Family - The Ties That Bind...And Gag! Read Online Free PDF Page A

said.
    And trust we have. During the last few years I've seen the selection of dog food grow from a couple of bags of nuggets by the grass seed near the door to an entire aisle of options. On blind faith, I've lugged in cheese and beef pellets, dry food that turns sensuous in its own gravy, jerky snacks, liver-flavored cookies, bones that whiten dogs' teeth, and cans of gourmet dog food to combat boredom.
    “Let me ask you a question,” said my husband. “Has this dog ever gotten excited about any dog products touted on TV?”
    “You know the only time he reacts to anything on TV is when lie goes to bed during PBS pledge week.”
    “He doesn't care,” said my husband. “For all we know, he's probably a vegetarian and doesn't know how to tell us. We could throw him a raw potato every day and he'd be happy as a clam.” He tilted the bottle of beef-flavored drink, took a sip, and winced.
    “What did you expect, gusto?”
    He looked at the dog and whispered, “Stick to the toilet.”
    Despite all the demands pets put on you, in the pecking order of a family, they are right near the top. I have to admit I have had a better rapport with Harry than any other member of the family.
    There is a reason for this.
    You can call a dog and when he comes running to your side, you can say, “I don't want anything. I just wanted to know where you are.” Try this with a kid and he'll break your knees.
    A dog will sit with you through the worst television show in the history of video, and if you like it, never once will he try to change the channel and get something better.
    He never entertains friends, forcing you to retire to your bedroom like a felon serving time.
    He never lies to you and never gets upset if you don't remember his birthday.
    Any relationship is strengthened by a friend who can keep a secret. You tell a dog you don't know what you'll do if you can't come up with the interest on your charge card before the 15th and he'll keep it to himself.
    There was a story of a man in Wisconsin who said his wife and his dog did not get along. One of them had to go, so he put an ad in the paper that read, “WIFE OR DOG MUST GO. WIFE IS GOOD-LOOKING BLONDE, BUT IMPATIENT. DOG IS GERMAN SHORTHAIR, 2 1/2 YEARS OLD, SPAYED FEMALE. YOUR CHOICE, FREE.”
    He received more than twenty calls from people interested in the dog. One caller said he had a short brunette and an English setter and wanted to know if they could swap.
    My husband loved that story. He said it made sense. “After all, a dog could give him all the tender loving care his wife could. He could fetch his slippers and newspapers, never hang on the phone all day long or leave dirty dishes soaking in the sink, and would keep his feet warm at night.”
    I said, “If you feel that way, how come you didn't many a dog?”
    My husband is too smart ... too old ... and too well fed to even think of touching that line.
     
    THE GOSPEL OF
    THE UTILITIES ...
    ACCORDING TO
    DAD
    From the kitchen, the voice was barely audible.
    “It's coining from the living room,” said one son.
    We all froze like a tableau.
    “Well, excuse me. I didn't realize there was someone still in this room. Silly me. I was ready to turn the lights out. Here, let me turn on a few more lights,” the voice continued. “I can afford it. I'm independently wealthy, you know.”
    I smiled knowingly. “It's your father ... the 'Prince of Darkness' ... making a point,” I said.
    “Don't tell me,” said my son, “let me guess. Dad is standing in an empty living room talking to himself to let us know we didn't turn the lights off again when we left the room.”
    The other son shook his head. “Some things never change.”
    The speech was a staple. For thirty years Dad had dedicated his life to flipping off lights in rooms with no one in them, turning off water spigots in the bathroom, and throwing his body over the meter in an effort to stop the dials from spinning.
    His sermons on saving money and energy