to Have Incident Behind Her

“I don’t have to go looking for stuff to write about,” I told my neighbors one recent afternoon while standing in my driveway. “All I have to do is keep my eyes open.” Having just witnessed what happened a few moments earlier, they laughed and agreed. It all started with a phone call from my ten-year-old son. “Dad,” he calmly said, “Mom wants you to come home as soon as possible because Flash (our dog) has a fish hook stuck in his nose.” Upon arriving home, I noticed the dog was in good spirits, but she indeed did have a large fish hook stuck through one of her nostrils. The tip of the hook was visible on the outside of her nose, thus letting me know the thing was stuck good (or bad depending on your perspective). When I tell you that we decided to take some pictures of Flash, please understand that my family meant no disrespect or harm to the creature and that she was not in pain at the time. I texted a few pics to my oldest two sons who were out of town and some other folks who I thought would be interested. But the scene became less than humorous when my neighbor and I attempted surgery to remove the offensive hook. Let me next say that we have no idea how the fish hook worked its way into the dog’s snout, though my neighbor’s wife did discover a fishing bobber in the yard that looked like it had been chewed up by dog teeth. My wife’s job was to help my neighbor and I contain the poor canine while I performed surgery with wire cutters and needle nose pliers. My neighbor tried to cover Flash’s eyes with a bandana but this proved unsuccessful. At one point during the operation, a subdued Flash did what any red-blooded American dog would do. She relieved herself. At first it was number one. But it soon evolved into number two. And we were too far into the surgery to bail out due to the smell. We forged onward despite my neighbors’ wife and my youngest son bailing out and relocating to parts unknown. I’ll spare you further details of the “relieving” incident but I will tell you there was clear evidence to indicate that Flash had recently eaten a screw. Anyway, I was able to slice the hook into two pieces but I wasn’t able to push it all the way out. Of course we knew better than to try to pull it out, knowing that the hook’s barb would do even more damage on the way out. Eventually my neighbor, who had an angle better than me, pushed the hook the rest of the way out of the poor dog’s nose via the pliers. Hooray! After thirty seconds of subdued pouting, Flash jumped up and ran into the neighbor’s yard to play with her doggy friend. I gained a whole new respect for Flash that day. She’s tougher than I thought. And in her defense, I think under the circumstances I probably would have soiled the driveway, too. Of course, I am appreciative to Flash for providing material for yet another semi-entertaining column. And I will continue to keep my eyes open and my driveway hosed off.

Message from Flash

Hi, my name is Flash. My master insisted on placing this humiliating picture of me on his stupid blog, even after I requested that he not abase and degrade me by doing so. Yes, the item stuck in my nose is a fish hook. And yes, you can see the tip of it sticking out if you look hard enough. And yes, I did it on my own with no help. You can read all about my nightmarish experience if you read his silly little column in the paper on Sunday. If you don't get the paper, check back on this blog in a week or so, and I'm sure he'll post the whole stupid story. He can be a real jerk at times. Love to all, Flash

Display the Stars and Stripes With Pride

You may recall a few years ago when I penned a column about Rick Monday. He’s the big league baseball player who sprinted across the outfield and saved an American flag just before two protestors were about to burn it in centerfield. Monday will forever be known for saving the flag that day in 1976, a badge of honor he wears proudly. And many would call him a hero, though he prefers to reserve that title for those who have risked their lives in defense of the country. Though not to be confused with a religious symbol, many veterans will tell you that the flag they served under is as close to a sacred symbol as it gets. So much so that when I was in grade school, we were taught to never let the flag touch the ground. We were also taught that the United States of America has always stood for freedom, democracy, and the rights of the individual- though I will concede that our country at times has been imperfect in our implementation of policies consistent with those values. But my point is not to argue policies here. There are plenty of arguments and controversy enough to go around. But I don’t think the flag should be blamed for any of the shortcomings of its leaders and citizens. I submit to you that in the course of writing these columns, I have been labeled as overly patriotic by some. Regardless, I unashamedly love the Stars and Stripes. Never before in my life have I witnessed what I did while watching the news recently. Five California high school students were sent home because their t-shirts had pictures of a flag on them. The American flag. In California, which is one of the United States. There are too many details to discuss in this column and certainly there are two sides of this argument but the basic fact is this: the same flag that soldiers fought and died beneath to protect and defend democracy has been deemed as offensive by some legitimate authority figures within our country. In many respects, I understand the logic of the administrators who were trying to prevent altercations but I can’t say I agree with it. I agree more with one of the parents of the kids who stated, “It’s a sad, sad day in America.” I have friends in foreign countries that I love and appreciate. And I have a couple of flags from some of those countries that I treat with respect. In no way do I feel superior to my foreign friends when I gaze upon my country’s flag and sing the national anthem. And I hope my friends will always be free to display their flags proudly. And I hope for the same freedom to display our flag in my country as well. Our own court system has protected American citizens’ rights to burning the American flag in public. The most recent “flag on the t-shirt” controversy likely won’t make it to the Supreme Court, but if it did, I’d be curious to see where they would stand. Regardless of how it all shakes out, it is a sad state of affairs when Old Glory is offensive within our own country. Perhaps Rick Monday would agree.

Beward of Orange Hair This Summer

Once upon a time many years ago in my hometown, a teenage boy showed up at the local summer swimming pool sporting orange hair. When we accused him of putting lightener in his hair, he denied it vehemently. We knew better. Back then, many moons ago, all the teenagers wanted blonde hair during the summer. Because I was what one might call “dirty blonde” in those days, I didn’t have to put stuff in my hair to make it lighten up. It kinda happened naturally when I swam in the pool and dried off in the baking sun. But my friend with dark brown hair desperately craved the attention us blondies were receiving from the girls during the summer. So he bought a bottle of something called “Sun-In” and gave it his best shot. If you search for Sun-In on the internet, even today you will discover that your hair may turn orange if you have dark hair to begin with. But we didn’t have the internet back then and my friend’s hair was destined to resemble an orangutang’s. Of course he was forced to deny the experiment to cover himself. Even so it provided us a few laughs. The whole “blonde is better” phenomenon existed in both males and females alike. Some tried peroxide while others diluted lemon juice with water and squirted it in their hair every fifteen minutes or so while lying out on their towels. Looking back I realize it was mostly a colossal waste of time. Most experiments either failed or were noticeably unnaturally fake. And even when a success story emerged, it didn’t last more than a couple weeks. All that being said, I’m not much concerned about my hair color these days. I’m just thankful to still have enough up there to run my fingers through. And I don’t care what color it is, though I would describe it as closer to brown these days instead of dirty blonde. Instead of exposing their hair to the sun, women who get their hair dyed try to protect their topsides from it. Apparently solar rays aren’t agreeable to dye jobs. Just goes to show you how our bodies and our priorities change over the years as we grow older. Things that seemed monumental thirty years ago are largely irrelevant today. Instead of applying suntan lotion like I did in my youth, I am a huge fan of sunscreen these days. Back then we lathered ourselves in lotion, baby oil, and even butter at times to invite the sun to burn us quicker. But still we never resembled the Coppertone girl with the shiny hiney. Morons we were. No offense intended to my generation. And alas we paid the price. I’ve already been pretty much forced to have one of those facial chemo-cream treatments to wipe away damaged layers of my fair skin. The butter of many years ago was the likely culprit. Yet the more things change, the more they stay the same. Recently one of the Stroupe boys requested the purchase of suntan lotion for the summer. We quickly denied the request though I was tempted to tell him to grab some butter when his mom wasn’t looking. Nah, that wouldn’t be prudent, though I would consider letting him dye his hair orange. Just for laughs.