Orange is NOT My New Black

I know it has been a while since you have heard from me. I do apologize. But if you follow my blog, you would have known that I have been in the big house recently for murder.

They have finally released me on good behavior. I know to you humans, it has only been about two short weeks that I have been jailed, but in dog years, that equals about two years.

Thank goodness I am out. Orange just wasn’t my color, and that crap they were feeding me in there was literal dog food –  No, not the high end kibble I am used to. It was giving me some serious digestive problems, if you know what I mean. And for some of you that are kind of slow on grasping things, the food in there gave me the serious shits… Oh, yea, I also learned that word in there. No one says poop or even crap. No, in there you have to seem tough and bad to the bone, or you just won’t make it.

While I was in there, I also got some ink. Yea, my cell mate Butch knew a guy named Spike – a real artistic fellow. I’m not sure how he got the tools to give me the tattoo. I think he said something about keistering it in from the outside. Not sure what that means, but it seemed pretty sanitary, and Spike seemed like a gentle soul, so I let him go for it. He did have a tear drop tattoo coming down from his right eye. I figured that meant he was a softy, so him holding a needle to my body, really didn’t phase me.

Don’t worry, I did get something tasteful. I got the typical tough guy tattoo – you know the word “MOM” written in bold inside a heart. I did get a few spikes added around the heart. Needed to be a little bit manly so that no one would dare to mess with me in there. 1. Because they know I have a mom waiting on me back home and 2. Because they see those spikes and they know I mean business. Plus, the spikes were added for free. It is kind of Spike’s signature for every tattoo he does. How else do you think he got that nickname. Well, I also heard a rumor that he shanked people on the street with spikes, but I try not to think about people in here like that. Otherwise, you would probably never leave the cell due to fear.

I also took some classes in my spare time. I wanted to come out more educated. I took an Algebra I class just because I had nothing better to do on Mondays at 3 pm, and I also threw in a Spanish class on Wednesdays. I mean Spanish is a growing language in our country. Taco Bells are popping up everywhere these days, so I wanted to be able to go in there and order with confidence. It was also because I was obsessed with that new Spanish Justin Beiber song, and I wanted to know what the heck he was saying. Let’s just say, that song is kind of dirty. Definitely not something I am going to go home and share with my mother.

I also learned to play some serious hoops. Like the NBA has nothing on the basketball players that prison has. In fact, I think in order to be successful in the NBA, the players need to spend some time on the inside and learn how to actually play the game. I mean, Lebron James is okay, but he couldn’t even compete with the guy we call “Three Point Joe.”

And although I have evolved as a dog by being in prison, I am ready to be out in the real world again. I can’t wait to cuddle with my mom – I will probably wait  a little bit to show her the tattoo. Although, I might want to show her sooner than later, because I do have a weird, burning rash forming around it.

I also can’t wait to sink my teeth into some Fat Angelo’s pizza. Yea, I’ve been having dreams about it every night. I actually think that will be the first thing I request upon my arrival home.

Finally, I just can’t wait to finally chase some serious tail. I know I am a good looking canine, but once you get that “bad boy” image, you pretty much become irresistible to the opposite sex. Plus I can whisper a little Justin Beiber Spanish in their ears: Quiero desnudarte a besos despacito. Firmo en las paredes de tu laberinto.Y hacer de tu cuerpo todo un manuscrito (And that’s just a taste). If you want to know what that little line means, Google translate it, but do not tell my mom I am saying things like that. However, I know that will really get the ladies running in my direction.

So yea, you should be hearing more from me now since I am out of the big house. I am still on parole for another year, so I can’t kill any more birds or even try to attack any more cats until then, but I still can blog all I want.

I know you’ve all missed me. But I am back, and this time, I am not going anywhere!

 

 

The Adult Fruit Roll-Up

Facebook is great for advertising delicious looking sweets, that make you uncontent with life, until you go to Walmart and spend 20 plus dollars buying the ingredients and an hour preparing them, just to see if the taste is as good as the picture. 

Well Facebook has nailed me with this the last two weeks. First it was the Banana Bread Bottomed Cheesecake, and this week was an Angel Food, fruit and cream cheese roll up. Both were amazing, but I would have to say the Angel Food dessert stole the show. 

I decided it was appropriate to try for the Memorial Day holiday, only partially because of the patriotic color combination made with the blueberry and strawberry topping. I mostly decided to give it a go, because I know my dad is obsessed with blueberries and the rest of the family, well, we just like anything sweet. 

It was a true success! Well the taste of it anyway. The look, not-so-much. As you can see with the below expectation vs. reality picture I posted on Snapchat. 


Yea, it didn’t look as pretty as the Facebook picture, but I also don’t claim to be Betty Crocker. However, I knew it was a true success, when there was not even a crumb left in the pan, and Brandi kept sneaking bites from the rest of us. 

Anyway, I am here to share how to make this delicious dessert with all of you, since the Fourth of July is right around the corner. But honestly, don’t wait that long to try it out. Give it a trial run first, simply for your pleasure. 

The Adult Fruit Roll-Up 

Ingredients | •Box of Angel Food Cake Mix •8 oz cream cheese • 1.5 cups of heavy cream •1 teaspoon of vanilla extract •1.5 cups of strawberries •1.5 cups of blueberries •powdered sugar 

Preparation | •Prepare the Angel Food Cake Mix, following the directions on the box •Pour onto backing sheet on top of parchment/wax paper •Bake at 350 degrees for 20 minutes • Lay a clean dish towel flat on the counter and sprinkle powdered sugar on the towel, before placing the cake on top of the towel, and removing the wax paper from underneath •Roll the cake, along with the towel, up •Let cool at room temperature for two hours, or if you are too eager, place in freezer for a few minutes until the cake cools down •While that is cooling, prepare the cream cheese mix, by combining softened cream cheese, heavy cream, vanilla, and 3/4 cups of powdered sugar together until smooth •Remove cake from freezer and spread half of the cream cheese mixture on top of it. Also add strawberries and blueberries as well •Roll the cake back up, this time without the towel • After it is rolled up, spread the rest of the cream cheese on top and the remainder of the fruit as well •Finally, eat up, and try to share! 

Trust me, this will not disappoint. It is amazing! Just might not look as pretty as anticipated. But it doesn’t need to look pretty to get in your belly. As you can see, I didn’t have any issue downing the first piece even before taking it to the picnic. 

Making a Murderer : Canine Edition 

I’m serving 25 years to life.


(My mug shot didn’t turn out the best) 

After ten minutes of questioning, they found me guilty on two counts of second degree murder. Man, that sounds bad, but please hear me out. Yes, I killed, but it was all in self defense – it was all to protect my family.

The first came about a year ago. The intruder was in my back yard, lurking around. He was stalking me and my mother. He would not leave our yard, no matter how much I growled and barked.

I told Marlee to go in the house and lock all the doors and windows. I didn’t want this danger getting anywhere near my mom. I also didn’t want her to see what I was about to do. At that moment, I became the man of the house, and my job was to protect her.

A few minutes went by…

Marlee peeped out the upstairs window, and could not see me or the stalker. In a panic, she bolted down the stairs and whipped open the back door. And there I stood – the blood was on my paws. And the stalker, well let’s just say he wouldn’t be bothering us anymore.

Marlee could not believe what I had done. She looked around to make sure no one was looking, grabbed a shovel, and took care of the dead body. So I guess you could say, she was an accomplice to murder, but of course, I would never do that to her. When I was questioned, I said it was self defense and Marlee was taking a nap the whole time. That investigation remained ongoing until recently.

The second time happened earlier this week. I was in the back yard again, enjoying some sunshine. Marlee was in the house, doing some laundry and house cleaning. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw something perched on the chair, staring in the backdoor window. He was trying to break in.

I quietly stood up and tip-toed towards the porch, but as soon as I put one paw on the step, the intruder cocked his head in my direction. He tried to run – he thought he was going to get away with trying to break into my house.

Well that didn’t happen.

Marlee came outside ten minutes later, to bring me inside for dinner. She found me  standing overtop a dead body. He got what was coming to him, but of course Marlee panicked. She once again grabbed a shovel and hid the body for me. I guess you could say we are a modern day Norman and Norma Bates.

This time, the nosy neighbor watched it all go down. She called the police, and I was cuffed, questioned, paw printed, and locked away for that murder, and then soon after, for the other murder case that was still open.

It has been ruff, being on the inside. You only get one meal a day, and it’s Old Roy -YUCK! They are trying to poison us. You do not get any Bark-Boxes delivered once a month. The only toy you get to play with, is a cat stuffed animal that is missing its tail and one of its eyes, because every dog in the joint goes after it. Oh, and I’ve quickly learned to not drop my kibble in the shower, if you know what I mean. There are some un-fixed dogs in there, who like to thrust.

So yea, it has been pretty hard. I am trying to get out on good behavior. But honestly, I should never have been put in there to begin with, after all, those dang birds had it coming to them. Plus I’m a gentle soul. I only go after something if they are a threat to my mom. So yea, it’s pretty unfair.

Catch my story next month on Netflix, where you can hear all sides of the story, and see who you believe. Making a Murderer : The Canine Edition, coming to Netflix on June 24th. Tune in.

 

 

 

To my Mom on Mother’s Day

I remember crawling into your bed at just five years old. The thunder was cracking, the lightning was flashing, and I was scared. But as soon as I crawled into your arms, and you held me tight, the fear suddenly diminished. I felt safe next to you. This was even before the tornado came.

About two years passed, and suddenly we found ourselves huddled in the corner of our basement, under covers, praying for our lives. But just like you had done two years ago, you held on to us kids so tight. You refused to let anything happen to us. You made us feel safe. And even though it was scary and traumatizing, we made it through that night. We lost every material thing, but in the big scheme of things, that didn’t matter much. We still had each other, and that is all we needed.

The years after the tornado were tough on me. I had nightmares after nightmares. But when I had one of those nightmares, and I woke up in a panic, I knew where I could find my comfort. I would slide out of my bed, tip-toe across the house, and crawl in your bed next to you. You always knew why I was there. You would tell me it was okay, and you would hold me in your arms. And for the rest of the night, I would feel safe.

Then there were the times that I was sick. I am sure I would have recovered the same in my own bed, in my own room, but that wasn’t good enough for me. I wanted to be with you. You would make me hot tea, Vicks me up, tuck me under your covers, and there we would lay, watching Lifetime movies, until we both fell asleep. I was in your arms. I felt safe and the sickness suddenly disappeared.

There were also the heartbreaks. I know you remember each one vividly. They broke your heart almost as much as they broke mine. And I didn’t even need to ask you – you already knew. You told me to come over to  your room, and there I would stay, crying with you, talking to you, watching Lifetime movies with you, until we finally both fell asleep. I was in your arms. I felt safe, and the heartbreak suddenly started to disappear.

But it wasn’t just the scary, sick, or sad times that I would spend with you. There were nights, that I just wanted to be with my mom, the woman who raised me, loved me, and inspired me. So I would come over to your room, we would lay in the bed, eating popcorn and drinking Pepsi, watching Lifetime movies, until we would fall asleep. I was in your arms. I felt safe, and I felt unconditionally loved.

You have always been there to hold me when I needed you most. You first held me in your arms 25 years ago, as I took my first breath. In that moment, there was so much love, so much joy, and so much safety. I knew from that first minute on, that you would always be there to hold me, and you have never let me down.

Happy Mother’s Day, Mom – I love you.

 

To my Master’s Graduate 

You graduate tonight.

Oh, what an accomplishment that is.

You spent four years going for  your Bachelors in Education. You studied hard, stressed a lot, but succeeded of course. You tried finding joy in teaching. You tried finding happiness in that career for about a year, but you were unsatisfied. You knew you were made for greater things. Everyone around you knew you were made for greater things. God knew you were made for greater things.

After some thinking and a lot of praying, you decided to head back to school for yet another two years. You wanted your Masters in School Counseling. You wanted to help people.

God clearly showed you your path, and you took it, without hesitation.

I am so proud of you. Not only that, I look up to you. I may be a minute older, but you are so  much wiser. Not only that, you are beautiful from the inside out, which is something I always knew. Anyone who knew you or even just met you, could see that beauty shining through.

That beautiful soul is one reason you were made to help people. You listen to people, without judgment. You care about people, even when they try to make it impossible. You love all people, even if they aren’t like you.

Thinking about watching you walk across that stage tonight to get your second diploma, brings tears to my eyes. I can’t think of anyone more deserving of recognition. I couldn’t be more proud of my twin sister, my best friend, my soul mate. I love you more than I can even describe.

And it is just the beginning for you, because I know you are destined for great things. More importantly, God made you destined for great things.

“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” – Jeremiah 29:11

You have such a bright future, my beautiful sister. God gave you that hope, so that one day, you could give hope to others.

So as you walk across that stage tonight, hold your head high and smile the biggest smile you have ever smiled, because you have accomplished something great. When you hear all that applause, know that you deserve it. Everyone sitting around you tonight watching, can see that beauty shining so bright, just like the ones who love you the most have always seen.

Congratulations twin sister – I love you so much!

The Slobbery War of 2017

I’ve went to war the past couple of days. I’ve strapped on my uniform of thick black and white fur, my boots of white hair, and my weapons of razor sharp teeth and a bark that can deafen the enemy from two miles away. No, my bark is not worse than my bite – they are in fact equal, so I would not cross me. I’ve went to war to protect my rights of walking and I’ve went to war to defend my mother’s honor and to ensure her safety. I know, I am so heroic, but you can save the applause till the end of my ‘tail.’

The war was bad. The war was ugly. The war was slobbery and even bloody. I am drained physically, mentally, and emotionally, but that is nothing that a piece of cheese, a gulp of water, and a nice back rub won’t fix. I went to war because I had to.

Who was this war against, you ask. Well this war was against the pets that live on  Devan Avenue – The stray cats that sneak in to other peoples’ yards, without them knowing, and the dogs that run wild, never being tied back with a leash or blocked in with a fence. This is one war that your kids will read about in History class, about a decade from now, and they will learn that I was truly heroic.

So, let’s take it back to two days ago, when this war began. Marlee and me were taking our nightly walk – same route, same scenery. I had always noticed this stray cat. It was always crouched down, eyeing us up in the wrong way. It had a smell of garbage, a glare of hostility, and a tail of terror. This cat’s tail looked as if it had been struck by lightening. Maybe it was that way because this cat had been to war before. I figured that had to be it, and that this feline should not be and could not be trusted.

I had let the cat do its thing for about two weeks, but this day, I had had enough. He was not going to look at me or my mom in anger any longer. This world needed less hatred, and I was going to do anything I needed to, to make this world a safer and more loving place. I know what you’re thinking – that is honorable.

The cat was in someone’s yard – a yard that it did not belong to. So when my mom got distracted with a lady walking past her saying “hello,” I took the plunge. I went full force after the cat. The fangs were out, the slobber was flying, and the claws were raging. I got a few swats and maybe even a few nips in, but the cat was an equal competitor. He took his paw of knives, and drug it across my face. I was left with scratches, cuts, and blood. The cat was still alive, but trust me, this story would have ended differently, if my mom didn’t rip me away from the enemy.

You might think I lost that battle, but I can ensure you, that I didn’t . The next day, I walked right past that cat with my head held high in the air, and the cat, well he cowered down in fear and went the opposite direction. He would not bother me or my mom anymore, and he would think twice before judging others with his glare of hostility. I taught that cat a lesson. Yes, I got a few bumps and bruises out of it, but what true war hero doesn’t.

So that takes us to the next day, when two enemies of the canine variety attacked. Marlee and me were walking on the road, trying to avoid confrontation. I guess you could say, I was trying to wave the white flag of surrender. However, these dogs wouldn’t allow it.

Without being tied down or fenced in, and without being watched by the owner, the first dog ran on to the road at us. At first it started harmlessly sniffing me, but it soon turned to rage. It lunged at me with his teeth snarling. He swatted at me with his paw. I had no choice but to defend myself. We both ended up on our hind legs, in a fist fight. He pushed me over on to my back, but I jumped right back up. I would have gotten a flip in myself, if the owner of the other dog didn’t finally control his canine and drag him away from Marlee and me, apologizing to us in the process.

It wasn’t even five steps later, that another dog, a German Shepherd, came running at Marlee full force, with his fangs out and growling uncontrollably. Marlee was terrified. She thought she was about to be attacked. She stood completely still on the road, paralyzed by fear. She pulled me close and told me to sit down. I obeyed, but I knew if that dog came any closer to Marlee, that I would have to defend her. It was my job to keep her safe. All I could do in that moment was growl back and show the dog my teeth. I wanted him to know that I would do anything to protect myself and my mom.

Marlee started screaming. She yelled, “Please someone get this dog. It’s going to attack me!” The dog’s owner finally came out of the house and grabbed the dog, once again apologizing. However, it was too late. Marlee was not physically harmed, but she was scared, and that was not okay with me.

We walked back to the house, and she started crying. Not only was she shaken up because of what had almost happened, but she felt like everything that had happened the past two days were her fault.

I licked her face, to ensure her, it was not her. She was the best owner a dog could want.

We took away three lessons from these events. 1) Always make sure your dog is leashed, fenced in, or controlled. If they are not, they could run out and attack an innocent dog or human just trying to harmlessly take a walk. Leash laws in Pennsylvania are there for a reason. 2) If a dog runs out at you, try and stay calm. I know it is difficult, but it will help to calm the situation down. 3) We obviously need to find another walking route. It’s unfortunate, but has to be done. I don’t want myself or my mom getting hurt by another animal, and when I feel threatened and want to protect Marlee, I am too big and too strong for her to pull back easily.

So yea, it has been an eventful two days.

I went to war. I got bloody. I got hurt, but I also protected my mom. After all, that is my job, and I would go to war with any animal to ensure her safety.

Now, you may cue the applause.

 

 

He Didn’t Need His Eyes to Love Me. 

My owner could not see me, but he could feel me. 

He could feel me pull him forward when the pedestrian walk light turned on to cross the street. He could feel me pull him left, to head over to his favorite coffee shop for his morning bagel and latte. He could feel me pull him right, when it was time to go back home. 

I was my master’s eyes. He relied on me to keep him safe. To direct his way. To make sure he got from place to place on time and unharmed. It was a tough job, but I was glad to do it.

However, I wasn’t only there for guidance, I was there to comfort. I was there to show him love and dedication also. 

So once again I say : my owner could not see me, but he could feel me. 

He could feel my soft fur run under his palms and fingertips as he stroked me from the bed, as he prepared to end his day. He could feel my tender licks, as I kissed his cheek or hand to let him know I was around if he needed me. He could feel my wagging tail to ensure him that I was content being with him and happy to help him. 

After all, I wasn’t just there for guidance, although that was my main job. I was there to be his companion – to be his friend. I was there for him to rely on. I was there to show him love. 

To me, there was nothing different about my master. No, he could not see me with his eyes, but he could touch me with his hands. He could kiss me with his lips. He could sooth me with his voice. He could see me with his soul. He didn’t need his eyes to love me. 

I wasn’t just there to guide him. I was there to show him unconditional love, and in return, I got unconditional love back. 

Today is National Guide Dog Day. Isn’t it amazing that a canine is someone that can guide a blind person through every turn of their life. They are truly spectacular creatures. 

Happy National Guide Dog Day! Your jobs are tough, but you are appreciated and loved.