Wedding Shoes.

Dear Liebe: 24 September 05

Sure has been an interesting week. I got loose a couple times, went down the road and found a good cat food snack. Stuff tastes great, but the throw-up in the kitchen when I come back usually gets Briggie unhappy with me. Hey. Get this: I am learning to compute, search the web, and how to buy stuff!!

Yesterday evening, Briggie wanted Chief to buy shoes for this big wedding deal in New York City. They took me along to the Fred Meyer store, but made me stay in the car. Briggie left her phone in the car…the Chief had his along, and turned it on by accident. I got to hear play by play for an hour!

Chief must have tried on 10 pairs of shoes: “This one rubs my toe, this one rubs my heel” he would whine, then they would get out more shoes. Finally the salesman said, ”Sir, your right foot is a wide size 12, and your left foot is a narrow 11. NO, we cannot split pairs of shoes. How would you like to proceed?”

I could hear Briggie in the background telling Chief that she didn’t like the colors.So they left and we came home.

Chief said, “You know, we have had really good luck with Cabela’s. Why don’t I just order shoes by internet? I bet they have something just right for a wedding on Long Island beach.” (There is a wild place in WA called Long Beach.)

“So he starts teaching me how to compute and search and buy things on computer. We scrolled through Cabela’s shoe stuff, and finally found what he liked. He let me pull up a picture and Briggie checked it out, said “Ok”. So then we ordered the shoes On-line. I tapped my paw on ENTER and presto, we get an email from Cabela’s that shoes are on the way.”

I am sure glad I have learned to compute. If you get Brian to teach you, look at all the neat stuff you can order

“Tough part of all this is that for the wedding, I have to stay and guard Mack and Nancy’s house in Vancouver. Hit this link, and you will see Chief’s fancy wedding and dancing shoes: Chief's Choice of Wedding Shoes

My Mustang Adventure

Dear Liebe: Sept 13, 05

I hear your Danidoodle mom and EJlittlesprout made it home ok. Bet you are glad. I guarded the house while Briggie took them to airport.

We had exciting evening last night. I took Chief for his 10 o’clock” bigout” long walk, before his hot chocolate and night sleep. Usually this is a pretty mundane stroll with only dodging loud little black cars that come storming up the hill.

This walk started off normal. There were nice looking cars and quiet people at the Miller house when we walked by. We walked part way up 122 avenue hill. One of the cars, the red mustang, came out the road and went down the 279 hill as we were walking back. It was not going fast as when boys drive, so I guess it was teenage girls driving.

When the car reached the bottom of the hill, there was a whole lot of screeching and sliding noise, and then there were headlights pointed up the hill at us and then a “Smack” sound.” Chief didn’t know what happened but because I have good dog hearing and good dog nose, I could smell the burned tire treads, and distinguish the sounds of gravel when the car spun out and slid partially off the road into the ditch and blackberry bushes.

Right away I knew there was a problem so I quickly drug the Chief back to the Miller house. What a chore! Don’t even think of trying to fast-drag a 200 pound man wearing worthless shoes for any great distance. He is really heavy and I was really huffing and puffing by the time I got him to the Miller porch.

The people in the car called the Millers just as we got to the house, turns out they were ok. Then Mr. Miller and Chief and I got the Miller Truck ”Ready to Rescue Damsels in Distress” with stuff like winches, pry bars, and tow cables, etc.

When we arrived down at spin out land, I quickly checked under the car. It was just a normal car underside with gravel, old dirt, smelly grease, all good stuff to a dog. I didn’t stay under there very long, because I didn’t want to get in the grease and then leave it all over inside the immaculate Miller truck. The car only had a couple scratches and the young lady was able to drive it out of the ditch, so we returned to Miller garage

I took Chief home and can you believe it, Briggie had fallen asleep, and didn’t even know the Chief and I were gone? Chief was joking with Mr. Miller that
“We should be hearing phone calls soon with Briggie trying to find us.” Not this time. That’s enough for this week. You take good care of Danja and EJ.

Sincerely
Charlie

Search and Rescue Monitoring

Search and Rescue Monitoring

Once again, the western states search and rescue organizations were having their annual bash, munching granola and drinking a potent mix of gator-ade and Starbucks French Roast.

The national director and master of ceremonies banged his gavel to signify the start of the formal evening: “Well folks, glad you could make it, and get away from your normal humdrums of seeking lost souls some of them deserving and needing to be found.”

“We have come up with entertainment which is above and beyond the ordinary cutie popping out of a cake, etc. What we have is a letter purportedly written by a dog, to another dog. I think you will all get a great laugh from this one!”.

We will just post it up above on our Power Point screen and you can finish eating, drinking, dancing and joking.

The overhead screen lights up and the following letter appears:

“Dearest Liebe”: the director starts reading for the audience:

“I had an amazing trip the other evening. Chief Reuel and Uncle David went up to the gun range for shooting. A little later Mom Briggie and Aunt Susie decided to head on up and surprise them. They took me along. I thought, somewhat in error it turns out, “life is good”.

“We stopped in Amboy and bought pretzels (dogs like pretzels) and looked at yet another stove. We only have 3 charcoal grills now, plus the trailer, plus the Coleman stove, plus the little camping stove, so we need one more.”

We made it to the range gate, which naturally was locked. They would not let me out to go find the Chief. They walked in, saw no one, and then Briggie got excited…“what if they drove off the road over a bank?” she said.

So we drove back to Fargher Lake 3 times by all possible ways. No cars over the bank. No ambulances, no fires, no sign of Chief and the David.

(by now the audience is silent, the Washington and Oregon rescue directors are mumbling…”Where have we heard this before?”.

Then Briggie started calling every one, she called the neighbor lady, she called Reuel’s car phone 5 times, she called the grocery store, it was crazy. Then we drove back and drove up Canyon Creek, and somewhere in there …Briggie said, “What if they both had a heart attack?”
Even Aunt Susie began to get excited. Somehow in trying to find the fire station at Amboy, they got lost again, even…. It was amazing.

(the Wyoming director in his pretty red shirt stands up and announces to the world, “That’s Mrs. Emery, got to be. No one else on the whole damn planet could have an imagination like that”)

The director continues reading, “We drove back to the range again, I think it was the third time. The gate still locked; and then.
We heard shooting. Chief and Uncle David had the van out on the rifle range where the dingbat duet couldn’t see em. All is well, and we got lots mileage, I think 180 miles for what is only 24 miles from home, and 17 long distance calls.

Respectfully,
Uncle Charlie.


The master of ceremonies announces, “Isn’t that absolutely just precious, what a wonderful story”. He dodges adroitly as the North County EMS director throws a tomato at him.

“You wouldn’t think it was funny if you ever dealt with those people. That’s a normal day, that’s what my out fit has been stuck with for 15 years. How could you do this to us? Hell, the only relief we get is when the guys go to Wyoming!”

The Wyoming director chimes in…”Sir, there are two appropriate fates for showing this sordid tale.

“The first one would be to curse you to rot in hell, but that’s too good.”

“The second one, which I will take great pleasure in doing, is to give your home number to Mrs. Emery”.

The whole audience starts whooping and cheering, as the Wyoming director leave the fateful message on Mrs. Emery’s answering machine.

A Man's Thermos

A man’s thermos is a tremendously personal item. It carries the coffee, day in, day out, for many years. Alladin thermoses are famous for longevity.
The thermos bounces around in boats,and pick up trucks,and beemers and rolls around amidst dogs and guns and fish, and occasionally bounces out of the truck or boat. rolling and floating. A good thermos develops an outside veneer of scars and scrapes and dings, each a “badge of courage” of sorts.

Inside the thermos, each successive pot of coffee leaves an indelible residue stain sometimes several millimeters thick. After some years, this stain can get thick enough to offend members of the opposite sex.

Sometimes we must accede to their wishes and clean the thermos, somewhat grudgingly and perhaps giving only a token cleaning.

Ways to clean one’s thermos:

1. Do it yourself. Most of us men accomplish this satisfactorily by rinsing the thing out with cold water….once a month or so. Still, the veneer of stain builds up, but doesn’t affect the coffee taste too much. If the thermos NEVER sees soap, the coffee will not taste like soap. Life is good.

2. Contract with a woman willing to clean the thermos for a period of time. This usually entails other contracts, such as the “m” (marriage) word. I did this, but after 15 years, she decided that my thermos could revert to the #1 method, “or else she walks”. I didn’t pursue that subject. My coffee tastes like soap oftener than not.

3. Leave your thermos (or favorite coffee pot) where it falls into the clutches of a woman who carries anti-bacterial soap and vinegar and uses it for all tasks. Commonly these ladies have professional titles such as “head nurse” or “medical instructor”.

They will subject your poor innocent thermos to several hours of boiling with hot vinegar and other chemicals. You won’t even recognize the poor creature anymore. It will be clean, and perhaps pounds lighter than when you last used it. When you arrive home, the odor of hot vinegar permeates the neighborhood.

All your neighbors will know,”The thermos from hell is now clean”.

Such is fate.

Long Hidden Secret

EJ returns home from his week with GPa and Gma. He is now 7 years old and has been on his first plane trip to Battle Ground Regional Airport and back, all by himself. He is older and wiser than when he left.

BBdad and Danidoodle mom greet him at the airport. “We are so happy you are back. How was it? Did you have fun? What did you do?” On and on the happy couple bubbled, so pleased to have their little one return from his long week in the rainy Northwest.

As they drive home, father BB alertly discerns that something is different. There is a quiet, more mature, even perhaps somewhat sad little tyke here now.

So when they arrive home, the mom runs in the house to tend to the other siblings and the Liebe dog, and BB takes the moment to ask his little dude, “What’s up with you? Why are you so quiet?”

EJ says, “Nothing”, and then, “You never told me I was a twin and that I had a brother. Where is he now? What have you done with him?”

BB realizes he has a major problem here, starting with he has no clue what little dude is talking about. So after some deep introspection, he subtly asks, “What are you talking about?”

EJ sobs and then responds, “I went to work with Gpa, and there was this old picture on the wall of Gma and Gpa and me and BP! What did you do with my brother? Why did he look so strange?”

BB runs into house seeking help from the Danmother…”Help, what is he talking about? Twins, why don’t I know about this?”

“Oh, Silly, don’t you remember? That’s the picture of Gma holding him and Gpa holding the bowling pin dressed up like a baby. Here’s an old copy. Look here EJ, it was all a joke, your GMa Briggie cooked it up”….

And finally little EJ laughed and said…”Sure had me worried. I didn’t really want to go the gun club with Gpa. They treat them bowling pins kind of poorly.”