Mr. Popularity

Remember this little guy? Ernie was a Christmas present to the wife and kids. But he also has another job. He “works” with me at the golf course.

Last winter we had a problem with migratory coots. Hundreds of these coots try to make MVCC their home for the winter. They are a huge problem. All they do is eat our newly seeded grass and crap all over the place. The members wanted the coots to go away. When you buy a membership for $80,000 and pay monthly dues of $850 you don’t want to have to putt through bird shit.

Nelson thought getting a “bird chasing“ dog for the golf course would help, but he didn’t want to take care of one.

Sherri wanted a Labrador retriever, but she didn’t think we had a large enough yard to accommodate such an energetic dog.

Like peanut butter and chocolate, the my two problems turned into an unbeatable combination. Both my family and the members at MVCC love Ernie. Sometimes I think more than me. When I get home from work, “ERNIE! YOU’RE HOME! Oh, hey dad.”
When Ernie is with me in my cart members will stop me, “How is Ernie today?” God forbid they ask how I am. That’s OK; I love the BIG guy too.

One of our fertilizer vendors has asked local golf courses with dogs to submit pictures for their 2009 calendar. So I am going to send in a picture of Ernie. I thought I would post the three that I have narrowed it down to and let you guys, “The Cult of Malathion” help me decide.


A.












B.










C.






















This may be my favorite, but I'm not sure it is "calendar" material.

Teacher's Pet

It was a proud day for the Malationman. His boy Ernie graduated from beginner dog training class at Petsmart. If there were a class valedictorian it would have been Ernie. While all the other “students” took their final exam on a leash, the instructor surprised the entire class by making Ernie try it without one. No problem. We should get the intermediate class for free!

I recommend the classes to all my friends with dogs. It was about $100 for 8 weeks of instruction. If you are good and practice like you are supposed to, you will see results. You could really tell which pet owners took the class seriously and got their money’s worth.

Ernie will sit, lie down, come when called, and stay. Also, he walks on a leash without trying to dislocate my shoulder. It may not seem like much, but having these commands mastered is nice.

It's Tough Being Ernie

My life is “ruff” rough.

I get up everyday at 4 am. I eat a healthy breakfast of lamb and rice and take my daily vitamin. Then I go to work.

The drive isn’t too long, about 10 minutes. It would be shorter but everyday the guy I drive with stops at Circle K to buy a diet coke. Dude needs to give that stuff up.

At work I have a meeting with the crew before they set up the golf course. Some guy named Oscar usually says he is going to have a carne asada with me, or was it have me for carne asada.

If it is the latter, he couldn’t catch me. I’m too fast. Every time I find a piece of goose or coot that the coyotes have left behind my “master” tries to take it away from me. He looks pretty silly chasing me around so he quit doing it. I just get to chew on it until I’m finished.

One thing he still can’t handle is my affinity for bird crap. I love that shit. I know I’m supposed to chase these geese and coots because they eat the grass seed and poop all over the place, but if he would just leave me alone out there I would at least clean up all of their mess. It would be better than all you can eat shrimp night at Sizzler.

A couple of hours of riding in a golf cart and running around the lakes chasing birds can make a guy tired, so I head back to the shop. I’ll usually settle down in the office with a knucklebone. The chef at the restaurant sets me up whenever he has veal in the kitchen. When I’m done gnawing on that bone for an hour or so its naptime.

After I’m done with my siesta I’ll ride around with the boss and check on the crew. The golf course now has a lot of players on it. Big bossman will stop occasionally to say hi to some of the members. They really don’t talk to him that much; they usually talk to me! They often ask me how many coots I’ve killed today. I say, “None, but I’ve been eating their shit and now I’m licking you with my tongue!”

On the ride home I prepare myself for the second half of my day. That means I have about 30 minutes to rest before the kids get home from school.

I put up with a lot from those kids, especially that little red head. She won’t leave me alone. One day she had me wearing her wiener dog pajamas. It is bad enough that I’m wearing her PJs but do they have to be wiener dog PJs?

Which brings me to the topic of wiener dogs. What’s up with the wiener dogs in this house? Splinter and Mia don’t let me have jack. They are always stealing my stuff. I’ll be chewing on a toy and if I turn my head for a second, poof toy is gone. Those little sausages never let me on the bed or couch either. I sit there and bark at them to let me up and they sit there and snap at me like alligators. It’s just not fair.

Hot Dogs and Pupsicles

Conversation between father and son while driving home.

“Hey Dad, what smells good? It’s making me hungry!”
“You don’t want to know.”

The problem was that we were not driving by a restaurant. We were driving by the local veterinarian. I had noticed this before, lots of smoke coming out of a large smokestack on the property, and the smell of BBQ. No, it is not a Vietnamese vet.

I don’t know if I could bring myself to take my dog to a place that disposes of the not so lucky patients.

Then there is this alternative.

Back in the early 90’s I worked for Domino’s Pizza. One of the restaurants that I worked at was in a strip mall, right next to a veterinarian. This guy didn’t incinerate the unlucky ones; he froze them. I guess he had a freezer that he kept the corpses in until a truck came to pick them up. There were many nights that we watched the heartless “pick up” guy toss frozen dogs and cats from inside the building into the back of his van. It was a long toss too, maybe 15 to 20 feet. Sometimes a leg would break off, but it was frozen solid so it wasn’t too gross, just sad. We made lots of gross jokes, but I think we all thought deep down inside, those pets deserved better.

So on the topic of pets let me introduce you to the new member of my house. His name is Ernie. He is a 13-week-old Labrador retriever. Sherri had a Lab when she was a teenager and always wanted another one. We also think the kids should get the opportunity to have a puppy when they are young, so Christmas morning we sprung Ernie on the kids. It was quite the feat hiding the little guy all day Christmas Eve Day.

How Are Frogs Like Sponges?

…They dry up when you leave them out of water. It takes about 8 hours and then they will shrivel up and die. What’s really cool is if you put them back in the water they will rehydrate, just like a sponge, but unfortunately they don’t start living again.

How do I know this great stuff? I have my friend Nelson to thank for that.

Back in August I took a little vacation. Nelson agreed to look after the small zoo that lives in my home. We have two weenie dogs (Splinter and Mia), two goldfish (Sally and Hammerhead), and one toad (Rosie) that Alissa and I found on the golf course.

I had promised Austin that we would go out and find a toad for him too, but that never happened.

Alissa loved that toad. She was about the size of a nickel when we found her. Like we know if it was a female. We fed Rosie small crickets and kept her in an aquarium with plenty of water. She was about the size of a 50-cent piece at vacation time.

Well I get the call from Nelson on the way home that there had been a death in the family. While he was cleaning out the aquarium he forgot to put the water bowl back in. When he came back, he found the dried up remains of Rosie.

Good guy Nelson went to Petco and purchased Alissa a frog, not a toad, to replace Rosie. He also bought one for Austin. He said that it might pass for Rosie, but that we could decide on what to tell Alissa. Rosie 1 was all gray. Rosie 2 is green with red spots on her entire underbelly. Then there would have to be an explanation for Rock, the frog he bought for Austin. I’m not sure what he was thinking.

The guys at work told me later that the poor dude was pitifully looking all around the golf course for a toad to replace Rosie. It was the running joke at MVCC for weeks. I thought Sherri had the best one though. Nelson called to talk a few days later and Sherri answered the phone, “Hey Nelson, my dogs don’t come to their names anymore.”

When we got home from vacation, the first thing Alissa wanted to do was check on Rosie. We didn’t say a word. Who knows, maybe she wouldn’t know. I thought it was working until “Mr. Helpful” Austin comes in the room, “That’s not Rosie!” The boy almost died that night.

The story we told her was that Rosie escaped while Nelson was cleaning the tank.

So how do I know that it takes about 8 hours to dry up a frog? Rock met the same fate that “Rosie 1” did this morning. Austin did exactly the same thing Nelson did. He fed Rock before he went to bed and forgot the water. You wouldn’t think they would dry up so fast. You also wouldn’t think my kids would think if they put him back in water he would come back. They did, and Rock puffed back up, just like a sponge. Close, but no banana. I got to flush Rock when I got home from work.

Lick Them While You Can

Yes, I wake up to that view sometimes, but not for long.

Last week we noticed Splinter had blood in his pee. He had the same problem about 5 months ago. His prostate has been getting infected for whatever reason. The vet mentioned getting Splinter neutered last time we visited. This time she told us to get him neutered.

I don’t know why, but I was genuinely bummed out for the little guy. The vet could see it in my face. How stupid is that! She actually said, ”It’s OK daddy, he’ll be alright”.

By the way, that is not a staged picture. We have a ceiling fan over the bed and he likes the breeze on his family jewels! He’s a smart dog.

Sorry...

… nothing to talk about but puke. I was not selected for a jury today. My civic duty has been served this year. So my post today is about dog vomit.

Last night as I was finishing off another one of my bitchin blog entries, Mia my female dachshund, walks up to the desk and leaves a barf deposit at my feet. Why she thought I needed to partake in its steamy hot goodness I don’t know. There is nothing like that warm feeling in your hand as you clean up fresh dog puke, unless of course your are cleaning up fresh dog diarrhea. That would be later in the night.

Apparently the trouble making brother and sister team of Splinter and Mia had been up to no good earlier in the day. Sherri had informed me that the two of them had some how eaten an entire lemon cake. I would guess Mia had eaten most of it by the size of her belly. Splinter must have knocked it off of the kitchen table, while Mia eagerly waited below. I know this because we have seen Splinter on the kitchen table before. If you leave a chair pulled out just a little, he will be on the tabletop checking things out.
When Sherri had got home from picking up Alissa from school, all that was left of the cake was an empty container on the floor.

It reminds me of the dachshunds in The Ugly Dachshund. I have always had these dogs as pets, and they have always been little troublemakers. That’s probably why I like them so much.