Wednesday, June 29, 2016

Tasty Floor, Lazy Dog

I remember when I had Lettie, someone said to me something that stuck in my head.  She was about four years old at that time and the person said "Oh!  She's middle aged, and will be slowing down soon!".

The comment was right.  It just was a bit jarring to me.

I have had dogs before her, and after her, but I had never paid such close attention to how fast dogs age until then.

They join your life, make it more full, enrich you.  A dog can be a faithful companion, and they can be a lever to help you do more in your own life.  It really is up to you.  We're learning now, as human kind, how much more other species know and are aware of what is going on around them.

My own boy, Rack the McNab SuperDog (TM) is getting older now.  He will be four years old in September.  I'm seeing random grey in his fur around his face that was not there before.  For a pure black and white dog, the grey shows up in obvious comparison.

Being middle aged, or at least approaching it, he is now slowing down a bit.

Rack knows how to get my attention, and while asking him to "Show Me What You Want" is a little inexact for him, he will go to the back door and nod his head "Yes".  He also nods yes for other things that he wants, so perhaps the conversation is right and the human needs a bit of training instead of blaming the dog.

I open the door and instead of him running at warp speed out to the yard, he trots out and goes about his business. 

It used to be that I would clap my hands, he'd get excited, and run around the yard so fast that he would fall through a wormhole into an alternate dimension.  Now, meh, he'll get there when he gets there.  Trotting around the yard, once in a while he'll get a burst of energy, but I have to put some effort into getting that out of him.  More likely, when I try to run after him, he'll sit down on the ground. 

Jumping in the air doesn't help.  He'll go into a play stance and then roll over onto his back.

I can get him going, he's not completely lazy yet.  It is after all Florida and at 5pm in June, it is usually around 90 degrees give or take a few.  If I don't like the heat, it is a lock that in a black fur coat, Rack won't either.

He follows me all over the house as well.   I'm going about my own routines during the day.  He watches.  Only coming into the kitchen when I am cooking or when the second mug of coffee is being prepared, he knows when I am a soft touch and when he can get food.

Mind you, not HIS food, he still takes far too long to eat that, but MY food is open for discussion.

I'll park in my Poang Chair and start watching Spanish Language Cartoons to practice Spanish over the lunch hour and he's sitting there listening.  Being a middle aged dog, he will lay down and eventually "nod off".  Being made out of rubber bands and strings he will contort himself into weird fluid curves or completely relax by flattening out into a furry pancake.

We have all seen how a dog will melt into the cool tiles of the floor after a long hot day.  Mine?  Well he'll lay down and get so relaxed that his tongue will loll out of his mouth and onto the floor. 

That particular day he was out so deeply that his tongue stuck to the tiles.

Funny creatures, these dogs.  You never know what they'll get into next.

Sunday, June 26, 2016

A Train Driver Accidentally Kills a Man When He Drives Off The Tracks

A Train driver accidentally kills a man when he drives off the tracks.

Since he killed a person, the court sentences him to death by electrocution chair.

For his last meal, he requests a single banana. The prison guard thought it was odd, but gave him the banana, and the man ate it.

The next day, the man is strapped onto the electrocution chair and the executioner switches the electricity on.

Nothing happened at all. This city has a law that allows a prisoner to walk free if the execution somehow doesn't work, so the train driver was acquitted.

A week later, the train driver miraculously got another job at the train station. However, he drove off the tracks again and killed two people.

This man was then arrested immediately and sentenced to death again. For his last meal, the train driver requests two bananas which is fulfilled. The next day, the man is strapped onto the electrocution chair and the executioner turns on the electricity.

Nothing happens. So, again, the man is allowed to walk free.

The next week, the train driver somehow managed to get another job at the train station.

Again, he drove off the tracks and killed three people. Again, the man was arrested immediately and sentenced to death. This time, for his last meal, the train driver requests three bananas. The exasperated prison guard exclaims, "Stop! You don't get another banana!" and takes the train driver to his execution.

The train driver once again is strapped onto the chair, and the executioner turns on the electricity. Once again, nothing happens.

The executioner and prison guards are dumbfounded.

The train driver laughs and says, "See? The bananas have nothing to do with my execution— I'm just a bad conductor."

Saturday, June 25, 2016

Father O'Malley Answers the Phone

Father O'Malley Answers the Phone...

..."Hello, is this Father O'Malley?"
"It is."
"This is the IRS. We'd like to ask you a question."
"Yes, what is it?"
"Do you know a Mr. Michael O'Donohue?"
"I do."
"Is he a member of your flock?"
"He is."
"Did he donate $20,000 to the church?"
"He will."

Wednesday, June 22, 2016

Mango Musings on Recipes in Wilton Manors

Being up an hour and a half before Sunrise in summer means Stupid O'clock.

I'm up with the ends of the creatures of the night, walking my dog.

No, seriously.  My body has been waking up at 4:45AM.  My eye opens and stares at the Chumby that serves as an alarm clock or clock radio that someone thankfully put on top of a box saying "Free to a Good Home" and sees it in big 5 inch tall numbers just about every morning.  Sleeping in means after 5 or even 5:30AM.

No idea why.

But the creatures of the night are normally quiet and don't bother us often as we have the city to ourselves.

Rack, the McNab SuperDog would warn me if anyone were nearby.  He's way too social and will react either with fear or friendship depending on whether there's a creepy vibe or not.

One of the last places I passed by on the long walk of 1 3/4 miles is an "empty lot".  The city bought the lot last year and the eventual plans are to pave it over and put in a parking lot here in paradise.  On the corner is a mango tree.  It is a grand tree, by any definition of the words.  Shading a wide area, it is at least 30 feet tall, and drops one pound plus "Banana Mangoes" on the ground when they tree ripen, or when a good stiff breeze hits the tree.

I know that the tree is due to go because one of the city commissioners is strongly reputed to "hate that tree" and wants it to go.  Strange because that is the commissioner mostly attributed to Green Efforts to improve the environment.  City Governments do not like fruiting or nut trees because all the food that is grown never gets eaten.  Some gets damaged, some falls and breaks the windshields of the Snowbird that was too stupid to park under the tree.  It all has to be picked up and dealt with.   So they put in bland trees that give shade and shelter but no food.

I was thinking about this the other day.  I have a gentleman's agreement with an apartment building owner a short hop from my house.  This particular place has a massive tree on the corner of the property.  It is a Hagen Mango tree that bares fruit that can reach two pounds each.  Consider what a solid fruit that weighs a Kilogram would do to a head if it struck you falling from 32 feet in the air.

So I go in with my Mango Picking Pole and harvest what I can. 

It's not the best because I can only reach about 20 feet high.   This tree is about 40 feet tall, mature, and quite frankly a beautiful tree in its own right. 

However it was not trimmed with picking in mind.  They "elevated" the tree so you can walk under it and allowed it to grow tall.  To allow picking, they would have to lop the top ten feet off the tree.  It would make for a very ugly tree, however the energy of impact of falling fruit would be lessened by not having that extra ten feet to fall.

Each year that I have lived here, I am out there, picking fruit.  Most years I am able to get five buckets of fruit.  This year is a bad harvest.  I managed to only get one bucket of fruit.  The ones there are very large, but few and far between. 

To give you an idea, the Mangoes you see in a supermarket are about the size of an orange.  The ones I picked are the size of a large "gift quality" grapefruit.

And of course they are a fixture in my kitchen.  Taking about a month to ripen on the table, I wait until I can cut them with a butter knife.

Never the less, I truly enjoy those things.  Last year I made up enough Mango Jam that I finished the stuff in April.  The flowers for this year's fruit had just appeared on the tree when I washed out the last jar.

It won't be quite that much this year, which will be fine.  After all, how many Peanut Butter and Mango Jam sandwiches can you eat?

Oh and the fridge jam tastes much better.  You aren't changing the flavor of the fruit by cooking. 

The recipe you ask is simple:

  • 4 cups Mango Chunks
  • 1 package SureJell
  • Sweeten to taste


  • Add Mango and SureJell to the blender.
  • Blend until smooth.
  • Taste.  If not sweet enough, add sweetener of choice to the blender and reblend.
  • Refrigerate and use promptly, I recommend within 2 to 4 weeks.

Sunday, June 19, 2016

A Frog Goes Into A Bank

A frog goes into a bank and approaches the teller.

He can see from her nameplate that her name is Patricia Whack.
"Miss Whack, I'd like to get a $30000 loan to take a holiday."
Patty looks at the frog in disbelief and asks his name.

The frog says his name is Kermit Jagger, his dad is Mick Jagger, and that it's OK, he knows the bank manager.
Patty explains that he will need to secure the loan with some collateral.

The frog says, "Sure. I have this," and produces a tiny porcelain elephant, about half an inch tall - bright pink and perfectly formed.

Very confused, Patty explains that she'll have to consult with the bank manager and disappears into a back office.

She finds the manager and says, "There's a frog called Kermit Jagger out there who claims to know you and wants to borrow $30000, and he wants to use this as collateral."

She holds up the tiny pink elephant.
"I mean, what in the world is this?"

The bank manager looks back at her and says, "It's a knick-knack, Patty Whack, give the frog a loan. His old man's a Rolling Stone."

Saturday, June 18, 2016

A Bunch of Dumb One Liners

So since the joke I had here seemed insensitive when I read it, I deleted it.  I actually deleted it after I sent it out live, about a minute later. 

Instead, here are a bunch of dumb one liners. 

How many DIY-ers does it take to change a light bulb?

Just one, but about a dozen light bulbs.

What do you call James in a sticky situation?

James Bond.

Is there a hole in your shoe?

No?! Then how'd you get your foot in it?!

I just "passed wind"

If you catch my drift...

What's the difference between bird flu and swine flu?

If you have bird flu, you need tweetment. If you have swine flu, you need oink-ment!!!!

A good pun is its own reword.

Why couldn't the police solve the case of the flat car battery?

They had no leads.

Never date a tennis player

Love means nothing to them

Knock knock!
Who's there?
I did ap!
I did ap who?
Yuck! Go to the toilet!

A British man is visiting Australia.

The man at customs asks him "Do you have a criminal record?" The British man replies "I didn't think you'd need one to get into Australia any more."

Why did the golfer wear two pants?

He got a hole in one

I tried making jokes about people who don't go to the gym...

...but none of them worked out.

Patient: Doctor, I have a pain in my eye whenever I drink tea.
Doctor: Take the spoon out of the mug before you drink.

What do you do to a scientist after he dies?

You Barium.

Wednesday, June 15, 2016

Orlando, June 11, 2016, Love Always Wins

This is a picture of the Nations First Permanent Pride Flag installation, or so I have been told.  It stands on Wilton Drive, across from City Hall, in Jaycee Park. Taken June 14, 2016 at around 2 in the afternoon.

About a week after it was installed, the murders happened in Orlando at The Pulse bar.  Now the flag is at half staff along with all the other flags that were seen on Wilton Drive.

It was described by John Oliver as The Most Florida Thing That Could Ever Be.  A Latino night at a gay bar in the theme park capitol of the world.

Or very close to that.

It was a closeted man, hyper religious, and hyper authoritarian.  He had a profile on a gay dating app called Grindr.  Whether he used it to date or to look for victims, we don't know yet.

Probably both I would expect.

We do know he basically hated everyone, according to what his boss said in the interview that I saw.

I will not Pray For Orlando.  It was religion and prayer that got us to where we are.  Had this murderer been following a Religion of Peace, he would not have killed.  His own personal version of the particular religion that he did follow was a twisted relic of evil once his hateful mind got through with it.

I will leave it up to you to judge.  I simply will never support someone elected to office who supports the possession of those sorts of weapons.  They are designed to tenderize their victims and turn them into hamburger before the victim hits the ground.  They are designed to kill people more effectively.  They have no place in this world.

It is long past time to act.  If Sandy Hook and 20 children dying there, and Columbine's massacre weren't I doubt this will be acted on either.  It probably is too profitable for the paid off class of people to want to anger the NRA.

Enough praying.  Time to pass some meaningful gun control laws in this country and where ever else needed.  If the laws are there already, why aren't you people enforcing them?

Lead, Follow, or Get Out Of The Way.

Sunday, June 12, 2016

A Blonde Asks For A Loan

A blonde woman walks into a bank in NYC before going on vacation and asks for a $5,000 loan.

The banker asks, "Okay, miss, is there anything you would like to use as collateral?"
The woman says, "Yes, of course. I'll use my Rolls Royce."

The banker, stunned, asks, "A $250,000 Rolls Royce? Really?"
The woman is completely positive. She hands over the keys, as the bankers and loan officers laugh at her.

They check her credentials, make sure she is the title owner. Everything checks out. They park it in their underground garage for two weeks.
When she comes back, she pays off the $5,000 loan as well as the $15.41 interest.

The loan officer says, "Miss, we are very appreciative of your business with us, but I have one question. We looked you up and found out that you are a multi-millionaire. Why would you want to borrow $5,000?"

The woman replies, "Where else in New York City can I park my car for two weeks for only $15.41 and expect it to be there when I return?"

Saturday, June 11, 2016

A Woman Awakes In The Middle Of The Night

She puts on her robe and goes downstairs to look for him.

She finds him sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of hot cocoa in front of him. He appears to be in deep thought, just staring at the wall. She watches as he wipes away a tear from his eye. "What's the matter, dear?"

she whispers as she steps into the room.... "Why are you down here at this time of night!?"
The husband looks up from his drink, "It's the 20th Anniversary of the day we met."

She can't believe he has remembered and starts to tear up.

The husband continues, "Do you remember 20 years ago when we started dating? I was 18 and you were only 15," he said solemnly.

Once again, the wife is touched to tears thinking that her husband is so caring and sensitive. "Yes, I do" she replies.

The husband pauses....... The words were not coming easily. "Do you remember when your father caught us in the back seat of my car?"

"Yes, I remember" said the wife, lowering herself into a chair beside him.

The husband continued. "Do you remember when he shoved the shotgun in my face and said, Either you marry my daughter or I will make sure you spend the next 20 years in prison?"

"I remember that, too" she replied softly... He sighed as he wiped another tear away from his cheek and said,

"I would have gotten out today."

Wednesday, June 8, 2016

Banana Leaves in the Morning Sun and A Ground Water Shower

I have a routine around here.

Once I've gotten back into the house after a 45 minute dog walk in the morning, I put coffee together.  It's after the dog has been fed, he gets food first simply because he's a painfully slow eater and I end up tapping the food bowl to keep him focused.

He is smaller than he would normally be because food is such a low priority.  That means that I end up being his hunger signal, twice a day.  The old school "take the bowl away if he doesn't eat" doesn't work and is merely cruel, he would simply stop eating out of fear and acceptance of "This is how it is".

But once the food is in him and I have had my coffee, it still is a while to sunrise.

At 7AM, the irrigation system kicks in for a half hour.

"Rack!  Want to go out back?"

Did I even need to ask?  He's standing at the door nodding his head "Yes!" like I'm a fool that should get out of his way.

Yes, I do have a dog who knows how to say "Yes".  He's a McNab.  If you can't train a McNab you don't deserve to have a dog.

This is the low flow drip feed irrigation that is a maintenance chore.  Every day I have to go out and inspect the hoses and feeds to make sure that all the plants are getting water.  If I see water dribbling out of the individual head, I'm moving to the next one.  If you don't blow out the lines frequently things clog.  If you do, you are treated to a slug of mud that collects in the most distant part of the system like where my flowers are growing.

Lines the thickness of over cooked spaghetti made of black plastic, sliding onto compression fittings pierced into larger black plastic water lines.  It all ties into a thicker PVC Pipe somewhere that hooks into the valve that is computer controlled.

It isn't what I would call complex, just involved and fiddly.

Why "Fiddly"?  Because plastic is something that changes in the environment.  It eventually dries out due to UV Light exposure and will crack because of that and the pressure changes that happen during the day when the lines are "charged".

That was where I got in trouble.

I noticed the spray out of the connector at one of the orchids that is growing into the wood on the fence.

Saying to Rack "I'll get back to that", I walked into the yard.  Rack was at my feet because he was herding me to convince me to go inside.  There must have been a trash can lid slammed somewhere in Downtown Fort Lauderdale, two miles away, and he heard it.

"Deal, dog, you need the exposure to noises" and the FEC train was coming up from Miami.  You can hear the whistle a couple miles off and it brings the people up North the Brazilian Oranges they think they are getting from Florida.

Yes, they are coming from Florida.
No, they aren't all grown here.  That is why you can get orange juice in October.

I make a round of the yard.

My Bamboo cuttings are coming in, I will have five plants back by the fence in the utility easement.

The Poinsettia is growing so well that last year's red leaves are covered completely and it is about hip high.

My Podocarpus cuttings are doing well, there is bright green growth on the tips.

...And then I spotted the Banana.  I have one original pot, and two cuttings I am getting going for no good reason.  I have nowhere to put them but I like saying that I can grow the things.  But I was standing on the West side of the plant that moment.  The sun had just cleared the tree line and the fences to the East.  The irrigation and the morning dew had done their thing as well, leaving large drops of mist on the surface of the leaves.

This has to be why I grow the stuff.  Gardening.  The light refracting off of hundreds of beads of water causing rainbows and sparkles in the morning. 

Looking at and marveling at the improbability of it all, I realized it was time to fix that one line.  The rest of the irrigation was running perfectly, which is a rarity.  Usually something somewhere has clogged on a daily basis.

In order to have irrigation lines that crack, clog, and spray, first you have to invent the universe.  (Apologies to Carl Sagan)

I walked to the wet wall, slowing my pace on the slick wood deck.  Reaching through the spikes of the bougainvillea that scratched my arm bloody, I just touched the connector.  It was at that point where I was immediately standing under the Niagara Falls.

The pressure was so high that it sent a stream of ground water up over my head.  Luckily for me it missed me until it hit the roof.  The backsplash was as intense as my shower head in the bathroom.  The water was now running down my head, into my eyes, and on the shirt.  Down the roof it dripped under the Lanai roof and onto the kitchen window.

"Damnit, I just cleaned that thing!"  It was a solid 20 feet from where I was standing, a good room away.

I reached over, clipped off the end of the water line, jammed it back onto the connector and the deluge stopped.

"All I needed was soap and I could have had a shower!" I mused
Rack looked at me as if to say "Am I safe?  Can we go in?  Are you through playing with the water yet?"

"Yes, soon, yes" would have been my answers.

Mom said don't play with the water.  This is my way to do that.  I just would prefer not to do it every single morning.  Even if it does get me up looking at the beauty that can be found in just about any suburban back yard.

Sunday, June 5, 2016

The Man Who Loved Tractors

There once was a man who loved tractors, I mean he absolutely LOVED them.

He had tractor models, tractor wallpaper, remote control miniature tractors, tractor board games, even some tractor porn(which is not easy to find mind you).

The only thing that even came close to his love for tractors, was the love he felt for his wife. His high school sweetheart, who didn't mind his infatuation with tractors one bit. She didn't even mind the role play where she would dress as a tractor, he would dress as a farmer, and he would take her for a "ride".

Sadly his wife was struck one day, a tractor fell off the back of a transport truck. She didn't die until he was at her side in the hospital. Her dying words "don't blame the tractor honey" and with that she headed to the big farm in the sky.

Sadly, he did blame the tractor, he hated them now with all his mind, body, and soul. He went home and destroyed ALL his tractor related items, the toys, his wifes tractor suit, and even his collection of tractor porn.

He put it all in a pile and burned it in the yard.

What ever didn't burn enough to his liking was thrown into a woodchipper.

He then went inside, rarely leaving his home, for 8 years. Finally on the 8th anniversary of his darling wifes death he decided it was time to get back out in the dating world, plus the cute cashier at the grocery store had been asking him out for a while now, he called her out to dinner.

The restaurant he choose ended up being quite nice, good food, good service, great decor. But there was one problem, it was EXTREMELY smoky. So smoky that his date, being an asthmatic, was having some trouble breathing.

After noticing her displeasure, and trouble breathing, he started breathing in. I mean REALLY breathing in. Inhaling with such force that all the smoke quickly left the dining room, and went into his lungs. When the room was void of smoke he stepped outside and released it all into the night.

When he rejoined his date she asked "how on earth did you do that?" to which he replied, "I'm an extractor fan."

Saturday, June 4, 2016

Once Upon a Time, there were Three Kingdoms, All Bordering A Single Lake

For centuries, these kingdoms had fought over an island in the middle of that lake.

One day, they decided to have it out, once and for all. The first kingdom was quite rich, and sent an army of 25 knights, each with three squires. The night before the battle, the knights jousted and cavorted as their squires polished armor, cooked food, and sharpened weapons.

The second kingdom was not so wealthy, and sent only 10 knights, each with 2 squires. The night before the battle, the knights cavorted and sharpened their weapons as the squires polished armor and prepared dinner.

The third kingdom was very poor, and only sent one elderly knight with his sole squire. The night before the battle, the knight sharpened his weapon, while the squire, using a looped rope, slung a pot high over the fire to cook while he prepared the knight's armor.

The next day, the battle began. All the knights of the first two kingdoms had cavorted a bit too much (one should never cavort while sharpening weapons and jousting) and could not fight. The squire of the third kingdom could not rouse the elderly knight in time for combat.

So, in the absence of the knights, the squires fought. The battle raged well into the late hours, but when the dust finally settled, a solitary figure limped from the carnage. The lone squire from the third kingdom dragged himself away, beaten, bloodied, but victorious.

And it just goes to prove, the squire of the high pot and noose is equal to the sum of the squires of the other two sides.

Wednesday, June 1, 2016

Rack, You Don't Get Your Ice Cube Until The Second Mug Of Coffee

The deal with a McNab Dog is that if you can't train one, you can't train a dog.

They're "Gentle Souls", terrible picks for hunting dogs.  I've been told that about mine, and I have seen it born out on the McNab boards on Facebook and other places.  I may be wrong, but Rack being my second one, I don't think so.

Don't raise your voice, Don't yell, don't... you get the picture.  They like things fairly calm.

Think Border Collies that can Relax.  Mine is curled up in the corner next to me.  Flattened out like a pancake, yipping and running in his sleep like he does almost every day.  All the fun and none of the twitchiness you see in other smart breeds.

They watch what you do.  Intently.  If I get up and go to use the bathroom, he will walk over to the door and sit outside of it until he hears that I am finished.  I'll hear his tags chime as he walks away. 

If he could speak, he would be saying "Just checking in on you, Dad".

While he never quite got the "Show Me" behavior, he does have my routine down.  Show Me was where I would tell my old girl Lettie to show me what she wanted and she would go there and point at it with her snout.  It wasn't always food or water either.  Once I had something on my shoe and it bothered her so she made sure that I knew it before I went into the house.

A real Dog Of A Life Time.  Rack has big shoes to fill and he's doing pretty well to fill them at that.

Things have an order to him.  He's like a Business Analyst.  There is a process to things. Everything must be done in a certain way and at a certain time.  He has learned not to bark at the UPS Truck loudly.  Loud is reserved for people at the door.  He has a quiet "woof" to do the truck just to let me know.

We have our routine.  He waters the sign post near the house while I look up and stare at Mars near the Moon, or the clouds on the horizon over the Ocean in the predawn hours.  We have our route of about a mile and a half in the morning, and he holds me to it.  Every turn is mapped out and I have no doubt he could make it home on his own as long as he doesn't get spooked by the evil 50 Bus or a Diesel powered Cube Truck.

We come home, he gets fed, I get fed, I get online for my routine while sipping coffee. 

I have told him that he doesn't get an ice cube then so he wanders off and goes off duty for a while.  Herding Dogs need a job.  If they don't have one, they will make one for themselves.  Ranchers out west know this, and I certainly have become my own dog's job.

Later it is time for breakfast.  The sun has long since come up, we've gone out back and done a perimeter search and examined the Zone 3 Drip Feed Irrigation that is overwatering my plants.

I get all the ingredients out and make whatever it is that I choose to have, and this always varies.

Rack has not shown up yet to beg.  I've been in the refrigerator, the freezer, boiled water, poured cereal. He may have walked through, glanced up to see what I am doing, but it is more of a "Hi, I'm Here, I'm Doing My Job, I'll be back when you need me" thing.

Coffee is a ritual.  Boiling water hits 21 grams of espresso grind coffee beans.  If I roast them and they're not commercial coffee, it's always a Medium Light roast.  Three packets Sweet N Low, two and a half measured teaspoons of creamer.

Yes.  Two and a Half.  Not Three.

I have a 22 ounce French Press coffee mug, steep the grounds for five minutes.  I have added about 16 ounces of water, maybe less - it is a By Eye measurement.  Then I finish off the coffee.

Here is where I get Rack's attention.

Borrowed from Facebook
Open the freezer door.  I reach for the first ice cube and there is the chiming of the dog tags.  I get six cubes - five for me, one for Rack.

I try to be slick but we both know that won't work.

I start adding the cubes to the coffee to bring the temperature and levels to where I can just drink it and:

"Hi Rack, What do you want?"

Twin brown eyes staring intensely at my hands give away his desires.

I hand over the prize.  He gets his ice cube of the day.  Happy place for a dog to be.

As he walks away I say with a smile "Boy, you have a cushy life here!". 

He rounds the corner with a quick wag of the tail and goes back to crunching the cubes.

I swear this dog speaks English.