A Soldier Comes Home

I borrowed this link from a thread on www.absolutewrite.com


The right hand side is cut off, so if you want to see a full screen display, try this link.

Cowboy Rules

This came via e-mail, so you might have seen it, but it's too good not to pass along.

Cowboy rules for: Arizona, Texas, Oklahoma, Colorado, New Mexico, Wyoming, Montana, The Dakotas, Utah, Idaho and the rest of the Wild West are as follows:

1. Pull your pants up. You look like an idiot.

2. Turn your cap right, your head ain't crooked.

3. Let's get this straight: it's called a 'gravel road.'
I drive a pickup truck because I want to.
No matter how slow you drive, you're gonna get dust on your Lexus. Drive it or get out of the way.

4. They are cattle. That's why they smell like cattle.
They smell like money to us. Get over it. Don't like it? I-10 & I-40 go east and west,
I-17 & I-15 goes north and south.
Pick one and go.

5. So you have a $60,000 car. We're impressed.
We have $250,000 Combines that are driven only 3 weeks a year.

6. Every person in the Wild West waves.
It's called being friendly. Try to understand the concept.

7. If that cell phone rings while a bunch of geese/pheasants/ducks/doves are comin' in during a hunt,
we WILL shoot it outta your hand.
You better hope you don't have it up to your ear at the time.

8. Yeah. We eat trout, salmon, deer and elk.
You really want sushi and caviar?
It's available at the corner bait shop.

9. The 'Opener' refers to the first day of deer season.
It's a religious holiday held the closest Saturday to
the first of November.

10. We open doors for women. That's applied to all women, regardless of age.

11. No, there's no 'vegetarian special' on the menu.
Order steak, or you can order the Chef's Salad and pick off
the 2 pounds of ham and turkey.

12. When we fill out a table, there are three main dishes:
meats, vegetables, and breads.
We use three spices: salt, pepper, and ketchup!
Oh, yeah ... We don't care what you folks in Cincinnati
call that stuff you eat ... IT AIN'T REAL CHILI!!

13. You bring 'Coke' into my house, it better be brown, wet and served over ice.
You bring 'Mary Jane' into my house, she better be cute,
know how to shoot, drive a truck, and have long hair.

14. College and High School Football is as important here as the Giants, the Yankees, the Mets, the Lakers and the Knicks, and a dang site more fun to watch.

15. Yeah, we have golf courses.
But don't hit the water hazards - it spooks the fish.

16. Turn down that blasted car stereo!
That thumpity-thump crap ain't music, anyway.
We don't want to hear it anymore than we want to see your boxers! Refer back to #1!

A true Westerner will send this to at least 10 others and a few new friends that probably won't get it, but we're friendly so we share in hopes you can begin to understand what a real life is all about!!!

Pop's Cafe Gets a VIP Visitor

A few weeks ago, one of our coffee drinking regulars called Rep. Louie Gohmert’s office regarding some political issue, and then asked if the Congressman would consider joining us for morning coffee to discuss what was going on in Washington. Since our group usually consists of less than a dozen people, we didn’t expect that he would waste time with us, but to our surprise, he said he would be glad to attend as soon as he could fit it into his schedule. Last Monday morning was the day.

He arrived about 9AM, with a young aide-de-camp in tow, and stayed for an hour and a half. He related the stories behind the stories regarding the bank bailouts, the stimulus, healthcare reform, and problems within the Republican Party. Then he fielded a bunch of questions.

We were really impressed that he didn’t dodge a single question. He was forthright about everything and said if people didn’t agree with him, they could vote him out, but that he was going to support the Constitution and not the party, the polls, or the President, when they were wrong. He shared e-mails that he had sent and received from President Bush, the cabinet and White House staff, and in them he didn’t pull any punches. They were strong, eloquent letters reminiscent of those written by John Adams and Thomas Jefferson. He told Bush that Ben Bernanke and Sec. Paulson were dead wrong and that Bush was getting bad advice, and should not go along with the bailouts.

He was very critical of Republican leadership in both houses of Congress and suggested the party needs to clean house. He was not a fan of McCain, and didn’t volunteer any enthusiasm for any of the potential presidential candidates on the horizon today. He also failed to express enthusiasm for our two wishy-washy Texas senators who succumbed to pressure to vote for the bailouts.

It’s wonderfully refreshing to be represented by an unabashed Conservative, who fights the political battles with a copy of the Constitution in hand instead of a Bible, and who isn’t afraid to challenge his own president or the party.

He’s been interviewed on dozens of radio talk shows and has been a guest of Lou Dobbs and Neil Cavuto. Right now, he’s in the process of gathering data for a national health insurance plan that will not be a government program. His plan is getting support from people like Newt Gingrich, so it should be in bill form before too long.

Too bad he isn’t a handsome, charismatic man, since that seems to be what it takes to succeed on the national scene. He just looks like the rest of us coffee drinkers, but his brilliance flows when he begins to speak, and he certainly has the guts and the desire to return America to the greatness it once had.

Requiem

Thanks to everyone for the comforting words about Sassy. She's probably at the Rainbow Bridge by this time, doing her best to convince all the other dogs that the boss has arrived. As usual, they’ll probably let her think that, but laugh behind her back.

It's nice to know that others find the little critters we share our lives with so precious, and Howard, that poem was very touching...thanks for sharing it. Maggie must have been very special to have inspired it.

We’ll pick up Sassy's ashes tomorrow, so she can come home to join Dakota and China, her Shar Pei best-buddies that left us before she did.

Lighter Fare

Time to lighten up the subject matter. Here's one of the most popular You Tube videos going today.


And this is a picture of Sassy when the groomer, unwilling to comb out tangles, shaved her in the middle of winter. The groomer told us that she would need to cut her short, but we never expected to see this.

Sassy was terribly embarrassed that her beautiful long hair was gone, and she didn't like the sweater, but at least it kept her warm. We changed groomers.

Sassy

Sassy, our little 15-year-old Maltese, died July 2, 2009 in Lindale, TX.

Sassy was born Aug 23, 1993, to Terry’s Lucky Toby and Karl’s Chinese Lotus, in Auxvasse Mo. Yes, she had a pedigree, but she was never registered. She wasn’t a show dog and was never intended to be. She was just a little white dog that weighed only five pounds, but thought she was a hundred-pound Rottweiler.

Sassy had no fear. If she heard a noise that needed investigating, she would launch off the bed at a full run and travel ten feet before she touched the floor. If one of the big dogs accidentally hurt her in play, she’d latch onto their muzzle and growl like a banshee while they swung her around trying to shake her loose. When you carried her, you had to hold tight, because she would jump out of your arms if something looked interesting, or if you were too slow putting her down. If a strange dog headed her way, you had to grab her before she instigated a fight…no matter how big the other dog might be.

When Sassy was young, she had a terrible housebreaking problem. She knew she was supposed to go outside, but she would find a place to hide so she wouldn’t have to be bothered with going outside. Judy tried to change Sassy’s toilet practices, but that little dog would just look her in the eye and dare Judy to mete out punishment. I finally began taking her outside several times a day, and during the night I’d wake her up to take her outside, no matter if it was raining, snowing, or stifling hot. The little monster would growl at me and try to get back in the house, but I made her stay outside until she did her job. After a few weeks of that, she began to accept the fact that no amount of stubbornness would allow her to have her way, and her toilet habits improved tremendously. It must have been her instinct to defer to the wishes of the alpha male, because about that time, to Judy’s dismay, Sassy decided that she would become my dog.

Every place I went, she’d be right behind, and if I stopped, she’d stay close by. If I was on the computer, she would sleep on a little pillow next to my feet. If I was sitting in a chair watching TV, she’d hop up beside me and sleep next to me. Even as she got older, she’d do her best to keep track of where I was during the day, and during the night she slept on a pillow next to the bed.

Men are supposed to have big dogs…hunting dogs, or herding dogs, not little fluffy dogs with fancy haircuts and ribbons in their hair, but Sassy didn’t know that, and I didn’t have the heart to tell her. I’m sure people thought I was a strange duck, driving down the street with a freshly groomed little Maltese sitting on my lap, head hanging out the window, with her ribbons blowing in the wind.

The past couple of years haven’t been good for her. She began to go blind soon after we moved here in 2007, and it progressed very quickly. Her hearing also began to go, and at the last, she was nearly deaf. Only a yell or a very loud noise could get her attention. Only her nose still worked, and she’d find her way around the house and yard, sometimes bumping into things, but never giving up.

Despite her ailments, she’d still go outside and stand by the fence waiting for me to come home. She’d sometimes stand there for hours, and when I got home, the first thing I’d see is her little nose poking through a gap in the fence. Then she’d follow her nose through the doggy door and hurry to greet me when I came in. She couldn’t see me, or hear me, but she could still smell.

A couple of months ago, right after she finished eating, she shrieked in pain and several minutes went by before the pain eased. These episodes occurred every few days, until recently they happened nearly every day. In the middle of last Wednesday night, she again screamed and I had to hold her for several minutes before she began to relax. Then on Thursday, she was walking down the hall when she suddenly had a seizure and fell backwards on the floor, losing all body control. The time had come. That Rottweiler heart was too strong for her little Maltese body and it was allowing her to suffer too much. We called the mobile vet, who came out that evening. Sassy went to sleep in Judy’s arms. The house is so empty without her.

Common Sense

I used my Father's day Amazon gift certificate to buy a copy of Glenn Beck's Common Sense, and it came today. I was pleased to see Thomas Paine's 1776 version included in the back of Beck's book, so you can compare the two works for style and content.

I think I'll spend Independence day comparing Paine's account of British tyranny with that of today, as recounted by Glenn Beck. After attending the tea party in the morning, I should be fired up to read the book.