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Who you gonna call?


Sharing our home and our lives with dogs is a privilege. We simply provide for them. What they give back is immeasurable. We laugh often, play like children, forget the troubles of the world together. We are blessed.

It was never our intent to have three dogs. They all found their way to us by different means, tugging at just the right heart string at just the right time. Each needed a place to call home, and we were happy to oblige. Considering their disparate histories, and scattered geographic origins, I would never have expected them to fall in love with each other and embrace life together as quickly as they did.

In hindsight it all seemed so innocent.

For some reason not known to me, Nigel, Sola and Truffles share a common goal: complete and utter fruitbowl decimation. Not a day passes without a paw, tail, or deliberately thrown snout making contact with my nether regions. It is not at all uncommon for Mrs. Author to walk around a corner to find me writhing on the floor, cursing one of our critters. I often return from work to the bustle of my beloved family only to find myself temporarily crippled, laptop bag and its contents strewn about me, the safety of my office miles behind me; Nigel eying me for a treat that will not be dispensed.

The long term result of this behavior has been a change in my posture and stature. Multiple instances of paw to parts contact has left me hunched over. I walk with my legs slightly crossed. Mrs. Author likes to remind me that I was 6’1″ when we met. I now stand at just over four feet tall.

Had I not investigated a strange rustling sound emanating from one of the guest bedrooms Saturday, I would have chalked all of this up to coincidence. The door thrown open, I froze as my blood temp dropped by a few degrees – Sola was practicing.

Frightened and disillusioned, I started to pay closer attention to the happenings around the house. All was quiet until Sunday evening.

Unfortunate as it may be, Sola’s hatred for TV dogs necessitates confinement when the Puppy Bowl plays during Super Bowl halftime. I thought it best to send Nigel and Truffles to the dog room with her so she would not be lonely. Another mistake. As pooches of assorted breeds made their way across the screen, Mrs. Author and I were oohing and aahing when the faintest sound of music drifted toward us from the dog room at the end of the hall.

If the pops comes home, and his parts aren’t blocked, who you gonna call? Junk Busters!

Throw a paw right up, gonna break that…….spirit. Who you gonna call? Junk Busters!

If he gets home late, use your newfound trick. Who you gonna call? Junk Busters!

Make him quite irate, try to smash that-

Mrs. Author slammed the door and ushered me in to the kitchen. A tear of painful remembrance ran down my cheek as their tune of torture echoed in my head. I watched her rustle through kitchen cabinets and drawers, and closed my eyes as one of the original lines from the song found its way back to my memory:

Lemme tell ya something
Bustin’ makes me feel good!

My love for music had burned me. We listen to music daily in the car, the house – iTunes is always running in the background. I had always been told that leaving music on for dogs was soothing and helped them to relax. It never occurred to me that the lyrics were of importance, nor was I aware that said music would facilitate twig and berry destruction.

Reality sank in when I felt Mrs. Author tugging at my belt. While this is normally the sign of good things to come, I looked down to find a rather foreboding arrangement. The dog room door creaked open slowly, ominously. Sola inched her way down the hall on a poorly disguised scouting mission and moved in for a closer look.

It would be of no surprise to me if Williams-Sonoma did not approach me for their next advertising campaign, but let me be the first to tell you that Mrs. Author is brilliant. The ensuing days sounded like a loop tape of the Gong Show. Paws flew with fury, only to be met with a metallic clang that signaled serious canine disappointment. Time after time, my little metal friend thwarted their advances with a resounding ring that rattled my fillings and knocked crows off their perches countywide.

A call from the neighbors underscored the effectiveness of my newest fashion accessory, Mr. Strainer.

*Ring* *Ring*

“Hello, Hunchback house.”

Neighbor: “Hey I just wanted to ask you quickly – have you been hearing church bells?”

“Um….well yes, I have. It sounds like it’s coming from the neighbors on the other side of me…”

Neighbor: “OK, I thought someone had taken the Liberty Bell on tour and was driving it up the street.”

1800 got junk

As I recall the events of the week, two things occur to me:

It feels smashing to walk upright.

And I’ll never look at pasta the same way again.

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  1. That is hillarious. Who knew that those strainers could have a dual perpose. Biped Toph says his junk is always being used as a trampoline. Perhaps he needs one of thoes..

    Yepper both Callie and Louie are deaf. Callie seems to have more instinct but Louie so enjoys himself while he is out there with the sheep or goats. He may not be a champion by any means but as long as he is having fun we are happy for him. Sometimes he goes into the “Louie Zone” but heck that is our Louie we wouldn’t have him any other way..

    Big Sloppy Kisses
    Gus, Louie and Callie

  2. Nigel, I just joined your blog network, and you had me laughing so hard, my sister was wondering if everything was alright with me!

    Will DEFINITELY be following your trials and “junk” tribulations on a regular basis!


  3. I think you earned a part in the wizard of oz.. the tin man. Are you a victim of the oedipus complex? a burning desire for your boys to be close to mom and get rid of you! There’s something freudian going on in your house.


  4. Holy mackerel Batman…

    Too funny for words!

    In a rescue home full of dogs, cats and parrots, my poor husband takes the brunt of the beatings, and oddly enough his poor fruit takes the worst of the beating too. Not sure what exactly draws them to it like bats to balls (HA!) but he, too, used to be a tall man.

    Can’t wait to show him this post… he will be forever grateful to know he is not alone. :O) Just have to be sure the dogs don’t see it. Oh, and the cats would like to point out that until you’ve had a 25lb feline make a two point landing directly into your funspot off the shelf above your bed… you ain’t felt nothin’ yet. They’re already in the kitchen, hiding the strainer…

  5. fruitbowl decimation?!??!?! you are a scream!!! i still love your dogs, tho. they are adorable. my cats like to walk on my boobs, and that isn’t doing me any favors.

    love yer blog, and thank you for visiting mine.

  6. Ah, but with 6 dogs running around the house, I can assure you that they just escalate the assault in new and creative ways. Like one standing behind you as the other leaps onto your chest which results in you flat on your back while 24 paws all stand on you at the same time to make sure that you are ok (yeah, that helps).

  7. OMD….My Mom is doubled over laughing like a hyena! What great blog writers you dogs have and don’t give up…you will figure out a way to destroy the strainer! 🙂

    Happy Evil Planning,

  8. Okay… I’m still bent over in half. Photos so hysterical and writing… well… need to find a publisher arf arfwoofffffffffff. I’ll keep reading the NY Times book review.
    Hugs and Licks,

  9. Okay this is comment #2 for me but I have a technical question. What gadget have you used to post your links in your ‘Reader Faves and Raves’? For some reason I can’t find the right gadget to use. Any tips would help! Can you tell I’m new to Blogger? 🙂

  10. OMdoG.. Just when we thought things couldn’t get any funnier, we saw the pic of Mr Strainer!! That is one great contraption and due credit must certinaly be given to Mrs Author! (it’s also put an idea in our mom’s head cos Hershey sometimes accidentally/ intentionally jumps on our dad’s nether regions when he is lying down!Hahahha.. I think our new neighbours will be callling us soon).

  11. uuuummmm, Are ya tryin’ ta ruin’ yer little doggies fun there….are ya…are ya ??? There should be a law against it fer sure…..’n everyone knows that metal thingie with all the holes belongs in the kitchen….it wasn’t made ta be unmentionable protection….get a grip….will ya ???

    Dewey Dewster here…..

  12. OMG!!!! Hilarious post—again!– pure solid gold :o) I am thinking of now making a strainer bra á la Zena, Warrior Princess…..mine are short-legged dawgs so hubby need not protect his jewels, but they do love to stomp on my boobs as I try to relax on the sofa….or even while I sleep!
    Thanks for the utensil related tip!

  13. Some biped here has just about peed her pants!!!! this is the funniest post ever!!! Our Dad would agree with almost all that you have said – from both pups and bipeds. Mom is going to share this with her DH.

    Tail wags, the OP Pack

  14. Kids and dogs seem like a great fit. We don’t have any children, but my girlfriend and I are considering adding a 2nd dog to the mix…we’ve heard from friends that another dog would give Riley a friend to play with 24/7…Good advice??

  15. This post (to paraphrase an old song) has left me breathless. Laughing so hard . . .”You leave me breathless is all I can say, I can’t say more because you take my breath away” Of course you might sing it to your doggies too, those rascals!

    Kisses,discreet ones,

  16. Falling down, drop dead, over-the-top hilarious!! Being of the female persuasion, I have no concerns re “junk bustin’.” However, reading your epistle elicited some concern for those suffering from this malady. It’s going to be difficult to top this one! You are the bomb!

  17. Too funny..Luckily Jason is 6’5″ so he is ‘above this problem’ but many of our friends have been tortured by Dana’s tail as it helicopters right in to their ‘junk’ reducing them to a mass on the floor.

  18. Can we register a complaint please? We TN Bull Terrors do NOT think that is funny and it needs to be taken off here right away, BEFORE DawgDaddy sees it! We do our “junk busting” with our heads and that looks like it would hurt, so please remove this offending post before our DawgDaddy sees it and gets ideas he should not be getting. Thank you for you co-operation in our daily endeavor to make DawgDaddy yell about our head butting. Oh and just because DawgMom is laughing means nothing, she does have half-timer’s you know.
    Feather, Darla, Pappy & Chico

  19. OMG. Where else would all these words end up making an absolutely hilarious post?

    Fruit bowl… ghost busters… church bells… pasta strainer… Thanks, I needed a laugh.

    Nice Photoshop work too!

  20. Just when I thought you couldn’t get any funnier, you throw the strainer picture at me-and I went and forgot to latch my newly installed seatbelt on my work chair. You did warn me. Chester’s dad is forever in your debt. I will be “rigging” him up tonight using your photo as my template. Of course, that’s after I have spaghetti for supper.
    1) Dog Forums-good
    2) Dog Blogs – funny
    3) Lifewithdogs.blogspot.com-priceless

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