AS A PET OWNER, I feel a natural impulse to care for my pets. The well being of my animal friends is uppermost in my mind. I take pains to buy them good food; to provide them with a safe place to live. I even go so far as to buy treats and toys for their benefit.
It all started out innocently enough. I had some meat left over from a stew I was making, and not wanting to waste it, I soaked it in teriyaki sauce and then left it in warm oven overnight. Next day: Beef Jerky!
I would not be able to lift this set, that was clear, but I wondered; is this heavy enough to crush me? How long would I be missed if I were to be crushed under a television? How long would it be before my pets stopped thinking of me as ‘poor dead Master’, and started thinking of me as ‘food’?
MY SURGERY WAS COMPLETE, so I returned to my humble abode, and did rest. A few beverages, a cold compress to reduce the swelling, and sleep.
THERE ARE FEW THINGS as near and dear to a man as the subject of reproduction. In particular, the tools he uses for the purpose of reproduction.
I had, of course, attracted the attention of my chattels, to wit: a 65lb white Shepard mix named Dojo, and a small black cat, Pyewacket. I do not normally share the bedtime snacks, but hope springs eternal in the belly of the cat and dog.
I WAS WALKING INTO THE OFFICE the other day, after a delightful 55 minute commute, when I noticed that there were going to be potential productivity problems. Specifically, my computer was gone. All of the cables, mouse, monitor, and other things were there, but no computer.
I DRIVE TO WORK. Thirty-five miles is the exact distance from the end of my driveway to the driveway of my workplace.
THE OCCASION WAS AUSPICIOUS. My wife and I were to sojourn to the Great State of Arkansas, (the Natural State) spend 24 hours with her sister and said sister’s spouse. After that, we would all travel in one vehicle North, until we had reached Missouri (The Show Me State), whereupon we would spend Thanksgiving with my wife’s Father, his wife, and her 2 children.
HAVING SERVED PROUDLY in the US Army, I find myself often asked about basic training – that initial period of indoctrination into the military. For myself, it was eight weeks at Fort Jackson, SC (The Palmetto State).