Blog #481                                May 28, 2026

 

Do you like dogs?  I like dogs.  On my last trip to North Carolina, I took one of my daughter’s dogs to a popular dog-walking place.  There were lots of dogs there and the routine is always the same.  My dog sniffs your dog; your dog sniffs my dog and then we exchange breeds.  Mine is an Australian Shepherd, I volunteered.  She’s a rescue dog.  “Oh, mine is a Gerberian Shepsky,” the haughty, short-haired woman replied, describing her obstreperous and vicious-looking pet.  A Gerberian WHATSKY?  Is that the name of a dog or a hockey goalie?  “A dog,” she replied. “It’s a mix of a German Shepherd and a Siberian Husky.”

 

Well, excuuuuuse moi!  You know, it used to be we’d show off our wealth with an expensive purchase.  “Have you seen my new 911 Carrera or my 300-SL?  Do you like my Judith Leiber or my Jimmy Choos?”  Now the glitterati among us show their hifalutin bona fides by mixing up a batch of doggie genes in a blender.  And when they blend the dogs, they blend the names.  No longer do they have collies or poodles or cocker spaniels.  Now they have Yoranians, Chiweenies and Double Doodles.  They have Cockapoos, Corgipoos and Labskies.  They have Bassadors, Cavapoochons and Pitt Plotts.  These are real.  How could I make these up?  Now, instead of hearing “Hi, what a cute dog”, I hear “Would your Double Doodle like to sniff my Chiweenie?”  I just want to go up to these people and scream, “Kiss my Bassador!  Save the two thousand bucks and adopt a rescue dog.”  And Cockapoos?  I haven’t heard that word since I was toilet-training my first grandchild.

 

And speaking of Judith Leiber, I’ve always wondered if, when she passed away some years ago, they buried her in a tiny, little heart-shaped coffin covered in rhinestones.  Probably.

 

This is the perfect time to tell you my favorite dog joke.  You’ve heard it before, but --- here goes.  John and Joe were out walking their dogs.  John had a German Shepherd named Fritz and Joe had a Chihuahua named Taco.  John said, “There’s a bar over there.  I’m going to get a beer.”  Joe reminded him he couldn’t take Fritz into the bar, but John said, “Watch this.”  He and Fritz walked right into the bar and came out ten minutes later.  Joe asked what happened.  “Well,” replied John, “I had my sunglasses on and I told them I was blind and that Fritz was a seeing-eye dog. The bartender was nice enough to give me a free beer and a cup of water for Fritz.”  So Joe decided to try it.  He put on sunglasses and walked into the bar.  “Hey, Buddy,” the bartender said immediately, “you can’t bring that dog in here.”  Joe explained he was blind and that Taco was his seeing-eye dog.  The bartender laughed.  “That’s no seeing-eye dog,” he said, “That’s a Chihuahua.”  WHAT, exclaimed Joe, THEY GAVE ME A CHIHUAHUA?”

 

And now it’s a perfect time to tell you that obstreperous, our Weekly Word, means noisy and difficult to control.

 

Message from Shakespeare, the three-legged cat:  Thou call’dst me dog before thou hadst a cause, But since I am a dog, beware my fangs (Merchant of Venice).

Dog jokes!  Dog breeds!  I know my Pops likes dogs, because sometimes when he comes home, I can smell that he’s been petting one.  But he should stop talking about smelly, stupid dogs and just tell you what a wonderful cat I am.  Purr.

 

Hi there and welcome back.  I hope you are feeling well and enjoyed your Memorial Day, the unofficial beginning of Summer.  Summer, of course, means food, barbecue, food, picnics, food.  Most of my family will be going to North Carolina soon to enjoy a week on the beach.  All my daughters will be there and a good portion of grandchildren, and mostly we will be taking meals in the rental house we will occupy.  My oldest, Jennifer, is the most attuned to the value of healthy foods.  Basically, she has turned into Rachael Ray on Ritalin and everything she buys is organic and natural and fat-free and whole grain with no fructose or GMOs or fatty this or artificial that.  I mean she is the only person I know who has both curds and whey in her kitchen.  Well, I can’t deal with it.  I need chicken.  I stay away from red meat, but I am by nature a carnivore and crave some form of animal protein.

 

With tofu, my heart will stop tickin’

And eggplant will cause me to sicken

No quinoa or curd

Just flip me the bird

This carnivore’s stickin’ with chicken.

 

I’m only teasing.  My daughter only wants to keep me healthy, which I appreciate.  But one time, I was forced to order in some Chinese food.  What could possibly be more American than Chinese food?  I found a local place and pulled up the menu on line.  I’m such a techie.  Then I called and told the nice Chinese lady that I wanted a Number 7 with chicken.  Ok, she said.  And a Number 16 with shrimp.  Ok, she said.  Then I asked her how long.  “How Long not hee today,” she replied.  I said ni hau and gave her my address.  Ni hau means good morning in Mandarin.  Or maybe it means “there is yak dung on your nose.”  I’m not really sure.  In any event, the food arrived and was spectacular.  The only glitch was when I opened the fortune cookie.  It read “Those who insult other people’s noses may die from food poisoning.”

 

Ok, before I go, I need to pick a bone with the NAACP.  Not with what they do, but with their name.  NAACP stands for National Association for the Advancement of Colored People.  It’s about time, I believe, to change the “colored people” designation to “African Americans”.  Don’t you agree?  That will make it the National Association for the Advancement of African Americans, NAAAA, the N Double-A Double-A.  It’s still a catchy name, and I sent a letter to the organization asking if they’d like to make the change.  Their answer was “Naaaa”.   Well, I tried.

 

You’ve probably had enough, so you’re excused.  Stay well, count your blessings and don’t be obstreperous.  See you next week.

 

Michael                                    Send comments to mfox1746@gmail.com