Here’s a thing we made during the snow a couple weeks ago starring Lacy, Guido, Ace, Laura, Callia and myself.. and introducing “Bertha The Snow Girl.”

I should have typed this up two weeks ago.. then again, I should have renewed my driver’s license in April. It’s all about priorities, people. I’m trying to get mine in order.

Yesterday, I mentioned that Callia and I walk Guido every morning. A couple weeks ago, Callia was rushing to get her socks and shoes on in time to go race me to the park bench. Guido and I went on out to put some letters in the mailbox. Once Callia was ready, the door burst open and out she ran, yelling at us to wait for her. Behind her, she was dragging her little electronic puppy on a leash – one of those things with two buttons: bark and walk. It doesn’t walk very well and it sure doesn’t race at all. We walked up the street together, me holding Guido’s leash, Callia dragging her toy puppy behind her. She wasn’t holding the ‘walk’ button, but it didn’t matter cause he was on his side and spinning around.

It was really cute, and I wish I had a picture of us walking our dogs together.. but my camera’s broken and I think we’re years away from cyborg technology being affordable to the common man.. so that’s not an option yet.

Almost every morning, Callia and I walk Guido down the block to the park bench and back. Well, I walk. Guido lunges forward as if he’s on some weird game show on Japanese Nickelodian where his life depends upon peeing on as many objects as possible. Callia “races” us to the bench.. and she does run fast. Half the time, I’ve got Guido’s leash in one hand and my first coffee of the day in the other, so I kind of meander along, hoping not to trip and start my day off face down on the concrete and/or in dog poo.

This morning, Callia was talking about how pretty the leaves were and said, “the leaves keep falling out of the trees.” All-Knowing-Daddy offered his deep insight, “Maybe that’s why they call it Fall.” Callia looked concerned, and said, “we need to put the leaves back up in the trees!”

We went camping over the weekend of Callia’s birthday and it was so much fun. She and I got down there about 5pm on a Friday, staked out a campsite and started setting up. She ate some snacks and made multiple trips over to the nearby playground, but really got into it once the tent was up. She ordered me to take off my shoes and come play inside with her. We had a blast.

When it got dark she said, “ok, let’s go inside” and I told her we were sleeping under the stars in the tent. She said, “I can’t sleep HERE!” as if it was a ridiculous notion. There was a group of old people square-dancing under this covered area we could see from our tent window.. Callia watched them for a while. She loves to dance, so “we” decided we’d go over there and join in. As soon as we got our shoes on, we heard them say, “all right! That’s it for the night. Thanks everybody, we’ll see you tomorrow for breakfast.” So, once again my timing was perfect.

About 40 minutes after we laid down and she went to sleep, Laura arrived with my brother Kirk and his wife. They’d driven from Knoxville after getting off work, so Laura met up with them at the house and led them in since it was going to be dark. By then, most of the campers in our area were sleeping so we all just crashed out.

The next day we had a little party for Callia and a bunch of relatives came out and grilled burgers with us. Grandma Sara and Laura’s Paw, Laura’s sister Jessica and her husband Duncan and there were a few more from her side of the family. Kirk and Erin were already there and Grandma Perry and “Crazy Old Man Riden” (or “Papaw” as Callia calls him) drove from Johnson City where they’d attended Ashley Edmonds’ high school graduation. Laura had gotten Callia a Dora the Explorer cake & the fam pulled thru with tons of presents. I got Callia the same thing I get her every year: a bottle of Jack Daniels and a lottery ticket.

That night, my parents had rented one of the nearby cabins, but hung out in our campsite with us and Laura’s sister and her husband after everybody else left. There’s something about sneaking around with booze in a state park that makes me feel like a kid again. I dunno.. It’s just naughty. (owww! Wild man.. I’m outta control!)

Sunday morning we ate breakfast and broke camp. All in all, we only had three or four ticks.. Guido didn’t bite anybody.. Laura didn’t kill me in my sleep.. And Callia seemed to have a pretty good time, so I count it as a win.

Summer is in full swing, and that means people are wearing less clothing than they really should be. If you’re like most people, you’re out at the pool scopin’ out some flesh. If you’re like me, you’re sitting in front of your computer recalling a humiliating incident when you found yourself standing in your boxers covered in mud, blood, and dog crap. Go gather the kids around the monitor and let’s all relive the moment as if it had just happened…

In the early summer of 2000, I was living in a ground-level apartment in west Knoxville. The living room had a sliding glass door that opened up to a lovely wooded buffer between my crappy apartment and a deadly road. Attached to a post on my porch was a 20 foot dog leash. Whenever my best friend, Guido, wanted to go outside I would put him on the leash and return to my studies. By studies, of course, I mean watching comedy and screwing around on the computer while drinking myself into oblivion.

I was working second shift at the time, so I didn’t have to wake up until mid-afternoon.. this lent itself to many nights of drunken debauchery. I woke one morning after such a bout with fate to find Guido on my chest, licking my face. This is Dog Talk for “let me outside.” Come to think of it, it’s also Dog Talk for “I’m hungry,” “let’s play,” and “Ahh, yes. I just wanted to drag my nuts across your body.” Once again, I’ve digressed.

Stumbling out of bed, I put Guido out on his special “neglect your dog” leash, and then went right back to bed. Within a few seconds I was fast asleep and worry free. I slept about 10 minutes before being woken up by the unmistakable sounds of a vicious dog fight.

Leaping to my feet and running into the living room, I had no time to put on clothes or my glasses. I got around the corner just in time to see a giant bulldog chomp down his jaws around Guido’s neck. I ran right outside and started punching the dog in the ribs. He wouldn’t let go. I lost my mind and did the dumbest thing possible: I grabbed his jaws with my hands and pulled his mouth open. Now, kids.. don’t ever do that. Guido dropped from his grip and was free.. and then the giant, mean dog clamped his jaws down on my hands. It was a bad idea from the very beginning, and now I knew why. Ouch.

I got my hands free and screamed like a drunk Mexican hooker. The big dog got a hold of Guido again. I kicked the dog a few times, but that didn’t help. I grabbed its neck and began strangling it. This did the trick. Guido got free from the dog’s grip, dropped to the ground, and attacked the dog’s rear legs.

A guy walking his dog had ran up to us and asked me if I needed help. I stepped out of myself for a moment and looked around. The hot chick upstairs was on her balcony, her jaw dropped to the ground. The couple next door were looking out their window and on the phone, probably calling the police. Both the guy walking his dog and his dog were staring at me like I was insane. I was wearing only my boxers.. covered in mud, blood, and dog crap.. holding a large dog off the ground strangling him to death.. while my dog bites his ass.

We ended up calling the dog catcher and had the dog hauled off. Unfortunately, I didn’t get to kill it, but I’m sure somebody else has since then.

I’ve tried to come up with a moral to this story, but I’m not sure there is one. I’m just glad I wasn’t sleeping in the nude.