Yesterday was a memorable day for me. It'll be two years in December since the

Surgeons had their way with me. I remember many of the things they told me.

#1 You'll be as good as new in no time!

Translation: We have no idea if we can save you. Crap shoot.

#2 This may be a little uncomfortable.

Translation: Be prepared for the possibility you may pass out from the pain.

#3 This may hurt a bit.

Translation: You **will** pass out from the pain.

#4 There is a remote possibility you may experience some slight

complications from the surgery.

Translation: You'll never be the same. Learn to live with it.

#5 You may experience a short convalescence period.

Translation: You'll hurt for years. Your energy level may never be the same.

Don't complain. You're alive.

At any rate, yesterday I scheduled a hike with my best friend, with whom I ran for

years, cycled for years, and hiked for many years. Michael refers to Hank & my

hikes as "death marches". You'll have to ask her why. She doesn't like to go with

us very often. Maybe it has something to do with the fact we always try to out-do

each other. Mask the pain. Never throw up in front of your buddy. Ever try to

breath normally while carrying a 35 lb. pack up a steep mountainside, attempting

to out-macho your buddy? Speak in a normal voice while your body is screaming for

air? Takes practice, let me tell you. Now-- the dogs have always loved these long

hikes. Dogs are far superior to humans when it comes to covering long distances.

Plus, they have *me* to carry their water. As well as mine. Private pack mule. Or

Jackass, if you prefer.

We headed into a rough area of the Columbia Gorge, seeking out a trail we hadn't

been on for 6 years. A good test to see how much of my former energy I had left.

Barb Payne saw some of this magnificent area while visiting a few weeks ago. We

started our hike a mile or so from where we took Barb. Weather was good--it had

rained, the brush was wet. Maybe 60 F temperature. Trail overgrown. Rough, rocky

area with much scree; old glacier beds to scramble over. Our destination was the

summit of a small mountain, about 4300 feet. Problem was, there is no trail the

last 1/2 mile to the summit of the mountain, other than the one made by Bears;

Deer, and Elk. We both tried convincing each other this was no problem, [typical

male macho BS] we had already hiked around 4 1/2 miles to this point and had to

return before dark. Hmm. Well, we made the summit! Sat there, able to see about 25

miles up the Columbia River, and enjoyed our lunches. The three dogs particularly

enjoyed the lunch part. Peggy Sue managed to cause me to suck in my breath so hard

my butt stuck to a rock I was sitting on. She kept marching up to the edge of this

400 foot drop, and peering over the edge. Arrggghh! Earnie & Becky were more

interested in my sandwich.

We got out before dark, seemingly all OK. I felt good. Probably had a couple of

miles left in me. Total distance, maybe 10 miles, 4000 ft. elevation gain. Not

bad! Tired dogs, as Becky & Earnie always run all over the place sniffing out the

Grouse and Deer. Peggy Sue tends to stay on the trail with us. Smart dog.

Well, turns out the hike took it's toll, after all. Peggy Sue was so stiff last

night I had to carry her down the stairs to go out for potty break. Earnie wore

several toenails into the quick; probably on the rockfalls. No, they weren't too

long to start with, either. Big boy, steep terrain. Becky appeared to be OK until

I looked at her eye this morning. Red, bloody looking. Picked two huge seeds out

of it and medicated it. Bummer. All I got was a blister. Becky & Earnie have

Agility tonight, I think he'll be OK on the soft surface. Life is good. Y'all come

on out to the NW--can show you some Great places to hike with your dogs. No

leashes. No hikers. No problems!

Earnie [Oh, that was too much fun! Can we go again today?]

Becky [I'm ready! Let's rock & roll! I can out walk you, you young

whipper-snapper!]

Peggy Sue [Uhhhh--maybe a day or two off? We can do our normal 5 miles, OK?]

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

We are so flattered! We've known for a long time Peggy Sue has some rather unique

talents. But--a fan club? Sure! Poop of the month club? Awright! Her head is

swelling! She also suggests sending money for a treasury. She plans to use this

money to travel to exotic lands; where she can sample the findings. Africa!

Elephant Crap! Wildebeest Yummies! Talk about Cat S**t! Do Lions and Tigers have

catboxes? The possibilities are mind-boggling! Camels in Egypt! Yaks inTibet!

In the heat of summer, up to the South Pole for frozen delights! Sea Lion S**t!

Walrus leavings! Penguin poop! If this flies, Peggy Sue promises to return from

each trip with an assortment of delicacies to share with this exclusivebunch.

Might even end Turf-Taco sampling. Each month we can raffle off a box ofassorted

delicacies for GRIC! Maybe we can finance Goldentown! Just think, an entire

village financed by fertilizers! Ah, yes!

Becky [I ain't joining. Unless, of course, some of that foreign stuff is better

than Deer poop delights.]

Peggy Sue [Oh, this sounds just--yummy! No more scavenging, just wait for that UPS

truck!]

Earnie [I might join. I discovered fresh horse s**t is better than doing weave

poles last night in class.]

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

Peggy Sue's feelings are hurt. Now I'm mad. Well, sorta mad. But hey! Mess with

me? OK.-- My wife? Daughter?---

Maybe. My dogs? **Never**!!!! The other *Richardson* on the list [I'm checking, we

may be related--if we're not, and he makes enough money, well, I'm easy. Are you

listening; Brother?? <VBG>] sent me a one-liner--"You are what you eat"! Is there a hidden

meaning here? Peggy Sue mumbled something about "if that's the case, I ain't gonna bite

**that** guy". She then rambled on about gastronomic tastes prevalent in other countries.

She's right. I'll raid the diaper pail myself long before I eat any gastropods. Hey,

list--I think "The other Richardson" has a pretty good sense of humor. Just a weak

tummy. If we get the "Peggy Sue Fecal Gourmet Fan Club" to fly, perhaps weshould

offer this gentleman an all-expense paid trip to Washington State for a week with

the Pigger? Eh? Kill 'em or cure 'em.

Peggy Sue [Some turds are better than others.]

Becky [I can pick on Peggy Sue. But *nobody* else better try it while the Red

Bitch is around!]

Earnie [I think I slept through some of this? Who do I have to whip? Is someone

dissin' the Pigger?]

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

----------

>To: Multiple recipients of list <golden@hobbes.ucsd.edu>

>Subject: [G@H] Re: Gross me out contest

>Date: Mon, Sep 21, 1998, 4:18 PM

>

>Nope. Don't see your point. Heck, we ain't even **started** with this thread yet.

>I'm working on an entry. Lead role: The one, the **only**--"Fecal Gourmet". My

>very own Peggy Sue! I agree with whoever told you to have a Tootsie Roll. Or, you

>could eat Mexican. Try a Burrito.

>Peggy Sue [Gee, dad--I'm gonna be famous again?]

>Becky [I only roll in it. Peggy Sue eats it.]

>Earnie [Must be a female thing. Yuck.]

>

>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

Came home to the sad news about the FFFF. I feel terrible. Just a few hours ago we

were laughing over the antics of my "Grand Dame"; Becky. Eight year old idiot dog.

Talk about your wild child. Maybe you can use a chortle on the tail of such bad

news. So, here goes. Scenario: Our first Chanterelle mushroom hunt this fall! Got out the Bear bells, my trusty .357 S&W and headed for the woods. Bad Bear year, here. Bears are

hungry. No berries. They have come ever closer into populated areas, feeding on

garbage, etc. We were heading into an area where we know they're around. Rarely do

we see one, due to the dogs and the Bear Bells. The .357 is more to make noise if

I have to than anything else. So far haven't had to use it. Hope I never do.

Usually need something more potent than an itty-bitty .357 to take on a bear,

anyhow. A .357 is enough to handle most Rednecks, though. I fear them far more

than the Bears.

Out of the truck, up the trail! All three dogs tinkling merrily along! Michael and

I carrying our baskets in anticipation of a nice Chanterelle Souffl=E9 when we got

home. Uh-oh. Where's Becky? Where is Earnie? I listen--down the canyon--CRASH!

GRRRRRRROOwwwwwwwllll. RRRRRrrrrrrr SNNNarrrrrlllll. Uh-Oh. Doesn't sound good.

Sounds big, too. I spot Earnie. He went about 100 yards and was looking over the

canyon edge with a "I ain't goin' there" look on his face. He started back toward

us. By now I can no longer hear Becky's bell. I always put a *big* bell on her,

too, because she's [unfortunately] infamous for chasing deer, etc. I reach in my

pocket, pull out my trusty [ALWAYS carry one of these!] Acme Thunderer Whistle. I

blow. And blow. And blow. I'm hyperventilating. All the worst thoughts circulate

through my head. Damn dog. Bear turned on her. Drat. Now what? Then--Wayyyyyy off

in the distance, Michael hears the tinkle of a bell. Yup. Here comes the Red Dog,

back up the canyon. Flops down on the trail. Looks up at me with that "geez, that

was fun" look. "Hey, dad, if I get another one I'll run it back this way so's you

can skin it out while I look for more, OK?" BTW--there weren't any 'shrooms,

either. Oh well. Becky got a Bear.

Becky [*Why* did you whistle me off that Bear dad? I had the sucker, I'm tellin'

ya--!]

Earnie [That Red Dog is either *really* brave or---awful stoopid. She's on her own

on this one.]

Peggy Sue [I never left the trail! I'm *much* smarter than that!]

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

Hold on folks--let's not let this get out of perspective! I have to say I agree

"wholeheartedly" with the Honorable James Bushey on his most eloquent post this

morning. But--I also agree that *not all* posts are going to be *completely*

Golden-Related. I'm doubtless one of the worst "off-subject" posters to this list.

Over the years, I have suffered, yeah verily--been *hammered* by a few individuals

who don't like me, my dogs, my car, my wife--or their lives.

As far as the short shout sent to Greg, I think most of you have it *all wrong*. I

get the impression the main objection is to the "F" word. Humph. I can live with

that--it's in the papers, the movies, the books, etc. What **I** really objected

to was the use of the word--*JOB*! It was shouted, no less. Any of you folks know

how repulsive the word [gag] *job* is to us retired people? Hey, have a heart out there.

About flames. Guess I've received more than my share. Maybe not. Lately I can't

seen to get anyone mad. Most of you know I kissed the Blarney Stone on a cold

morning, and my lips froze to it. Overdosed. My deepest regret is that I tend to

delete the flames I get. Too bad. I could add a chapter to our upcoming book. I'll

share a few of the comments with you. I've cleaned them up for the sole purpose of

keeping this a *G* rated list. Use your imagination.

1. For the record, my folks were married when I was conceived. I have proof.

2. I have never owned *any* livestock, let alone sheep, therefore could not have

done what I was accused of. Actually, I never thought of it. This person had a

vivid imagination. Sick, sick, sick.

3. Although dark complected, I wear a beard. I do not think my head resembles a

large piece of fecal matter. That one hurt. Anyway, Peggy Sue would haveeaten me

years ago.

4. Never have I engaged in a *Monica*. As it turns out, this may be an erroron my

part, because nobody from Italy has offered me $450,000.00 for my modeling

services, either.

5. As far as jumping in lakes goes, I rather enjoy it, thank you. Same goes for

the long walk off a short pier.

I could go on with this, but alas, it's not very Golden related and I mayget

yelled at. I will share a few tips on handling these posts. I visualizethese

folks as traffic cones in Baseball Caps. It helps. Also, a list member [who shall

remain anonymous] has written a symbol for a Flying Cyberwedgie--:>->--}{-< or

}{ for short. Use it. You'll feel better. Maybe you'll get the knots out of

someone's BVDs.

Becky [You forgot the one about your mother. That was low.]

Peggy Sue [Where's this lump of fecal matter?]

Earnie [Hey, lighten up. The poor guy probably hadn't had his second beer

yet.]

Michael & Scotty m

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

Mentioned the other day that Peggy Sue *does not* care for grapes. Had a little

fun at her expense yesterday. Michael came home from the store with a little

carton of what I thought were grapes. Turned out they're Kiwi Fruits, little tiny

green things looking for all the world like green seedless grapes. Of course, the

dogs spotted me gobbling these little delicacies. They figured they needed some of

whatever I was eating. Never mind it could be dirt clods or a lump of coal--if I'm

eating it, they want some. OK. Earnie & Becky will inhale anything I offer them.

No suspicions, with those two. But--Peggy Sue always has to sniff;

lick--suspicious type. Always amazes me the poop-eater is the picky one. Anyway, I

offer a couple to the dogs. Earnie inhales his---looks for another one. Becky

rolls hers around in her mouth--finally swallows, comes back for more. Peggy Sue?

Sniff, lick--and then *ever* so gently takes one with just the tips of her lips.

Carries it around worrying about it. Wasn't sure she wanted it. But, if she

dropped it, the other two would get it. Finally, she sucked it into her mouth--and

got the most surprised look on her face! She liked it! Pretty cute. Now, for those

grapes---!

This will be the last you'll hear from us for two weeks, signing off. Off to

France. Just have to find out for ourselves if the poop problem is as bad as we've

heard in Paris---<VBG>! Hey kids--be nice while we're gone!

Earnie [I could eat a pound of those! Yum!]

Becky [Dad ate one. I want one.]

Peggy Sue [Ummmmm--what *is* this thing? Is it edible? Can't let Earnie get it,

the little hog.]

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

Home at last. Severely jet-lagged. Barely functional. Even less than normal. 22

hrs. on the trip home from Paris--! But, a great trip, saw many wonderfulthings,

and even the weather cooperated. Spent 6 days in the South of France, 5 near

Avignon in a tiny village called Venasque. Beautiful. South France wasnothing

like Paris; where we spent the remainder of our two weeks--no crowds,breathable

air, quiet countryside. Never been a city boy. Paris is a marvelous place to

visit--and a nice place to leave. Too busy. But, oh, the marvels--the ArtMuseums,

Eiffel Tower, things you've read about all your life become real for you. Worth

the crowds, the bad air, the stress.

One of the highlights of our journey was the visit to yet *another* G&H Golden

home. This time in Riverie; France. Riverie is a small medieval village about 15

miles out of Lyon. We had the very great pleasure of spending a night at thehome

of Sandra and Raphael Bertrand; and their Golden bundle of joy, June-Bug.Many

times we've seen something on this list referring to "white" Goldens,usually from

Europe. Now we've seen one for ourselves! June-Bug is a very pedigreed; almost

pure white Golden, 18 months young. A real character, too! Sweet as canbe--but

with an affinity for socks! She really found my wife's socks fascinating!

Hilarious! She would sneak into Michael's luggage, ferret out a pair of socks--and

boogie! She was quick, too--but Michael always managed to retrieve her socks,

sometimes with a little help from Raphael! June-Bug was just what we needed after

being dog-less for over a week! Dog hair in the car! Yessss! June-Bug is one of

those Goldens with a very quick mind--she has quite a vocabulary for herage,

knows the difference between her toys by name. She also does the FRAPs--a lot like

Earnie. One happy dog! June-Bug is the "only child" of a very caring couple. Lucky

dog! There is lots of room to run in Riverie. Standing on the deck of the

Bertrands home, you can see---- forever. They have a commanding view of a pastoral

valley, complete with a small village about a mile away. Open pastures,dotted

with white cows and sheep stretch into the mountains, many miles away on the

horizon. Their home is beautiful, sitting all alone on top of a hillside. It

really does look like the postcard scenes one sees of France. We only wishthere

had been more time to visit. But, unlike retired bums like ourselves,others have

jobs and bosses who expect them to be there. <sigh> I remember how work used to

cramp my style, too! Michael and I wish to make a public "Thank You" to the

Bertrands--who went far, far, out of their way to make our visit a great,Golden

pleasure! To those of you on the list who are thinking of visiting France--be sure to put the

Lyon area on your docket. You'll love 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

Ah, yes, the marvelous reunion! Been away two weeks, all three of myfur-kids at

the dog farm. Literally. We're fortunate enough to be able to leave the dogsat a

farm with a big chain-linked pasture area. They get lots of exercise; unlike most

kennel settings. The downside is that if filth equals fun--Earnie had a real

blast. I walked up to his kennel when we picked them up. Looked in. Oops! Wrong

dog. Earnie is blonde. This dog was brown. Hmmm. Muzzle looks the same. Bighead.

Big feet. Big grin. Damn. I ask "is that Earnie?" The answer was--"ofcourse"!

Seems as how my big-headed boy spent the last two weeks landscaping again. The

last time we left the dogs for an extended visit, he dug one *honkin' huge* hole.

I didn't see it, but I know the neighbor filled it with a diesel front loader. I

think he was trying to catch a cow. This time, he went for variety. Lots of

smaller holes. Like Normandy Beach. I was advised not to worry, these holes were

repairable with a hand shovel. OK. I can live with that.

So, you ask, why leave them where they get dirty? Good question. Ya see, I spent

some time trying to put myself in the dogs shoes, so to speak. [Dogs gotshoes?]

Think like a dog. Try it. For the men on this list, a warning. Be carefulhow far

you carry this, bathing can be hazardous to your health. You may end up at the

Chiropractor, who's simply not going to understand your story. Anyhow, I figure,

would I rather be cooped up in a nice, clean, cement kennel and run twice a

day--or would I prefer to spend my time on several acres of nice fenced pasture

with my family dogs to run with. Uh-huh. Mud be damned. Gimme freedom!Bathing

three dirty critters is a small price to pay for the knowledge they were at least

having a little fun. In Earnie's case, maybe **more** than a little fun. So now,

we're all together again! Three nice clean dogs, two tired humans. Life isgood.

The next adventure? Prepare yourselves, those of you living in Southern

California--or on the way. The next road trip will likely include -- the

dogs!!

Anybody need some rototilling done? Have dog, will travel.

Becky [Road trip? Did I hear road trip? Can we visit the No-Mo-Ro-Mobile? I want

another ride!]

Peggy Sue [I wanna meet Gemma. She sounds like my kinda girl!]

Earnie [Road trip? Yeah, I can dig that. Pun, dude, that's a pun---! Geez, my

front feet are sore. I had too much fun. How come you wouldn't let us in the house

yesterday until we bathed? Talk about anal---! A little mud never hurt

anything.]

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

Read the posts regarding one of my favorite [not] bloodsucking friends with

interest--and repulsion. The post written by Suzanne Bria is good information. The

only thing I would suggest is rather than using tweezers, go to your local

Sporting Goods store and purchase a couple of sets of Tick Pliers. Yes, I'm

serious for once. These are little plastic pliers, resembling baby wire cutters.

They're designed specifically for the removal of embedded ticks. They have just

the right curvature in the jaws for exerting minor leverage whilst prying the wee

beasties out. They also have just the right distance between the jaws so you will

not break off the little buggers heads while pulling them. So far, I'm at 100%

success in pulling ticks with these little dandy pliers. Not only off the dogs,

but off myself and my wife. A real test of these was the morning-- wellbefore

dawn when I was awakened from a sound sleep in our Travel Trailer by a freaked-out

wife. "Get it out! Get it out!" She screamed, while throwing her leg over my face

to show me the tick buried in her ankle. Even half-awake; we succeeded in removing

the offending blood-sucker.

One of the pleasures of pulling the tick out in one healthy piece is that you are

now free to utilize innovative methods of extermination. Dave Larsons method of

lighting them after an alcohol dip to listen to them pop is my current favorite.

Mashing them with the blunt end of a hunting knife also produces a satisfying

squashing sound. Of course, if you believe in reincarnation, perhaps you'll just

live and let live. But I doubt it. Oh, and by the way--flushing them down the

toilet does nothing except relocate the problem. They can live in water for two

weeks. So, if you put them in the toilet don't flush it for two weeks. Be sure to

open the windows, though.

Earnie [Like he said--ticks suck.]

Becky [Mom really freaks when she sees one. hoo-boy!@]

Peggy Sue [It was too funny when dad got into the hot tub and found one buried in

his leg! heehee!]

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

We have hit a minor snag here at the Richardson household. It seems that after

living at the dog farm for two weeks, Earnie has decided that coming when called

is optional. Hmmmm. Granted, the dogs have a lot of freedom and probably not a lot

of discipline while we're away. But--not **that** much freedom!

Monday night, during his agility lesson, he figured out that running across the

arena to visit Michael and his breeder was more interesting than what we were

doing. Jump, jump, tire--and gone. Calling him in a nice voice had noeffect.

Calling him in a gruff voice had no effect. To say I was finding this a bit

frustrating is putting it mildly. The fourth; and **last** time he pulled this

little stunt I had a great mental picture of a fattened blonde dog, slowly

roasting on a spit---! Naturally, this was the first time his breeder had come to

watch him, too. Add that to the fact I was still a bit out of it with jet lag,

and, well, you get the picture. There were only 10 minutes left in the session

anyway, so I put the little miscreant in the car before I did anything I'd regret

in the morning. Fortunately, Becky's class is right after Earnies--and she did

everything perfectly. One out of two ain't bad, I guess. Red dogs rule, Blonde

dogs drool.

So, we are back to basics this week. Twice a day, drilling the little bugger on

basic obedience. Naturally, he's doing all that stuff OK. I can drop him with a

hand signal from 50 ft. Recall him around blind corners. Down him from around

blind corners. Arrgghh. We even set him up to fail on recall by putting a nice,

smelly, pile of weenies in front of him that he had to cross to get to me on

recall. He passed up the weenies. Amazing. Tomorrow night we have a "special"

session with his obedience trainer who is slightly appalled at his misbehavior.

Earnie has been near perfect for close to a year--now this. During this "special"

session he'll be severely tested. Usually, with large, savory pieces of smoked

ham. The idea is he **must** come to me and NOT stop to eat the ham--normally, he

does this. We'll see. His obedience trainer also said I handled his naughtiness

wrong. I went after him, calling him. Each time I got close, he would come. You

cannot correct a dog when they come to you. So I had to act happy. Believe me, it

was an act. She said not to call him more than once--just go get him. Grab the

little bugger by the scruff of the neck and make eye contact--telling him he WILL

COME when called! So, I guess if this military obedience drilling doesn't do the

trick--he's in for a bit of a surprise. Any suggestions? Other than side dishes

that go well with BBQed dog?

Becky [Hoo-boy! Dad **does not** like to be ignored when he calls us---!]

Peggy Sue [Aw, nuts. I've been ignoring him for years.]

Earnie [Oh, no! Not ANOTHER lesson? Do I get treats?]

Michael & Scotty

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