Helloooo Newman: Is That Dog Porn?

Helloooo Newman: Is That Dog Porn?: I carelessly left some laundry on the floor. I didn't really notice it there. Newman did. I found him quietly lying on the floor and...

Is That Dog Porn?

I carelessly left some laundry on the floor. I didn't really notice it there.

Newman did.

I found him quietly lying on that floor and looking very satisfied.

Not surprising. He grabbed a pair of nylons (not mine), wrapped his rawhide bone in them and was happily licking and chewing away.

Nylons with a bone it them. That's my Newman.

Guess I don't always realize what an influence I am on his behaviour.

Helloooo Newman: It's Good to be Smarter than Newman

Helloooo Newman: It's Good to be Smarter than Newman: Overall, Newman is a fairly well-adjusted canine. Of course, the environment he is being raised in will change that, but for now he's ...

It's Good to be Smarter than Newman

Overall, Newman is a fairly well-adjusted canine.

Of course, the environment he is being raised in will change that, but for now he's doing pretty well.

He's free of annoying habits, save for one.

In the morning, while I'm desperately filling my body with caffeine and Newman is waiting for his play time on the driveway, he will fetch some toilet paper or kleenex from the bathroom garbage (or anything chewable, really), and slowly munch it to pieces on the rug.

He is very careful to make sure he covers as much of the rug as possible.

Ha. Clever dog – but I am smarter.

To prevent Newman from doing this, I have a strategy.

I take kleenex from the garbage myself. I chew it in my mouth. I spread it all over the rug.

Presto, chango behaviour. He looks at the kleenex and figures he's already done his duty.

Pretty smart human, eh?

What a dumb dog!

Helloooo Newman: Stare-Way to Hell

Helloooo Newman: Stare-Way to Hell: What is the most powerful weapon in the arsenal of the modern, domesticated dog? You might say the teeth. Dog's teeth can be very effi...

Stare-Way to Hell

What is the most powerful weapon in the arsenal of the modern, domesticated dog?

You might say the teeth. Dog's teeth can be very efficient weapons when used properly. The average dog can bite down on your flesh at a pressure of two thousand pounds per square inch. Prepare for great pain.

But the smart dog will not use this weapon against his owner. The dog knows he's screwed if he does this. Having his balls cut off will be the least of his worries.

I believe I've made it clear to Newman that if he ever full-on bit me out of anger I would promptly grab some pliers and remove his teeth one-by-one without anaesthetic. Just to make it fun, I would keep asking, "Is it safe?", borrowing from a classic scene in the movie The Marathon Man.

This goes for biting other people as well. Unless, of course, if I've instructed him that a particular person needs a good biting.

The claws are another handy weapon. Two things about this. I don't think dogs realize they can use their claws as a weapon. Cats certainly do. But Newman has never thought, I'm pissed right now and I'm gonna claw the shit out of something.

Newman never really uses his claws, except for the odd time when he seems to think that someone has buried a prime rib roast in the backyard and he digs a hole large enough to hold our car.

Secondly, as with the teeth, if Newman intentionally scratched me, he would get the last "peticure" he will ever need.

So what is Newman's most powerful weapon?

The Stare. That penetrating, unforgiving, soul-destroying STARE. My Stare-Way to Hell.

If I am slightly late in giving Newman his daily walk, he will do one thing and one thing only – stare at me. And stare. And stare. And stare. Has the sun burned out yet? Well, he will still be staring. Is the universe at maximum entropy? Newman is still staring.

The stare – so menacing precisely because it is so benign. Almost passive.

If only he would stare and make faces at me, or show some incisors once in a while. Perhaps flip me the paw. Then I could get mad at him.

I can't get mad at him for simply staring. I could scream "stop staring at me" directly in his ear with a bull horn and he would keep staring, wondering if this is the moment we are going for a walk.

No, the stare doesn't chew my flesh. It tears at my willpower. It destroys any sense of independence that I have as a person. Well, I guess marriage does that too.

The worst occurs when he stares at me with the ball resting in his mouth. He will hold onto that ball until all the saliva drains out of his mouth and onto the floor.

Imagine you're being interrogated by the most vile nazi general in Germany. Doesn't even approach the power of Newman's stare.

Cute face. Evil stare. A deadly combination.

Helloooo Newman: What Constitutes a Healthy Marriage?

Helloooo Newman: What Constitutes a Healthy Marriage?: Men and women have been asking this question since before marriage was an institution. I have been married for countless years (meaning I&...

What Constitutes a Healthy Marriage?

Men and women have been asking this question since before marriage was an institution.

I have been married for countless years (meaning I've lost count) and so, naturally, I'm an expert on the topic.

I also have no idea what the answer is.

Perhaps the problem lies in the terms we use. The use of the word "healthy" in this context presents some problems.

The word "healthy" is great to use for things like blood pressure, or erectile dysfunction.

We assign numbers to blood pressure - 120 over 80 - and that unequivocally constitutes healthy blood pressure. Higher numbers mean higher blood pressure. The numbers are what they are.

Erectile dysfunction is even easier to diagnose, and you don't have to be an expert to figure it out.

You log onto assofmine.com, wait a couple of seconds and check for two conditions: hard or soft.

Keep in mind I'm not an expert on erectile dysfunction. Only recently, through the extensive research I do for this blog, did I find out that you can get porn on the internet.

If only a healthy marriage were this easy to diagnose. But the situation isn't completely hopeless.

Perhaps one way to tell if you have a healthy marriage is by the kinds of day-to-day issues you have to struggle with.

Are they earth-shattering problems that will tear the family apart? Or are they on the more mundane side of life?

Here's an example. Yesterday my wife challenged me with this question: "Did you change the ring tone on your iPhone? Or the text notification sound?"

I immediately felt like Newman, having done something wrong with not a clue as to what is was.

My ears dropped. "Not that I remember", I said in a profoundly weak, verging on guilty, voice.

"Well", she explained, "you have to change your ring tone because it's the same as mine and I'm running around the house answering your messages".

Does this remind you of Pavlov's dog, like it did for me? We all run around at the ping sound on our phones.

When I first set up my iPhone I happened to be eating onion rings from The Burger Shack. Now every time I hear the ping, I crave onion rings. This is not good. I will not be getting into that two piece bathing suite in July.

The good news is that dealing with issues like my iPhone ping is really quite easy.

That's what makes it a wonderful marriage. Well, at least until my wife reads this blog.