The Good, The Bad and a Whole Lot of Ugly

Well, we attended the annual Karl Invitational Croquet and Lawn Golf Tournament in Waubun, MN, last weekend... and it wasn't pretty. Some would call it "ugly" (see photo of Stew smooching his Miller High Life). Momma and Stew came home without any hardware. None. Zippo. Not only was Stew unsuccessful in his attempt to defend his Lawn Golf Champion title (he tied for 3rd this year), but neither he nor Momma were able to win the croquet or disc golf tournaments. Stew claims his play dropped to match the skill level of his opponents, but I say that's the sour grapes talkin'. He was simply out played in all the competitions. Myself, well, I had a blast despite the temperature being 142 degrees the entire weekend! And luckily, I avoided some time in the county lock-up on our final night after The Southside Erickson Boyz and I put a scare into a local who dared walk too close to the croquet course. The two Dachsund, Theo and Tucker, were apparently hiding out in a nearby tent and avoided the altercation. We got off with just a phone call from the sheriff. I'm not sure of his name, so I'm just posting a photo of Sheriff Andy Taylor since I'm sure the Mahnomen County Sheriff is equally as nice as Andy. But, I was a bit concerned since all three of us dogs have a criminal record. Our paw prints are on file in a national database, plus I have some sort of computer chip implanted between my shoulder blades. So, Big Brother is watching me. I just hope we didn't get the Karls in hot water with the local authorities. They are way too nice to be put into such a predicament. Us dogs just need to learn to let you people fend for yourselves if/when an intruder approaches the perimeter of your property.

We arrived in Waubun sometime around 6:30pm Friday evening. And as is tradition, Stew unloaded our tent and carried it to an open area on the Karl's lawn. And by "our tent" I mean "Aunt Dee's tent". He then grabbed a beer from the cooler, placed it inside a beer can coozy, cracked it open and took a sip. And by "sip" I mean "chug". He then removed the tent and stakes from their packaging and stared at them on the ground until someone (Peter Karl) eventually mosied over to help. And by "help", I mean "assemble our tent with very little assistance from Stew". Stew eventually wandered off while Uncle Pete finished assembling the tent, and this picture is the end result (Stew's birthday was the Monday following The Karl Invitational). That Peter Karl sure is thoughtful.

After the tents were all assembled and bellies were filled via a delicious meal provided by Dame Diana Karl, the Lawn Golf Tournament took place. It was a single-elimination tournament, and two games were played simultaneously until the tournament was called on account of darkness. Pete defeated Stew in the final round to advance to the championship versus his wife, my Aunt Michelle. I overheard Stew referring to this match-up as a "no-win situation for Pete." I believe Stew underestimated the competitive fire that burns deep within Pete, who would never allow his marriage to get in the way of winning a champion's trophy at The Karl Invitational. The championship game was played Saturday morning (following another awesome meal of pancakes, eggs, bacon and sausage provided by Diana). It was an extremely close final game that went down to the wire... I believe the final score was 21-19 or 21-20 in favor of Michelle. Therefore, she won the Golden Balls Award for being the 2007 Lawn Golf Champion. Here are pictures of the awards ceremony (cue the Star Wars theme music... or whatever the heck Pete had playing in the background during the ceremony). Stew somehow found a way to wiggle his way into most every picture on my camera, so here he is congratulating Michelle on her victory... he convinced her that it's tradition for the preceding year's champion to shake hands with the newly crowned champ for a photo opportunity. I just think it's another excuse for Stew to "wear" his Golden Balls Award, because I often see him wearing them around the house. In fact, he hasn't taken them off since we arrived home last Sunday... come to think of it, I've yet to see him even shower. Now I know what that funky smell in the house is (my apologies to Claire for blaming it on her diaper).

After Michelle was crowned Lawn Golf Champion, the group moved on to the first ever Couples Disc Golf Tournament. Four teams of two competed on a disc golf course designed (and constructed that morning) by Peter Karl. Quite an impressive feat, and Pete even created score cards for each team - complete with the course layout. The design of the course incorporates it into the existing local softball fields. There were no softball games in progress during the disc golf tournament, therefore, no overweight, mullet-wearing, beer-drinking, former high school athletes were hit with an errant disc during tournament play. Anyway, Michelle was teamed up with Stew... Veronica and Pete formed another team... as did Susan and Matt... and, finally, Kermit and Russell. Caddies for the day included: Berkley, Ole, Theo and Tucker (I stayed back at the house to swim in the kiddie pool with Claire... or, at least, lie down near the pool 'cause I hate water). Russell (blue shirt) and Kermit (tan shirt) came in last place, so they have the honor of having their photos posted to the blog. Plus, they showed the best throwing form throughout the day. Michelle and Stew came in Third Place (sounds better than "next to last"). A single point separated the first two places, but thanks to an impressive (make that "unbelievable") 40+ foot putt by Veronica on the 7th Hole, she and Pete took the championship over Mattie and Susan. The following putt by Matt on the 9th Hole was too little too late for his team, but I want to show you what professional disc golfers call the "straddle putt". Also, as demonstrated by Uncle Mattie, a sign of a true professional is the ability to maintain total concentration and take multiple drags off your Pall Mall while your opponents try to distract you with incessant idle chatter (watch the people on the right side of the video). Roll clip!



Unfortunately, I don't have any footage of Veronica's miraculous tournament-winning putt. But, let's face it, who would've thought she was going to make it? My cameraman thought it would've been a waste of film to keep the camera rolling, so he decided to take a break and suck down another Miller instead. My apologies to Aunt Veronica for ever doubting her disc golf skills! She's never let me down before, so I'm not sure why I didn't prepare my cameraman better. The best I can do is post a photo of Veronica showing her winning form. And, here's a photo of Veronica and Pete showing off their Disc Golf Grand Champion medallions during the awards ceremony (I still can't get that damn Star Wars theme song out of my head!). Apparently, Veronica must have thought she and Pete came in second place as she is holding up two fingers instead of one. But, it WAS 142 degrees with no shade during the disc golf tournament. I'm sure she was just a little delirious from the heat.

Moving on... the croquet tournament started after a late lunch. There were two heats with the top three finishers in each heat advancing to the finals. Unfortunately, dogs were banned from competition, so we all acted as referees instead. Luckily for Team Stewart, both Momma and Stew advanced to the finals. However, in true Stew form, he choked on his very first shot from the stake when he elected to try and knock Uncle Kermit's ball off course rather than acting like a normal person by simply heading on through the first wicket (the metal or wire opening set in the lawn through which you hit your ball). Stew's shot basically knocked both he and Kermit out of championship contention. From that point forward, Stew kept babbling "if this were a free throw shooting competition, I'd kick everyone's ass!" You see, after too many Miller's, Stew has flashbacks to his glory days as a mediocre high school basketball player (when he may - or may not - have lead all South Dakota class "AA" high school boys basketball players in free throw percentage both his junior and senior years). Anyway, members of the final round included (left to right): John Karl (last year's champ), Momma, Stew, Aunt Susan, Uncle Kermit and Uncle Pete. John used mind games by wearing his championship medallion (and t-shirt) from last year to psych out the other players. It definitely worked on Stew. Aunt Susan was the only player even close to beating John, who took home the Croquet Tournament Champion title for the second year in a row! I think Momma or Kermit came in third, while Stew came in last (just behind Pete). After the tournament, players dined on yet another fabulous meal (veggie lasagna and sausage & peppers) provided by Diana. She's remarkable, and both she and John put up with a lot just having all of us camp in their yard and infiltrate their home.

During most of the weekend, Claire spent a lot of her time chewing on things and hanging out with her buddy, Naiya. There was also a kiddie pool that belongs to Naiya, but Claire wasn't too interested in getting in it. Once her toes touched the cool water, she let out a scream. I'm also happy to report that I stayed clear of The Forbidden Garden (Diana and John's garden that I constantly ran through last year). Once you get to be my age, gardens lose their luster. Instead, I preferred to stay in the shaded areas of the yard this year. My only real problem (other than the altercation involving the SUPPOSEDLY innocent pedestrian walking past the croquet course) was sleeping in the tent. Apparently, my cousin Berkley has the same problem. It's like we turn into Paris Hilton in the Lynwood Detention Center... panting feverishly, drueling all over ourselves, and afraid to take a poop for fear someone will take a picture of us with a cell phone and post the photo on the web (like somebody did to this poor mutt). The car ride home wasn't much better, and I spent most of the ride staring out the back window wondering why all the cars were following us.

It's good to be home. To view more pictures from our weekend, click the MY PICTURES link on the right side of this page and open the "Karl Invitational" Webshots folder.

The Stewpranos - Part 2: Lost In Translation

Yesterday was Stew's birthday, so I thought I'd get him something extra special. Unfortunately, my act of kindness was not as well received as I would have hoped. Allow me to explain. WARNING: Scenes of death and injury may appear that may not be appropriate for some audiences.

My story takes place on a warm Monday morning... let's call it "yesterday." Dew is still shimmering off the greenish-yellow, urine-burned lawn in our backyard as I stroll around looking for a new spot to leave my grass-killing pee. As I'm squatting on the lawn relieving myself, I'm thinking "what can I get Stew for his birthday this year?" I want to get him something that nobody else would think of giving him. Something that says "thank you for making me part of your family," while at the same time showing Stew that I'm ready to be made a Captain (a "Capo" if you will) in his Scots-Irish American clan... something that shows my allegiance to the family, as well as my dedication to protecting it at all cost. Just then, the ideal gift presents itself in the form of a black squirrel attempting to run from the big Silver Maple tree in the corner of the yard to the slightly smaller Basswood tree near our patio. I was amused by his bravado, yet insulted at the same time. I saw the perfect opportunity to show Stew my commitment to "the family", and I acted accordingly. Here's where you might want to look away... I present you with the least gruesome photo of the results of my carnage. Not only did I give Stew a great honor by taking out one of our backyard enemies, but I also sent a message to any other squirrel, crow or other pest that might venture into my domain. Nothing says "beware of dog" like the headless corpse of a foolish squirrel! I'm sparing you a close-up shot of the squirrel, but I think you can still see the flies on its body (gross!). However, much to my dismay, Stew did not seem thrilled with my gift. I knew I might have screwed up when Stew asked "Oh no, Bogey... what have you done?" Apparently, the sentiment I wished to extend to my boss was lost in translation. I thought Stew would have been pleased. He even gave me one of the dog treats that I love so much, but it wasn't to reward me (the treats are also supposed to cure dog breath... I often find Stew crumbling a biscuit over some cereal he is preparing for Momma in the morning... yes, her morning breath could peel paint from the wall). After he gave me the doggie biscuit, he kept demanding "where's the head, Bogey... where is it?!?!"

I can assure you that Stew never found the head and, if there's anything I have to say about it, he never will. I feel like Christopher from The Sopranos television show - unappreciated by the family and its boss. At least the squirrel tail will go to good use... to the place where all squirrel tails eventually end up. On the head and/or face of the evil John Bolton, a Right Wing "tool" of the Bush Administration whose sole mission was/is to destroy the United Nations (thereby allowing the G8 member countries -- and all rich white men -- to rule the world). But I digress...

There's not much more I have to say about Stew's birthday. I can tell you that he enjoyed it to the fullest. We had leftover grilled hotdogs in the refrigerator (Linda's cousin, Jane, and her family came to visit Sunday night... so, the humans dined on grilled burgers and hotdogs). Anyway, on Monday morning, I watched Stew pile a hotdog and a piece of bacon onto a bun before dousing it with ketchup, mustard, diced tomatoes and chopped onions. He did this twice before feeding Claire at 7:30AM. He repeated this ritual again at lunch time.

In other news, I recently learned how to upload videos to my blog. So, here's my first attempt. If it works, it's a video clip of Claire crawling across the room to grab her talking dog toy. Just between you and me, I think the toy is possessed. Claire took her first (crawling) steps on Father's Day when she moved about 24 inches forward. Prior to that time, she only crawled backwards. Now, she can crawl wherever she wants... and I typically find her next to my head tugging on my ears. In the video, you can hear Stew speaking to Claire in a ridiculous voice. I make a cameo appearance in the right side of the frame. I'm the dog sprawled out on the rug. Enjoy!


Finally, here's a little comedy about a huge Dick... The Daily Show dissects VP Cheney's latest absurd action:
http://www.comedycentral.com/motherload/player.jhtml?ml_video=89061

The Karl Invitational Croquet & Lawn Golf Tournament

We are all VERY excited about this weekend because it will be our second time attending the Karl Invitational Croquet & Lawn Golf Tournament. Hosted by Sir John Karl and Dame Diana Karl (they were knighted several years ago after a bumper crop of horseradish saved the day... I'm sure you probably recognize the story, it was in all the local papers at the time), the event takes place in luxurious Waubun, MN. And if you're like me (cute, huggable and wet around the nose), then you're also wondering "where the heck is Waubun?" Luckily, Peter Karl (son of John & Diana) sent a map that I'm attaching for your convenience. And I thought I'd also throw up a picture of Pete - no pun intended - who is much taller than he appears in this photo. Anyway, the festivus takes place in the backyard of John and Diana's home. We all pitch a tent (he-he-he) and camp out in the yard, which is about the size of a dog park... which would explain why, at last year's event, I made an ass of myself by constantly running through the Karl's vegetable garden. I thought I was in a dog park and that the garden was simply part of an obstacle course meant to test my agility. Stew kept yelling profanities at me but, since I was just a puppy at the time, I thought he was shouting words of love and encouragement. Now that I know Stew better, I realize he's not capable of affection. And speaking of last year, we were joined by B-list celebrity, Patrick Swayze. Everyone was real excited, but I didn't understand why he was constantly running around shirtless and repeating the phrase, "nobody puts Baby in the corner!"

Stew is especially excited this year because he is the DEFENDING CHAMPION of the Lawn Golf Tournament. Stew has only held the title of "Defending Champion" one other time in his life - in 8th Grade during lunch break when he was Paper Football Champion at his table one day. Here's a picture I Googled of some "band nerds" playing Paper Football. Getting back to the Lawn Golf... if you're like me (fond of nibbling your backside and licking your front), then you're wondering "what the heck is 'lawn golf'?" Well, through extensive research I've learned the game has SEVERAL different titles: Lawn Golf, Rodeo Golf, Ladder Golf, Polish Golf, Redneck Golf, Monkey Ball, and - my personal favorite - Hillbilly Horseshoes. You can learn more names of the game, plus find instructions for building your own equipment, at this website: http://www.tourbeaufort.com/laddergolf.htm
It's a fun game if you are either drunk or "just a little slow". There are two goals (ladders) placed about 10 yards apart. Each player throws their set of golf-balls-attached-by-a-string at the goal. Points are scored if the balls wrap themselves around a rung (the lower the rung the more points scored). I'm attaching a picture of two people playing the game. I Googled the picture, so I don't know these folks. They are clearly not professionals because at the Karl Invitational Lawn Golf Tournament, most players sport a uniform (i.e., a stupid-looking hat or bib overalls or a crash helmet or whatever...). I got in trouble last year (of course) for attempting to chase the balls-on-a-string things. It was either me or possibly my cousin, Ole. Either way, a dog got reprimanded for following his natural instincts of wanting to chase, catch and devour balls-on-a-string. Oh, and I don't know this blond gal to the left either. But, her picture came up on my Google image search for "rodeo golf", and I thought she'd look good on my blog. She's part of the Auburn Golf Team... I'm not sure why her picture came up in my "rodeo golf" search, but I'm sure there's a distasteful joke involving the word "bareback" that I'm missing.

Last night, Stew demanded that Momma take pictures of him wearing his prize from last year - The Golden Balls Award. Taken directly from the Karl Invitational Lawn Golf Tournament Rules of the Game manual: The prize for winning the Lawn Golf Tournament is two gold-plated testes (balls) connected by a golden vas deferens (rope) presented in a scrotum (a plastic Hornbacher's Grocery Store bag) which is then tied around the Lawn Golf Champion's waist by a length of cat gut (more rope). I'm sure you'll admit that the prize is impressive... almost equally as impressive as the G.I. Joe shirt Stew lives in. The only days I don't see him wearing his G.I. Joe shirt are when he's wearing his Atari t-shirt (or his pork-n-bean juice stained V-neck t-shirt). Stew is lost in the '80's, and he also prefers wearing a visor to a baseball cap because, as he says, his "head gets hot real fast." Luckily, Stew gets to keep his award (as opposed to the "rotating trophies" this group of campers uses for other events, such as the Mini-Shuffleboard award). I can guarantee you that Stew will begin trash-talking immediately, which will totally jinx any chance he has at a repeat championship. I also know he has his sights on the Mini-Shuffleboard trophy (watch out Aunt Veronica... or Uncle Pete... I can't remember which one of you won the last tournament we held at 3:30AM in our garage one hot summer night last year).

Well, I have to help Stew start packing (after we clean the house first). So, I'll smell y'all later. Stay tuned for results of the big tournament(s) in Waubun...

Padre's Day

We all had a fabulous Father's Day. I was almost positive Stew would choose to take the Sunday newspaper into the bathroom and disappear for several hours to celebrate the occasion. Since he purchased both an Us Weekly and a People magazine for Aunt Susan to enjoy last Friday while she dog- and babysat, I figure he had more than enough reading material to last him for at least half the day. But, I was wrong. Sort of... he emerged much sooner than I would've bet. Sorry to be so gross by bringing this up, but this is my life and it must be added to the blog. Stew received a Starbuck's gift card from Claire (and me) and some cash from Grandma Helen & Grandpa Bob (to buy coffee... or ice cream), so Stew and the girls loaded up the car and headed out for... coffee. I was banished to the house 'cause my drueling and constant shaking while in the back of Stew's SUV gives him the impression that I hate traveling. As usual, he would be right. I prefer going for a w-a-l-k (Momma and Stew have to spell "walk" around me since I will freak out otherwise). Anyway, they all must have driven around some more million dollar neighborhoods to look at houses out of our price range because they were gone most of the day. But, here are some pictures of Claire's Father's Day outfit. You might notice she doesn't like wearing hats (she prefers to chew on them instead). She and I are very much alike in this regard. I'm thinking that the next time Stew tries strapping a hat or visor to my head I'm going to bite him. Or at least bark. Maybe I'll growl. Most likely, I'll just sit idly by and allow the violation to occur. I'm such a wuss. Grrrrrr.

Fore!

Last Friday, Stew headed north to Clearwater, MN, for the Central Minnesota Habitat for Humanity Celebrity Golf Tournament, which is an annual tourney sponsored by the greatest financial advisors in the world -- Andy Jacobs and his family (Jacobs Financial). And, just like last year, Stew was the only celebrity in attendance, so he's bummed that he still had to pay the entry fee again this year. As the picture shows, I was all ready to head north... had my golf visor on and everything... but Stew told me "no dogs allowed." So, I stayed behind with Claire and Aunt Susan, who sat with us for the day until Momma got home from work. Joining Stew on his trek north were Uncle Kermit and friends, Eric H. and Katie M. (I'm witholding their last names to protect their "innocence"). The mighty foursome competed with 34 other teams in a "Golf Scramble" tournament.

In a Scramble, each player tees off on each hole (then takes a drink of beer -- or vodka lemonade in Katie's instance). The best of the tee shots is selected by determining which ball is not "wet" from flying into the water hazard, and all players play their second shots from that spot (but not before each player raises his/her drink and recites a toast in honor of the shooter of the best tee shot). If any of the second shots are playable (i.e., not deep in the woods never to be found), then all the players shoot their third shots from that spot. This vicious cycle continues until the ball is finally holed or the team behind you starts yelling "get off the course, you losers!" In either case, at least one beer/drink is required to be consumed per player before the hole is considered "finished."

In Friday's tournament, prizes were not only awarded to the 1st Place team, but random places (6th, 15th and 32nd) also received awards. Unfortunately, our fearless foursome finished 35th (yes... that's dead last). With a score of 84, our hometown heros were a mere 14 shots over par on this course. By contrast, the 1st Place team finished with a score of 58... or 12 shots under par, which means they required 26 less shots than our team to finish the course. On the bright side, with Stew as captain, the team easily consumed more beer than any other foursome on the planet. And I'm guessing no other team was even close. In addition to drinking beer and hitting golf balls into the woods, the foursome enjoyed a day of discussing military jargon for units of measure (such as in the phrase, "Hey, Kermit... you only missed the green by a ______ ______.") Decency standards forbid me from divulging the military lingo that fits this example. And speaking of decency, I'm told the three guys made it all the way to the 13th Tee before someone (probably Kermit... just guessing) directed an inappropriate comment toward the lady on the team. I think the guys all want an award or something for showing such restraint... proving chivalry is clearly not dead.

After the tournament awards ceremony, which included a free steak dinner with red potatoes and salad, the foursome headed to the only motel in Clearwater - some place with either "Budget" or "Inn" in the title (but it's NOT a Budget Inn). Anyway, you know the place. It's the motel directly across Highway 24 from Keith's Kettle Family Restaurant (click this link!) (http://www.current.tv/watch/25123016). Just look for Keith's picture out front! Apparently, Uncle Kermit did some preliminary investigation and discovered the tavern connected to the motel (Flinstone's Lounge) has a Big Buck Hunter video game, not to mention darts and a killer jukebox. The gang arrived sometime between 9:00PM and 10:00PM and didn't stop playing Big Buck Hunter and throwing darts until shortly after the young bartender politely asked them to depart at 2:00AM (and again at 2:05AM... and one more time at 2:07AM). Eventually, the kid had to throw the bums out at 2:08AM. The bar tab for the night only amounted to $78, whereas I'm told one could easily spend $78 on a single round of drinks in Minneapolis. Based on this fact alone, Kermit and Stew are looking for a house together in Clearwater... no word yet on if Susan and Linda will be joining the boys on their relocation.

Well, I've got to get going... but in case anyone ever wondered why golfers yell "fore!" after hitting an errant shot, here's a link to some possible answers:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fore_%28golf%29

The Stewpranos

Claire has taken her first step... that is, her first step toward reconciliation with me. Ever since Aunt Karen exposed Claire's ability to talk to the crows, the birds have mysteriously disappeared. Claire was rumored to have been instructing the crows to attack me, but she denies she wanted to see me harmed. Apparently, Claire caught an old episode of The Sopranos (re-runs are currently running on the A&E Network) and hatched the plan involving crows. Claire came clean this weekend and told me that she didn't inform the crows to "whack me". Rather, she was only using the crows to "send a message" that she can get to me whenever she wants. She feels (what little) attention I get from Momma and Stew is a threat to her title as Family Boss. I assured her that she has nothing to fear from me and, instead, she should monitor Momma's belly. If it starts to grow outward, then that's a sign that Claire's reign over the family is in danger. So far, however, there are no such signs... sorry, Grandmas, but I'm told it will be a while so you should just relax.

Anyway, Claire figures that if Paris Hilton can do time for breaking the law, then she (Claire) should be punished for Conspiracy to Threaten (yes, it's a real crime: http://www.allheadlinenews.com/articles/7007525745). So this morning, Claire turned herself into the Stewville Mobile Dentention Center (known as "The Play Yard" around these parts). But unlike Paris Hilton, who gets special treatment by having her own jail cell (now in the psych ward), Claire was placed into a cell block with two other inmates -- a singing dog and a really strange looking elephant that makes LOTS of interesting noises when you squeaze and/or shake it. Claire was able to bring two books with her, so she chose Soft Sounds on the Farm and Dr. Seuss's ABC: An Amazing Alphabet Book. Upon her arrival at the detention center, a spokesdog for Claire (me) released the following written statement:

"I want to thank the Stewville Law Enforcement Department and staff of the Stewville Mobile Detention Center for treating me fairly and professionally. I am going to serve the entire one hour of my sentence. I have learned a great deal from this ordeal and hope that others have learned from my mistakes. Additionally, I'm shocked by the amount of media coverage -- particularly from the stay-at-home-dog blog -- and I wish people would focus on more important things, like tainted dog food."

Additionally, Claire has no plans to appeal her sentence. And, showing she still has a sense of humor about the whole ordeal, Claire posed in her cell block and gave her best Paris Hilton impersonation. Momma, Stew and I are hopeful that Claire never decides to choose Paris Hilton (or any other scum-of-the-earth socialite) as a role model. The point to having Stew stay at home with Claire is so she has a strong relationship with her father. While mothers usually serve as role models for their daughters (i.e., teach the daughter how to be an individual), fathers are the ones who teach their daughters how to regard themselves, what kinds of relationships are healthy, what to look for in a partner, and what to expect of men in co-parenting relationships (source: http://www.dr-jane.com/chapters/Jane125.htm). So, based on studies I've read, Paris Hilton hates her father (or, more likely, he hates her).

Well, Claire is about to be released from The Play Yard, so I need to get ready to help escort her to the backyard for more landscaping fun.