The Acorn and the Anvil — by Coal

Sep 4, 2015

Thank you for calling me Handsome Coal Dog. I have been working on ways to become more handsome for all the nice people. There is this lovely pile of rotten seaweed in Southport I’ve been trying to work into my back and belly areas. And I just love the chance to work that warm, moisturizing, stinky swamp mudpack into every single pore of my body. I hope you all appreciate it!

Oh! And if you need to hold your nose to give me a head rub or a little treat, I don’t mind. I’m just glad that I’m making a difference! (Editor’s Note: There’s Hand Sanitizer at the register. Please ask for it.)

And Don says that with all the humid, rainy weather lately, I can REALLY get my stink to linger in that small wooden shop. My big fuzziness never dries, so it soaks into the wooden boards. Don says that eventually we’ll need to get a hazardous materials squad in here to get out “That Old Dog Smell.” I’m sure he’s joking. But you can never tell with Don. He’s a little odd.

And I would also like to thank the nice people for all the birthday wishes! AND the scrumptious birthday treats. AND all the ear rubs that made me groan with pleasure! Those are the BEST! Well, maybe not the BEST. The BEST is reserved for the luscious canned dog food all us 4 Good Boys get on one of our birthdays. This year for mine we got something pretty coyote-ish like duck or rabbit or something. Whatever it was, it wasn’t my same-old Senior Cupful. It was Dee-Lish-Ous!

If you’ve seen my Birthday Video – you’ll know that I had a little trouble getting into my birthday cake. I wasn’t sure if I should bite it or not. It was so pretty! And Don was singing way off-key trying to get me to howl. That threw me off a little bit. I just licked the cardboard the cake came in and that was great! I didn’t howl though. I don’t think Don should try to get the nice people to get me to howl on my birthday. I wouldn’t try to get people to laugh at Don on his birthday. And don’t worry! I got plenty of cake after the video ends!

Also, Don will swim with all us dogs (Editors Note: And a bunch of other neighborhood dogs and kids) on the hot days. Sometimes we’ll stay at the beach for hours and hours. Those are the best days. Sometimes Don will even try to fetch a ball that a kid has thrown from the beach. It’s really funny watching him try to swim faster than the dogs. He always loses! I feel sorry for him because he hasn’t fetched a single ball yet! You should be on the beach THROWING the ball Don! You’re really good at that, and you should stick to it. Let us dogs fetch the balls. That’s what we’re really good at!

Maybe Don is upset that I’ve been fetching more balls than him lately and that’s why he threw a rock at my head the other day. It doesn’t sound like something Don would do, but I was peacefully walking down the trail when all of a sudden this sharp pain happened to the top of my head. It really hurt! I turned around and Don was laughing pretty hard. He was bent over laughing, actually. I gave him my most disapproving look and continued on my way. I don’t even know why he would throw a rock at my head – Auggie fetched way more balls than me at the beach. (Editor’s Note: Coal was walking through the woods and an acorn dropped from a tree and hit him squarely on his anvil-like head. Purely by chance! It made a hollow “THWONK” sound because he was panting and his mouth was open. The look Coal shot me was so reproachful and contemptuous – I had no idea he could look at me or anyone that way! I couldn’t help laughing at the poor guy. It was the funniest thing I’ve seen all summer!)

And I hope all you nice people stay tuned for the October Salty Paws and Blog. Don usually likes for me to warn the nice people about zombies. Stinking, Rotten, STUPID zombies!!!!!!!!! I hate them! I hate them SOOOO much!!!!! But don’t worry. If you “stay tuned” as Don says, I will help you nice people to spot zombies so they don’t eat your brain and make you forget when breakfast is.

I am Coal and I love you. I will always love you.

~Handsome Coal Dog.

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