Thursday, January 19, 2006
A few random pictures from our last trip. The top picture is Captain Fatbob, the Black Pug of Doom. Also known as Bentley, we don't go very many places without him. He is the prince of Linda Lou's heart and the owner of anything edible within about five hundred meters or so. It is amazing how he chases George off the food. I am told that there is a doggie psychology reason for this. A big dog sees a critter Captain Fatbob's size and thinks "puppy" but then the little dog does not act like a puppy. Dogs, being only marginally smarter than Teddy Kennedy or Algore, can not make that work in their little doggie brains, this enables most little dogs to get away with actions that would cause a fight to the death among two dogs of equal size. Kind of like why it is illegal to shoot Dems. Damn shame.
The next picture down is a crowd of the usual suspects out off Bloody Basin Road north of Phoenix. Our oldest boy, Andy, and our oldest grandson are in that crowd, as well as myself and Andy's bro-in-law and a pal. Then the batteries in the camera died as I got everyone lined up and shooting real black powder rounds. Another shame. Someday I shall get a picture both revolvers, the shotgun and the .45 Colt rifle all shooting at once, the smoke and flame out of those old time rounds is impressive.
The next two shots down are of the grandkids in San Antonio. They both love Captain Fatbob. He is not quite sure about that stick horse, yet. The boy is MJ, the girl is Alexandra. Dunno how many granddaughters we are going to have, the family history seems to long long on boys and short on cash. Like seven grandkids and only one girl.
Update, 1/21/06: I was going to finish this yesterday, a good pal of mine has had some kind of heart event and instead was kind of busy. We are not real sure if it was an actual heart attack or just something scary like a muscle cramp of some sort of the muscles around the area, he did not have the sense to go to the ER, instead he now is sitting at home waiting for a stress test. Another guy in his fifties, thinking he is still twenty years old. I need a large stick. And a twenty year old to swing it.