My Golden boy Earnie [the airhead] has been something of a problem to find

unbreakable toys for, as some of you are surely aware. He's systematically

slaughtered every Woobie in the house, some the girls had for years. Then

began the elimination of rubber toys, one by one. Holds 'em down with one

foot and rips 'em to shreds. Then he eats the shreds. So far we've found

two things he cannot immediately destroy: hard rubber "Kongs" and baseball

bat sized cotton rope pulls. He does manage to ingest the cotton ropes over

a period of time, but the biggest ones available last about 6 months before

going the way of all that enters the pooper-scooper. Interesting, he poops

string-wrapped parcels. All we'd need to do to ship them would be to

address 'em. Wonder how the U.P.S. guy would like that? Anybody out there

want an Earniegram? I'll do the postage--?

Earnies method of "play" with these heavy rope pulls is interesting. If you

haven't seen one of these, the rope is about 3 inches in diameter, about 3

feet long, and has a **big** knot on each end, the size of a large mans

fist. These things are heavy! Earnie grabs the rope near the center, and

shakes his head violently from side to side, beating himself about the head

and shoulders until he gets dizzy and falls to his knees. As soon as he

comes around enough to regain what little coordination he generally

possesses [he's about as agile as a cow on stilts]--he does it some more!

Big horrid thuds and thumps as the knots bounce from his anatomy pain me to

listen to. Sounds like a vicious heavyweight fight. Sure a good thing his

head is empty, no chance of brain damage, I guess. This Rope-A-Dope game

gets even nastier if he's played with the rope for a while, because he

drools all over it so when he shakes it, snot & spittle fly all over the

room. Even Becky & The Pigger just get up & leave when that starts. Must be

another "guy" thing, eh? Ah, ya gotta love 'em---!

Becky [If he'd had any sense he's beating it out of himself, the idjut.

Typical dumb blonde.]

Peggy Sue [Hey, this isn't a blonde thing! It's an airhead thing, and

airheads come in all colors!]

Earnie [Thump! Thud! Oof! Geez, that hurts! Duhhhhh let's do that some

more! Thudthumpclobberoof!]

Michael & Scotty

The Golden Gang

Becky; The Red Scourge of Squirrels, Feline Track Coach

Peggy Sue; Pixie, Lover of Every Creature; Fecal Gourmet

Earnie; Marriage Test, Former Great White Humper

Thought I'd pass this on to see if there are others out there suffering

from this malady. It was suggested I give Earnie street hockey balls to

play with, as he wouldn't be able to destroy them. This is probably true.

One small problem with this---if Earnie has a ball, any kind of a ball, HE

WILL DRIVE ME NUTS WITH IT!!!!!! He shoves it in my face, in my crotch, my

lap, my armpit, etc. until I'm ready to explode! Naturally, the ball is

thoroughly **slimed** before he presents it to me. This causes the crotch

area of my Levis to have shiny, slick, lugubrious patches of dog snot

[pupkus?] on them. I don't know why, but this makes strangers nervous. They

place a protective arm about their children in the supermarket and sidle

away from me, keeping a careful watch. Even grandmothers tend to move away

from the freezer cases until I'm clear of it. People lose eye contact when

they talk to me, they keep looking down suspiciously. I notice police cars

in the parking lot with officers sorting through photographs and staring at

me. I mean I like attention as well as the next person, but hey, what's

going on here?

Becky [There used to be balls in the house to play with, and now you hide

them from us!]

Peggy Sue [Balls, schmalz, who cares. Buffalo nose can slime you without

the benefit of a ball!]

Earnie [Hey, anybody wanna play ball with me? Huh? Do ya? Why are you

running away?]

Michael & Scotty

The Golden Gang

Becky; The Red Scourge of Squirrels, Feline Track Coach

Peggy Sue; Pixie, Lover of Every Creature; Fecal Gourmet

Earnie; Marriage Test, Former Great White Humper

Living in SW Washington State; USA

A thought occurred to me today [at my age, that in itself was a revelation]

as I watched my three Furbuggers retrieving tennis balls. They are all

Goldens. In my eyes, of course, they're all **perfect and beautiful**.

But--they are each *very* different. I decided to critique their running

styles, blinders removed. Pure, unadulterated criticism. I figure, hey, I

can shake off the stardust long enough to be critical of my wife, so why

not the dogs? As I watched each dog run, I made mental notes. See below for

the results.

Dog #1. Becky. Fluid, graceful, powerful, energetic, nimble, a pure delight

to observe! Picture a Gazelle, an Antelope, a Cheetah. This dog has

suffered nearly all of the paw/pad injuries we've had in this family

because she also tends to be reckless, fearless, willing to sacrifice her

body in order to **get that tennis ball**!

Dog #2. Peggy Sue. Conservative, barrel-chested, choppy runner. Capable of

quick bursts of speed, unable to maintain them. Picture a White Rhino sans

horn, a sprinters heavy build. Prefers rolling on tennis balls to

retrieving them. Unwilling to make physical sacrifices to the tennis-ball

gods. Hell with it. Let Becky get the stoopid ball. Would rather root

around for disgusting stuff to eat or roll in than retrieve.

Dog #3. Earnie. Difficult to describe. Loose jointed runner. Flaps around

all over the place. Picture goosing a bag lady. Picture a cow on stilts.

Capable of great speed, endurance unknown. Never been able to wear him out.

Tends to lead with his head. Dives at tennis balls at top speed, generally

misses them. Can pack 4 tennis balls at a time. Loves to do double

retrieves, usually at Beckys expense. Really knows how to slime a tennis

ball, too.

Becky [Did you tell them how I can catch tennis balls that you hit way up

in the air? Makes a sound like a catchers mitt!]

Peggy Sue [What's the big deal about retrieving, anyway? Any idiot can do

that. Just watch Becky. Eating *just the right poop*, now THERE'S an art!]

Earnie [Whaddayamean, flap around? Hey, I'm just sauntering when I do that!

I think I can outrun Becky, now!]

Michael & Scotty

The Golden Gang

Becky; The Red Scourge of Squirrels, Feline Track Coach

Peggy Sue; Pixie, Lover of Every Creature; Fecal Gourmet

Earnie; Marriage Test, Woobie Shredder, Former Great White Humper

Living in SW Washington State; USA

Nope, this isn't about Earnies recent loss of his manhood. I spelled it

right. Jowls. As those of you who have met Earnie know, he has a

magnificent head. Mostly empty, admittedly. But large. His headgear

includes a really phenomenal set of jowls. I'm not sure in liquid measure

of their capacity, but judging from the vicinity of the water dish after he

drinks, it looks like several gallons.

Yesterday after a rousing hour or two of fetching tennis balls on the

meadow, I was returning up the trail with my furkids when a group of

teen-aged students on a walk-a-thon suffered the misfortune of learning

about Earnies jowls. Ok--normally, when your dog isn't running or breathing

hard, the saliva in the jowls resembles clear liquid. Sure, when they shake

their heads in the hall it leaves little shiny snot-stringers all over the

walls. We're all used to that. But--take one dog, exercise the dog hard,

and that liquid saliva turns to--foam! It also increases in bulk measure

depending on how long and how hard you ran the dog. So, up the trail

towards my three foamed-up dogs comes about a dozen teen-aged girls

squealing things like "oh, aren't they precious?" As they bent to pet the

dogs, I tried to warn them about the slime---they didn't seem concerned.

And then----! Earnie leaned his head slightly to the left, as if there was

something in his ear. Me, the savvy owner, immediately moved to the far end

of the 6-ft. leash. He leaned his head to the right. To the left again,

gaining velocity. Then he shook his head, with a loud

"FLAPPA-WHAPPA-FLAPPA" sound, similar to sheets blowing in the wind on a

breezy day. Like playing cards in the spokes of a bicycle. Like a loose

mainsail on a sailboat. Pandemonium. Chaos! Long, slimy stringers of snot

flying in all directions, little round blobs of ectoplastic material flying

about. Sort of like standing in a blizzard of wet slimy snow. Teen-agers

scattering every which way. One young woman cleaning goobers from her

glasses, glaring myopically at me. Another with a truly impressive slime

trail all the way down her leg. Hey, I tried to warn them. So much for

popularity.

Becky [You DOLT!!!! We were getting petted by a whole bunch of folks! You

slimy knothead!]

Peggy Sue [Geez, Earnie, couldn't ya have done that somewhere else? Why

couldn't you just fart, or something? Sheesh!]

Earnie [Whaddid I do? Why is everybody leaving? Hey, c'mon back--I

Looooovvvveeee you!]

Michael & Scotty

The Golden Gang

Becky; The Red Scourge of Squirrels, Feline Track Coach

Peggy Sue; Pixie, Lover of Every Creature; Fecal Gourmet

Earnie; Marriage Test, Former Great White Humper

Living in SW Washington State; USA

I think we found a way to get some peace in the evenings! Earnie is 14

months old now and a real dynamo. If you have followed any of my prior

postings, you know how *nuts* he can make us when we try to watch a movie,

or do anything where he's not a required part of the action! Usually,

writing on this computer is a contact sport. Large slobber-covered chin

whumping the keyboard from time to time. Makes proper spelling difficult.

But----tonight, he is sleeping, as are the other two! Peace & quiet! Ahhhh!

All it took was taking the three of them along on a Mushroom Field Trip we

led today. The area we hunted is incredible--*real* old growth fir trees,

some probably 30' in diameter. A marvelously clear stream runs along the

bottom of the canyon. The weather was *perfect* Golden weather--40 degrees

and raining hard! I pulled the truck off the road and kicked the dogs out.

Off they went! They ran, they swam, they stomped on mushrooms we were

trying to harvest. The stream is running very swift right now with all the

rain. They fetched sticks swimming against the current, that really works

them! Earnie wouldn't go into the creek last year -- this year you couldn't

keep him out of it! He's becoming a strong swimmer. He has also learned one

of my least favorite dog tricks. He grabs a big limb and tries to run past

you on the trail with it. I am not thrilled about that. The bruises on the

back of my legs are why. Anyhow, the furkids were off lead & really rockin'

and rollin' **all** day. Then, home, three dog baths, dinner--and sleep!

Gotta love 'em, eh? BTW I see hunting mentioned in another post. The deer

hunters are out in the area we were in today. I have bells on each dog, and

use florescent surveyors ribbon tied liberally all about their collars to

alert hunters that they're *not* game. So far, it's worked. The danger of a

dog being shot is always there this time of the year. Unfortunately,

mushrooms fruit during deer and elk seasons out here in Washington. I

figure it's a calculated risk allowing my dogs to run free where there are

hunters. I constantly cross my fingers, so far, after 8 years, nobodies

taken a shot at us or the dogs---yet! Knock on wood----!

Becky [Whew! I'm tired! That blonde brat is getting tougher to keep up

with!]

Peggy Sue [I just bop along with the old folks. I don't even try to keep up

with those two idjuts!]

Earnie [Hey, wow! The woods are my favorite place! Watch me dive into the

creek, guys! Wheeeeee! Boy, am I ever tired--!]

Becky [

Michael & Scotty

The Golden Gang

Becky; The Red Scourge of Squirrels, Feline Track Coach

Peggy Sue; Pixie, Lover of Every Creature; Fecal Gourmet

Earnie; Marriage Test, Woobie Shredder, Former Great White Humper

Living in SW Washington State; USA

A fine day here in the n w. Today we took the *furkids* up the Washougal

River, into the headwater area for a mushroom hunt. What a day! Picture

perfect weather, 65 degrees, sunny, beautiful fall colors, pristine;

perfectly clear water in the river. Salmon spawning in some of the gravel

beds. We started our mushroom hunt in the lower elevations, around 2000'

looking primarily for Chanterelles. Great fun! Remember as a child how you

loved Easter egg hunts? Picture an Easter egg hunt for adults & you'll have

an idea of the fun we have! Today, we had luck! Incredible luck! In 45

minutes we had over 30 lbs. of beautiful specimens! Enough to use all

winter. The dogs were having a total hoot running amok in the woods, doing

inscrutable dog things, like eating deer poop. Peggy Sue and Becky usually

eat Chanterelles as we pick them, sometimes we have to fight the dogs for

the 'shrooms! Today, as the 'shrooms were plentiful, we let them eat all

they wanted. Earnie has decided he doesn't like Chanterelles. He leaves 'em

to the girls. After hauling the mushrooms back to the truck we decided to

go higher and search for Boletus Edulis, one of my favorite edibles and

usually a difficult mushroom to find. After 12 miles of bad roads, some of

which required low range in my 4X4, we found ourselves at about 4000 ft. Lo

and behold, after a short hike of perhaps a mile, we encountered dozens of

huge Boletes! I was happily kneeling and picking when I heard a huge, wet

**belch** right behind me. Earnie was eating all the trimmings I was

leaving from the Boletes! Interesting, as the girls won't eat Boletes.

Must be another "guy" thing? Earnie is turning into quite the little

woodsman, he isn't into chasing deer like Becky. He's always within 100' or

so of us as we crash through the brush. It's really a great pleasure to see

the fun the dogs have out in the woods! It's also a great pleasure having

an evening of peace & quiet while they sleep off their trip! <VBG>

Becky [ I didn't chase a single deer today! Good thing, too. Hunting season

is open! Could get shot!]

Peggy Sue [I ate sooooo many Chanterelles! Yummy!]

Earnie [Boletes are my favorites! They taste a little like roasted

hazelnuts! Mmmmm good! ***BELCH***!]

Michael & Scotty

The Golden Gang

Becky; The Red Scourge of Squirrels, Feline Track Coach

Peggy Sue; Pixie, Lover of Every Creature; Fecal Gourmet

Earnie; Marriage Test, Woobie Shredder, Former Great White Humper

Living in SW Washington State; USA

Earnie, A.K.A. PITA [pronounced "pete-ah", as in **Pain In The Ass**] Has

found a new way to annoy me. Amazing! I thought he'd found all possible

means of irritating us. Eating the Futon and other selected furniture

items. Getting the evening F.R.A.P.s, causing much damage to the carpets.

Digging up, and eating my wifes flowers. Farting while laying in the

recliner with me. Loudly, I might add. All the normal stuff. Add one to the

list! The other day my friend arrived at our house looking stressed, so I

suggested a nice soak in the Hot Tub. My offer was accepted, so in the tub

we went. Normally, Becky; our #1 dog lays at the top of the steps to the

Hot Tub if we're in it, waiting patiently for us to get out, happy if she

gets an occasional head-pat. Peggy Sue firmly believes the Hot Tub is

terribly evil and that it's out to get her, hence she avoids it. Earnie,

until last weekend has also ignored the Hot Tub if we're soaking, and gone

about his merry way causing major lawn damage while we aren't watching his

every move. After we'd been in the tub for a few minutes, Earnie decided to

climb the steps to say "howdy". Unfortunately, he had a very slimy, large

dirty ball he'd scrounged from somewhere in his mouth. He gave a big

Earnie-smile with his tail wagging madly, and dropped said filthy ball in

the Hot Tub. Probably because he's not coordinated enough to wag and smile

at the same time. This is where my friend made **the fatal error** of

automatically throwing the ball out into the yard for Earnie. Arrggghhh!

Understand, my friend is used to Becky & Peggy Sue who will **go away** if

you suggest it to them. They know when you aren't interested in play. They

have brains! Earnie's brain, if it exists, [questionable] must be about the

size of a pea. Picture a marble in a fish bowl. Telling Earnie to *go away*

or *knock it off* has exactly the same effect it would if used on a swarm

of Black flies. Like yelling at a Yellow jacket, mosquitos, or horseflies.

It just turns him on. So, back he comes, again and again and again and

again with the ball, each time obviously going to some effort to roll it in

something really disgusting before delivering it to us. The usual reason

one soaks in a Hot Tub is to relax. Relaxing is difficult with a 70 lb.

hound dribbling a dirty ball down your neck every 30 seconds or so. The Hot

Tub by now was full of unidentifiable, disgusting detritus. My friend

decided to **hide** the ball. Ha! Earnie figured that out in about a

heartbeat. Earnie bunched his muscles and prepared to launch himself into

the Hot Tub to get *the ball*; so we opted to just throw the damned thing.

A dirty ball in the tub is one thing, Earnie is another. Ah, you gotta love

'em!

Becky [Not only was he dropping that ball in the Hot Tub, he was climbing

over me to do it! Grrrrrr.]

Peggy Sue [I dunno why anyone would get near that thing! It makes funny

sucking noises! One day, it's coming, I just know it is---!]

Earnie [Oboy! A new game! Dontcha just LOVE to play ball with me, hey dad,

huh dad, hey, hey, hey, isn't this just great fun?!?! Why are you getting

out already? Huh? Doesn't it feel good? Here, here's the ball!]

Michael & Scotty

The Golden Gang

Becky; The Red Scourge of Squirrels, Feline Track Coach

Peggy Sue; Pixie, Lover of Every Creature; Fecal Gourmet

Earnie; Marriage Test, Woobie Shredder, General PITA

Living in SW Washington State; USA

It is with heavy heart I report this to the list. Many of our beloved

Goldens are suffering from a very serious malady. Although this may be the

first known report of this problem in dogs, it's been common in reptiles

for many years. The scientific name of this problem is: "Alligator Mouth;

Canary er, Anus". I don't know why this hasn't shown up on the list before,

it's really obvious once you notice it. There's a good possibility this is

gender-specific. Neither of my girls, Becky or Peggy Sue have had much

difficulty with it. Peggy Sues dietary preferences are unique and somewhat

disgusting, but they don't cause A.M.C.A. syndrome. Earnie, always the

over achiever has set new standards for this disease. His appetite for

large, inedible items is the stuff legends are made of. Just awesome.

Couches. Antique Chairs. Futons. Becky & Peggy Sue's [never his own!] beds.

Limbs. Flowers, flowerpot dirt, woobies of all varieties, rubber toys,

pigskin footballs, and on & on. I believe neutering increases the

seriousness of the problem. Before neutering Earnie would *hump* the fore

mentioned items and *then* eat them, now he just gets right down to the

eating part. Eating more, enjoying it less. Listen up; I'm going to tell

you how to test to see if your dog suffers from this syndrome. First, find

six [6] tennis balls. Next, find your dog. Go to the front of the dog. This

is the end with *two* eyes, wet slimy nose, and drooling mouth. For the

purpose of this test, we are going to refer to this end as the "intake".

Start placing tennis balls in the "intake". In Earnies case--one potato,

two potato, three potato, four---four! Four tennis balls will fit nicely in

his mouth. Remove tennis balls from the "intake". Go to the rear of the

dog. This is the end with a tail, poopy feathers, etc. Carefully lift the

tail. Check the size of the "exhaust" vent. The "exhaust" vent should

appear just beneath the tail. This vent is sometimes referred to as a

"pigeye" by lay persons. If you want, you can check to see how many tennis

balls you can put in the "exhaust" end, although I don't recommend this

practice, as the "intake" end may whirl about and cause you, the

pseudo-scientist; grievous injury which will be extremely difficult to

explain at the Emergency Clinic. Just take the word of *one who knows*, you

cannot easily stuff even **one** tennis ball in there, let alone four. Does

your dog have a problem? If so; what are the symptoms of this malady? In

Earnies case, all the above mentioned items, along with numerous

unmentionable items, have been ingested and were too large to pass through

the "exhaust" system. Therefore, they had one escape route, which is back

out the "intake". This process of regurgitation generally occurs somewhere

in the vicinity of three [3] AM along with a regular symphony of guttural

urp-urp-urp sounds. It will always happen on or near your bed, or on the

carpet. If your dog is badly afflicted, he may perform this wondrous act in

front of all your friends who stayed for dinner. Earnie has managed that on

one occasion. Nobody stayed for dessert. I must admit I have had prior

experience with this A.M.C.A. Syndrome. In my younger days. In Grade School

I had a pet Snake, a rather large water snake I named "Mr. Hisser". I kept

"Mr. Hisser" in a large terrarium. I regularly fed him a diet of live

frogs, mice, etc. Early on I found "Mr. Hisser" to be intelligent enough

not to try and swallow anything too large for him, except on one occasion

when I lifted the lid of the terrarium and startled him. "Mr. Hisser"

grabbed me by the back of the hand, where I am sure he might have remained

for a while if not for the jig I performed and the bad smell emanating from

the area of the seat of my trousers. I'm still doubtful he meant to eat me.

I did get more careful about startling a snake after that. My point here

is: "Mr. Hisser"; God rest his sinuous snake-soul, **knew** when things

were too large to fit the exhaust vent. Earnie doesn't. Therefore, Earnie

must be dumber than the snake? I bet there's Government Grant Money

somewhere in this, I can just feel it----! IMHO this malady is serious

enough to cause a manufacturing recall. I have tried reaching someone at

1-800-OGOD but alas, the line is always busy. I plan to keep trying.

Becky [Yeah, what was that blonde turd thinking when he ate my bed, anyhow?

Kapok never tasted all that great to me, y'know.]

Peggy Sue [Keep on giving him those chew-bones, I don't like the way he's

looking at me. I thought my problems with him were over when you nutted

him. Arrrggghhh!]

Earnie [MMMMMMmmmmm! Geez, dad, you have good taste in furniture! But, I

gotta tell ya, that football was really scrumptious! How 'bout that red

stain on the carpet when I barfed it? Hey? How 'bout that? You can still

see that stain, didja know that, dad?]

Michael & Scotty

The Golden Gang

Becky; The Red Scourge of Squirrels, Feline Track Coach

Peggy Sue; Pixie, Lover of Every Creature; Fecal Gourmet

Earnie; Marriage Test, Woobie Shredder, General PITA

Living in SW Washington State; USA

Those of you who read my last post concerning the A.M.C.A. syndrome are

aware of my research concerning what dogs eat, and why. I am still

searching for Government Grant money. I'm close, I just know it--! While

furthering my research I discovered a little known fact concerning the

invention of modern-day dog food, commonly known as "kibble". Here are the

facts. About 30 years ago a farmer was feeding his Goldens horse meat, or

beef, left over from carcasses rendered for human consumption. This worked

relatively well, as long as the meat was served up in small enough pieces.

The farmer noticed that if the pieces were too large, his male Goldens

would just try to swallow them whole [the A.M.C.A. syndrome!] and usually

ended up gagging on the meat or regurgitating it. On one occasion, he

forgot to feed his dogs, which normally should not have posed a problem.

However, there was a deceased horse in the pasture. You guessed it! His

Goldens tried to eat the horse without chewing. Bad scene. Too gruesome to

describe here in detail. Suffice it to say there were some pretty sick

dogs. Fortunately the farmer came upon the scene in time to pull the horses

head out of the mouth of his Golden Retriever; Earnie. The dog had managed

to get up to about the horses ears in his mouth when discovered. Not a

pretty sight. So, the farmer decided something had to be done. He decided

to run the carcass through a shredder! [Anybody seen the movie Fargo?]

Viola!! This rendered the meat into small pieces he dubbed "Kibble" which

the dogs could easily swallow and process. An unfortunate accident occurred

during the shredding process. The farmers wife fell into the shredder. He

decided to market the resulting product as "Kibbles and Bitch" but was

forced to change the name to "Kibbles and Bits" by the marketing company.

Just thought you needed to know.

Becky [Kibbles & Bitch???? Awwwww c'mon dad! You've been watching too many

"Cohn Brothers" movies again--!]

Peggy Sue [Well, I believe it. I watched Fargo. Looked pretty good to me.]

Earnie [If you hold the horse down, I bet I can swallow it---!]

Michael & Scotty

The Golden Gang

Becky; The Red Scourge of Squirrels, Feline Track Coach

Peggy Sue; Pixie, Lover of Every Creature; Fecal Gourmet

Earnie; Marriage Test, Woobie Shredder, General PITA

Living in SW Washington State; USA