As interpreted by a dog who ate a frog, last night.  Welcome to Facebark, and the fine print, by Jack.

Jack Disclaimer:
Any resemblance to persons living or dead should be plainly apparent  and those who know them, especially if  I have been kind enough to provide their real names, dates of birth, two photo ID’s, credit card data, and, in some cases, cell phone numbers.  All events described herein actually happened, or may have happened, though on occasion certain, very small, liberties with chronology have been exercised, because that is my right as a dog.

The countdown to the most significant Airstream rally, Alumapalooza III, is underway, and the highly anticipated Yappy Hour on Tues., 29May2012.  As co-host to the Man-In-The-Maze entourage, for three years running, I have provided courtesy parking adjacent to my dog run in the quiet days prior to the main event.

No purchase required

After the ‘frog’ incident, frothing at the mouth from the distasteful critter, multiple bouts of hurling, and eating copious amounts of grass, I awoke refreshed this morning.  This was my highest stress level since I met a skunk head-on at the cabin.

L-R, Man-in-the-Maze (aka Rich), me, Daughter-in-the-Maze (aka Emma)

This morning attention is turned to the corn crib, where a stupid raccoon (IQ test score~ 27 or less) once again fell for the peanut butter in a dish trick.  They are not only dumb, they have the personal hygiene quotient of an interstate toilet sewage back-up.  Sooooo, Emma and I head for the Izaak Walton league  to ‘relocate’ the stinky varmint.

L-R

The soon to be released defendant, and parole officer, Emma

The morning concludes.  I gaze outward and contemplate the day ahead and the years that surround me.

Below:

• Silver Maple  c. 1855
• The barn….1881
• Neal……1919
• Amish porch furniture..1995
• Safari bunkhouse….2005
• MB GLK Van….2008

That’s it for today, tempus fugit, and my final thought before embarking on an exciting week.

Ribbit, ribbit.