I’m going to let you in on a little secret about me. Actually, I’m going to reveal two, but only because both secrets are germane to the tale. The first secret isn’t very scandalous, and it’s probably not much of a secret either, but I’ve been bearing the burden of this boring secret for too long, and so the truth must be revealed. You see, I like bran muffins.

Shameful, I know.

Being the quirky, pain-in-the-ass, control freak that I am, I will not settle for just any bran muffins. The bran muffins I demand are made by our local supermarket chain, ShopRite. I should also mention that of all the ShopRites I’ve ever visited, only one makes bran muffins the way I like them. Did I mention that I’m a quirky control-freak who is also a pain-in-the-ass? Check with my wife. She will confirm every last bit of that last compound-adjective-laden sentence. read more »

As you may know, Fridays evenings are sacrosanct in our house, because that’s when we have Pizza and Movie Night™. If you’ve read my previous tales, then you may already be smirking. For those of you who haven’t committed all my previous tales to memory, I’ll just say that the last time I wrote about Pizza and Movie Night™, the story did not end well. Shocking, I know.

Sure, you may have laughed at my misfortune in the past, and I’m sure many of you have sided with the beast, but this time… oh this time I had her dead to rights. This time I knew that I had her outsmarted, and naturally, that’s why it all went wrong. read more »

My daughter, Colleen, got a tent for Christmas. I have no idea what a 10-year old needs with a tent, but who am I to argue with Santa?

After receiving her tent, Colleen waited patiently for summer. Actually, I may have misused the word “patiently” in that sentence. I’ll let you be the judge. Here’s how I would describe the six months between Christmas and the events in this story: read more »

Every year hundreds of giant breed dogs are put up for adoption or worse, destroyed because someone fell in love with the fluffy little puppy and brought it home, only to be overwhelmed by slobber, food, vet bills, and the sheer size of their full grown dog. If you cannot make a commitment to this (or any) animal to keep it forever, then please don’t get one. Would you give up a son or daughter because they got too big? Certainly not. Anyone who thinks a Newfoundland is any less than a child doesn’t understand the breed. read more »

If Guinness has one fault, it’s that he can be a bit protective of his food. We’ve gone to great lengths to make him understand his place in the pack, so he has no problems with humans. The kids routinely feed him and put things in his bowl while he’s eating. They’ve taken thing from his bowl too, though they both know better. At least I thought they did. Some days I’m amazed my kids can remember to breathe on their own, but this is a story about dogs, so I’ll spare them further reflection on their continued absent-mindedness. read more »