Forfucksake - need I say more?!

Forfucksake is the word most used in my vocabulary. I am as known for FFS as I am for living with a "Donkey." I think its about time this versitile word and its abbreviation is officially added to the English language. Webster's - you can be the pioneers of the best word ever - add FFS to your dictionary. You won't regret it!

Here are just a few examples of the many uses for FFS:

When Donkey craps in the house.... FFS!
When the dogs run out of food at mealtime.... Oh FFS!
When TBonz nips at Donkey's wobbly legs... FFS TBonz, leave Donkey alone!
When work wants yet another piece of useless video sent out.... oh FFS, are you KIDDING me?!
When eating a catfish breakfast at Thumb's Up Diner ... FFS, that is good!
When catching glimpse of a delicious fireman.... FFS, he is HOT!

Forfucksake people... get the word out....lets make FFS an official part of the English language. Who's with me?!

a MUST have for everyone - especially dog owners!

Living in a house with seven dogs... this is a necessity, a requirement, a must!
That's right people - the coffee martini - it is perfect for breakfast, lunch and dinner.

Coffee Martini:
1 oz vodka (double for multiple dog owners)
1 oz coffee liquor
1 oz shot Bailey's Irish Cream

Pour in a shaker with ice... and drink till the barking in your head ceases!

liquor used: (suggestions only - any will do - trust me!)
grey goose vodka
starbucks coffee liqueur
baileys irish cream

If I ever make it to 182 years old - please shoot me!

At an impressive 26 years old, Max is 182 in people years.... at 40, I am not half the dog he is!
Check out this amazing, spry old pooch!

Good Old Max

Gray, Gray Go Away

Why is it Donkey's fur is luxurious, velvety silver, fabulous and on me the same color is dull and wiry?! Donkey is even starting to get silver on his silver, but Donks looks distinguished and handsome. Me? old spinster'ish and witch-like, but alas, if the hair fits....



Ha! Now here is where genetics played a wicked trick on me. My parents didn't become silver foxes until well into their 60's and even now, approaching mid-70's, they are both far from fully gray and are looking fantastic!



So when I passed the bathroom mirror today and was blinded by the glare of a silver strand... and then another... and well you get the point, I was in an instant panic! How could this be? Where did they come from? And when will they stop appearing? HELP!

But then again, I suppose I should count my silvery blessings, I could be bald like my brother! (love you, J-Man)

COLLAR UP !!!

Collar up people!
I am not talking about becoming priests, or cops… I am talking about your dogs!
Get an identification tag and hang it around your beloved pet’s neck. It is not rocket science, in fact its elementary. It is simple and can cost as little or as much as you want. Sure you can get the finest designer leather collar for your pooch, or you can even use a piece of yarn. Whatever it takes - get your dog prepared for the outside world, in the event he or she becomes lost.



Now, I am clearly a magnet for the lost and confused. Just the other day, I spotted two canine buddies frolicking in my neighbor’s front yard. They were obviously lost. After wooing them with my charm and the promise of water, I lured them to the safety of my yard. Upon further examination, I realized they were naked. No collars. No Identification, Nada. Zip. Zilch.

After using my own dogs collars and leashes to wrangle the two escapees, I loaded them into the car and set off to scour nearby neighborhoods for their owner. It was obvious the two outlaws were somebody’s pets. After a couple hours of searching, I found the owner. He was relieved to have his four legged family members back and I was thankful to reunite the delighted threesome.

This entire ordeal could have been avoided with a simple ID tag. Had there been a name and phone number adorning the bewildered dogs, I could have delivered the precious goods in minutes.

There are tons of tags to chose from on the market, after all the pet industry rakes in an estimated 34 billion dollars a year. The ID tags can be ornate and custom made or you can get one in 30 seconds, from a vending machine at PetSmart. Just please do it.

I have multiple dogs, and while they would never wander from their laps of luxury, each one wears a collar with a tag. If old Donkey decides to one day hit the road, my cherished pooch could quickly be returned – all because he is properly outfitted with an identification tag



Get a tag today. Your pet’s life may depend on it.

HER TONGUE IS IN MY MOUTH!

That's what my mom screamed, when a then six-month old exuberant Ellie expressed love for her canine-virginal grandma.

My response: "Then close your mouth!"

Ellie continued her amorous attack, grandma was speechless and I snorted with laughter.

Ode To Diddy

Diddy was an amazing man.

He was my college roommate's father and my introduction to a true southern gent. Diddy spoke with an accent this yankee girl had never heard. It was a rich, twanging voice that charmed a native Buffalo, New Yorker with every spoken word. Diddy was a kind man who adored his daughters and wife. The Scruggs family was and still is one of the rare, intact families I've had the privilege of knowing. Diddy had a wonderful zest for life and an infectious sense of humor. He not only welcomed a displaced northern gal into is home, he did it with open arms and the same good-hearted teasing bestowed upon his own. He never missed an opportunity to joke with me and I loved it. Now I had never heard parents called Mumma and Diddy before and have not since. Heather's father will always be my first and only Diddy.

I wouldn't want it any other way.

Donkey Needs Help

I am feverishly searching for a 12-step program for Donkey's pillow addiction!

Donkey Takes Cover

Donks was happliy sleeping on my bed - buried alive... until I decided to snap this photo with my phone. Who could resist? Clearly, not I!

Big Brother to the Rescue

Last week, I received a voicemail message from some kid. After listening to the incoherent mumbles of what sounded like a 12 year old boy, I realized the message was for Avery.

Who is Avery? I haven't a clue.

Determining the youngster dialed the wrong number, I moved on. The adolescent terror did not, as the next day he called several more times. No additional were messages left, so I didn't give the calls much thought - that is, until the texting began! I was at my brother's, engaged in family holiday festivities at the time.

The typing assault went as follows:

Pisspot: Hey im crying please text me back im so sad and i i want to talk to someone
Me: u have the wrong number
Pisspot: Who is this
Me: who r you?
Pisspot: Who is this
Pisspot: Who is this!!!?
Pisspot: Whoooooooooooooo is thisssssssssssss please answer me
Pisspot: Tell me who you are nowwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww
Pisspot: Tell me who you are nowwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

By now, I realized I was paying for this little pisspot to interrogate me. So, after I said, "For fucksake, I cant take the pain anymore!" My big brother immediately jumped into action and said, "Do you want me to take care of this?" Without saying a word, I handed Justin the phone and chest bowing, he stepped outside.

I haven't heard from my little "friend" since.

Oh yea - did I happen to mention - my brother is 42 and only a couple years older than I.

The advantages of being a little sister really are timeless!

The Things We Do For Love

A few days after my Ellie passed, I decided I needed to have a piece of her with me always. So what did I do? Got myself a tattoo (sorry mom)! That's right... I got inked in honor of my girl. Its my first tattoo in ten years, bringing the current total to two.

My new tattoo is based on the design in Ellie's food bowl, and the artist added her name along with a couple of decorative swirlies - it's a nice touch. I simply love it!

Now, the tattoo is placed on the inside of my right arm - I was a little freaked-out the first week at the whole "looking like a lesbian sailor," but I am over it now.... and no offense to either sects of people - live and let live, I say!

Its been 2 months since I lost Ellie and I sure do miss my sweet girl, every single day. Having a bit of her stamped on my arm brings me a bit of comfort.

Without further ado - my ode to Miss Ellie Mae Webb...

My Ellie Fought The Good Fight

In loving memory of Ellie
(11/1/03 - 9/22/08)

Oh my heart is so heavy right now...

My sweet Ellie had been plagued with liver issues for the last few months... medication helped for awhile but the past couple of weeks and recent blood word said she was a sick girl... not knowing the ultimate cause or how bad it was, she underwent a liver biopsy and exploratory surgery... The diagnosis: Eliie was in the final stages of liver failure.

At 10am Monday (9/22) morning I helped my 4 1/2 year old girl pass-on. Ellie went peacefully and I am thankful I could be with her. It is by far the hardest thing I have ever had to do and a piece of me went with her.

My heart is shattered. I am not quite sure how to go on without my baby girl.

Ellie was such a loving, happy, silly dog her entire short life and loved by all those who knew her. She fought the good fight right till the end and will forever be missed. She will always be my girl.

I take comfort in knowing Ellie is chasing squirrels and tennis balls... and is free from pain.