WRIGLEY FIELD -and- BORDER COLLIE EXPLOITS WITH THE POINTY-PRICK (EARS) SQUAD

As my loyal and faithful followers know, I go EVERYWHERE with My Dad.  I have a reputation as an “autonomous” Border collie…I know what is about to happen, and I act accordingly.  Going bye-bye in the car means I walk out of the apartment, right to the Scion xB, My Dad opens the rear driver’s side door and I hop up.  Automatic.  I know what is going on.  I don’t have to instructed or commanded to accomplish the normal, simple, routine parts of life.  I get it.  When My Dad is out on his assignments as a private investigator, I watch everything.  I alert him to cars too close to the Scion xB, to strangers approaching the car, to Canada geese, to most canines.  And My Dad always says, “Good boy.”  I like to be told I am a “good boy.”  Allow me to bring you up to date on my adventures with my life, friends, and special interests.

In March, My Dad and I took six hours of additional training with Rainbow Animal Assisted Therapy (RAAT) and I passed their registry test…easy stuff.

In April, My Dad spent a couple of hours with Kenosha County, WI Sheriff’s Department investigators on a confidential matter.  We then stopped at the Kenosha County Airport for a photo-op near an Antonov AN-2.

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HR-ARK, an Antonov AN-2 single engine Soviet built plane.  Production of this type started in, get this, 1946!  This one looks a bit forlorn with a ragged vertical stabilizer and tires sinking into the turf.

During a foray to downtown Chicago, My Dad made me pose in front of the “honorary” Armenian Consulate located in an exotic rug shop…really!20180322_131836

On the way back to the Scion xB, a quick photo-op at the FAMOUS Gene & Georgetti Restaurant.  Best steaks in the City.  Unfortunately, we did not stop for a meal…

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This past weekend, we (My Dad and I working together) were investigating a  creep-o-zoid who lived in Uptown, around Wilson and Broadway.  After we finished our inquiries, we drove south to the Wrigley Field area for some additional visits and photo-ops.

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An example of, “it’s not always the dog who is photo-bombing.”

For the Cubs being in St. Louis (getting swept) this weekend, there was A LOT of activity going on at Wrigley.  Restaurants were busy, the Wrigley Run had just finished up, and many dogs were out with their owners, like I care.  Ian, one of the Wrigley Field Security dudes, wanted to pet me, and My Dad turned it into a photo-op.

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“Hey, Ian, it’s me, MAGIC!  What’s happenin’???  Am I photogenic, or what?

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The MUSIC BOX Theater opened in 1929.  An integral part of the busy and thriving Southport Avenue commercial district several blocks west of Wrigley Field.

I had some friends over in my spacious back-yard for some play time, bitey-face, chase me-chase you, and dust-ups.

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The Pointy-Prick squad…ears that is.  CASH, an ACD mix is in the foreground.  OZZIE, who looks like a chocolate lab in a German Shepherd body and head is to my right.  Tongues hangin’ out means everyone is having a good time!

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THE DE-MUZZLING OF DANTE, SECRET MISSIONS TO DOWNTOWN, and CREEP-O-ZOID IN THE PARKING LOT

Last Sunday, My Dad and I were up at 4:30 am; we had to drive into downtown Chicago on a “secret” mission.  My Dad is quite candid when he describes me as a “lure,” as in fishing lure.  Who would suspect that a handsome 57 pound, very well behaved, Border collie, would be involved in subterfuge, a guise, a ruse?  However, before our departure in the Scion xB, I needed my morning walk which was completed with typical Border collie efficiency.  But after our return, My Dad alerted me to suspicious behavior in our parking lot.  I saw My Dad peering out the bedroom window blinds, so I stepped up to the lower level of the window blinds to see what he was interested in.  A stranger (stranger-danger) had just parked his older Nissan in the lot, exited his car and was looking in cars using a flashlight and pulling on the door handles!  My Dad was soon on his cell phone.  I followed him to our front door and we both watched the stranger skulking among the cars, we could hear door handles pulled.  I gave a deep growl, My Dad quietly said, “good boy…shhh…good boy.”  I love being called a good boy.  The skulking stranger soon left in his car, and several minutes later, the police knocked on our door and talked with My Dad.  The stranger’s car had been pulled over by the police a short distance away.

As the sky to the east lightened, My Dad and I left in the xB and headed downtown.  My Dad said we would be on surveillance – waiting for someone to leave their condominium high-rise near Millenium Park.

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Here I am outside of 400 E. Randolph acting as the “lure.”

As part of the ruse, my disguise, my being a “lure,” I am required to say HI! to a constant stream of people, many with dogs.  As all of my loyal readers know, I am the canine-psychologist, the mentor, the facilitator, the play-with-me specialist.  One of the dogs I encountered Sunday morning was Dante, a retriever-collie mix, and as he approached with his humans they placed a soft, fabric muzzle on his muzzle.  His humans said that Dante sometimes became aggressive with other dogs.  Mmm, obviously Dante hadn’t made my acquaintance, yet.  So, you may not be aware of this, but, dogs can easily communicate by thought-transmission.  Oh, don’t believe it?  Google it…canine thought-transmission…  So the muzzled Dante and I activated our thought-transmission capabilities…easy stuff, really!

why did your humans put that black tube on your mouth?  is that a toy?

mmph…mmm…zzz…le….mmmph…

you seem like a cool dude, you want to play, i won’t hurt you, you’re not going to bite will you…

mmmpph…play with me…can you take this off….mmmum?

ok…looks easy, hold still, i am going to place my mouth over your mouth, won’t hurt you….easy….easy….ha, it’s off…you’re sure this isn’t a toy, i can turn it into a toy?

And then we were playing, instant best friends.  No aggression, no biting, no growling…just dog fun.  Dante’s parent were SHOCKED when I removed the black tube!

The following Thursday, My Dad went back to the same building for additional covert activities, don’t tell anyone.  And can you guess who we ran into?  Yes, Mr. Dante, who is now my BFF.

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Dante with his Mom, Brittany.  She owns the Absolutely Chicago Segway tours which meant she had a constant source of water in a large bowl for us during our play activities!

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Marketing!  Are we cute, or what?!

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This is a dog-hug.  Dante and I trusted each other from the moment we first met.

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Sometimes, Dante wanted to get REAL friendly with me.  But, that does not bother me…a quick word and Dante responded well to subtle corrections.

 

GIVING IN TO TEMPTATION and BARKING AT BOVINES

“Your characterization of me as a dog, as a BORDER COLLIE, with poor manners is a bit upsetting…that photo is inappropriate.”

“Which photo are you referring to, the chewed container or the warm turkey breast in the back of the Scion xB with you?”

“Mmmmmmph…they were both taken by you today…the event is over…the event was, like, five or six days ago…you discussed this problem with me already…this is inappropriate material for the blog -MY BLOG-  I might add…I realized I made a mistake dragging the warm turkey breast into the back of the xB…”

“You did a bit more than just drag it into the back of the Scion, and I know, you were apologetic about your actions.”

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Warm, savory, juicy…aromatherapy for dogs…mouth-watering, too, and very tasty!

My Dad and I were out and about last Saturday, and one of our stops was Sunset Foods for some groceries.  And while I will use the photos My Dad took today, I am using these only so that all of my loyal and faithful readers will understand that this event took place on SATURDAY – some six days ago!  For some reason, My Dad feels that my poorly thought out decision to crawl up into the front seat of the xB and  g-e-n-t-l-y  pick up the cooked, juicy ROTISSERIE turkey breast and bring to the back of the Scion requires a full disclosure – must be the investigator in him.  I am referring to this as a re-creation of the actual event – gently pick up the Sunset Foods plastic bag holding the savory, aroma-therapy of the juicy, warm turkey breast, remove the warm plastic container from the plastic bag, chew and pry the clear plastic top from the container and….VOILA!…a delicious, mouth-watering turkey breast.  And I was able to chew off and consume four corners before My Dad returned from his shopping foray at Target, or as he likes to say, “TARJHAY.”  I say, WOOF!  That turkey breast was DELICIOUS!

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This is only a re-creation…makes My Dad feel better…

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While this is the ACTUAL container I broke into, this event took place some six days ago.  The benefit for me was turkey breast mixed into my regular IAMS Natural meal.

“Don’t forget the barking-at-the-cows story.”

“Well, finally, another story that is a bit more appropriate for MY blog.”

We drive through Glenview, Illinois several times a week…My Dad used to live here…and we pass by Wagner Farms located at the northwest corner of Lake Street and Wagner Road.  Part of the allure of Wagner Farms is that it is a  working (allegedly) dairy farm – WITH COWS.  The cows stand around, watch the cars go by, the cows are moronic.  They do not have any herding dogs, of any kind, running around Wagner Farms to keep these cows, these cud-chewing bovines, in line and alert.  So as part of my never-ending job as a Border collie, a very serious herding dog, I bark-bark-bark-bark at these simpletonians, these slobbering, burbling, bovines.  I can see their ears twitch and they look around – “….uhhh…where is the Border collie….?”  Very satisfying to get that reaction.  Time for a nap.  I played with Kaya and Erin today.  Later…….MAGIC.

MISSION TO DOWNTOWN and PUDDLES OF VOMIT

“I’m taking the train downtown this morning, will you be alright for about three hours?”

“Mmmm…not really…why don’t you bring me with?”

“Traffic will be a pain, taking the train downtown will be more relaxing, I will be back by 12:30.”

“Hah!  That is not three hours, that is more like four hours and 34 minutes.  OK, I will entertain myself, can you leave your gloves on the table, or a hat?”

“Blackmailed by a Border collie…is that how it’s going to be?  My gloves and my hats are already displaying Border collie damage…divots, gouges, nicks, pieces of fabric missing, fingers missing…”

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My Dad taught me how to remove his hat from his head…some unfortunate damages have occurred as a direct result of my quick learning abilities.

“Oh, c’mon…we’ll drive together…we can go for a walk downtown…I know you love to show me off…right?”

Easy stuff for a determined Border collie…pushing My Dad around, manipulating him, he is so ruminant-like, at times.  Yes, we are going bye-bye in the Scion xB to downtown Chicago on a “mission.”  And the traffic on the Kennedy Expressway was just fine – I love sticking my head out the window at a leisurely 17 miles per hour…sometimes 2 miles per hour.

After My Dad had successfully completed his mission, serving a court summons on a very cooperative Registered Agent, he returned to the Scion xB on the 7th floor of the parking structure.  I am still getting comfortable with elevators.  While I will no longer hesitate to board an elevator, once I am inside, I have a tendency to spread my legs and drop into a crouch – I feel a bit more steady on my feet this way.

My Dad told me that the prior weekend, the City of Chicago had dyed the Chicago River GREEN (as if it was not green enough) for St. Patrick’s day (My Dad’s birthday) and this event coupled with the Saint Patrick’s Day parade encourages a lot of humans to drink a lot of alcohol…and this results in numerous puddles of VOMIT – EVERYWHERE.  While these puddles were interesting for a Border collie, especially the pink puddles and orange puddles, My Dad kept telling “NO” in his very calm voice, and I listen VERY well!

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Wacker Drive with a view to the east…and no puddles of yucchy stuff to be seen!

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The Marina Towers “corncob,” and the curved glass of the Trump Tower in the background.  No, those people behind me were not throwing-up.

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Jumping into a raised flower bed is very easy for a Border collie.

By the way, I have a large number of canine friends who visit frequently.  I am not food-aggressive, so when my canine friends visit, I will watch them have a meal at my place.

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Brandy (a/k/a Demonic Schizoid) after enjoying MY breakfast…I just watch, why cause an argument?

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Coco and Loli visited last night.  Their Mom was out of town.  Coco is a Border collie wannabe, she runs next to me outside and barks whenever I bark.  They are official members of the Magic Fan Club.

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And, meet LOLA (Lo-Lo-Lo-Lo-Lo-La, from the song by the Kinks), she is an eight month old Shiba-Inu, who has just joined the Magic Fan Club.  Nice ears, YOU BABY!

ON ASSIGNMENT: QUINCY, ILLINOIS. METH MANUFACTURING AND ARSON (SUSPECTED)

 

A long bye-bye in the Scion xB, yesterday.  My Dad and I were outta here at 7:00 a.m. for the drive to Quincy, IL via the so-called CKC-IL 110 Route, sort of a sneaky way of saying:  I-88 to I-80 to I-74 to US 136 to IL 61 routing.  Quad Cities, Knox, Monmouth, Galesburg…blah, blah, blah.  On the trip down, My Dad found out the hard way that if you’re not paying attention for the little CKC-110 signs, you’re going to drift and add (quite a bit of) time to the drive.  And, a long car ride means something else – HAMBURGERS!

What?  OK.  Jeez, I don’t even get to talk about the fun part of the day.  My Dad just told me to “stay focused and on track.”  OK, Mr. Investigator.  More about the hamburgers in a bit.  But when My Dad starts to, as he puts it, “drill-down,” on an investigation, and he senses some juicy documents with “crucial” information are located in the hinterlands of Illinois, we’re gone, we are hitting the road.  My Dad gave me a partial briefing on the latest miscreant.  The “subject” had a mysterious fire about 30 minutes after leaving his rural residence late one night.  Some on-line inquiries of various county court records revealed some very interesting cases – like an active felony case for possessing the pre-cursors for methamphetamine (METH) manufacturing.  So, off to Quincy to look at the “paper files.”  My Dad often says that the paper file located at the county court house has “interesting” info…all public record.

Back to our hamburger stop.  What?  OK…tell the rest of the story.  Let me make this quick.  My Dad came back to the car with about an inch of documents.  And he found that an “associate” of the “subject” may be the same guy who had a prior felony conviction for “criminal conspiracy to manufacture methamphetamine.”  Sounds creepy.  But, if you’re the “subject,”  I would think that it is pretty smart to start a new criminal conspiracy with “associates” who have prior experience with meth…right?  Seems like a no-brainer…which is usually what happens after you start using meth.  HA!  My Dad just chuckled on that bit of Border collie humor.  OK, now I can talk about the hamburgers.

My Dad stopped at the McDonald’s in Monmouth, IL…TWICE!  On the way to Quincy, and on the way back.  Plain hamburgers – TWO – at each visit.

Remember, I never sleep in the car?  Things must be monitored, My Dad caught me watching him in the rear view mirror.

Finishing up two McDonald's hamburgers...plain.  Just the meat and the bread.  YUMMY!

Finishing up two McDonald’s hamburgers…plain. Just the meat and the bread. YUMMY!

Just to prove we were actually in Quincy and not making up this whole story.  Quincy College was NOT, directly or indirectly, involved in this investigation.

Just to prove we were actually in Quincy and not making up this whole story. Quincy University was NOT, directly or indirectly, involved in this investigation.  I do not like my picture taken…fyi.

Monitoring My Dad, all the time.

Monitoring My Dad, all the time.

ORDER OF THE BLACK EYE PATCH and COVERT ACTIONS WITH JACK BAUER

My Dad and I have had a busy week.  We drove up to Woodstock, Illinois to file the return affidavit on “The BIGAMIST” case.  On US 14, the despised brown cube – UPS- was driving next to us for a long time…see the pictures below.  Yes, I really gave it to him, out the left rear window of the Scion…I know what to do…jeez.

I am going to start a new organization, ORDER OF THE BLACK EYE PATCH.  I met with my good buddy OLIVER, yesterday, to discuss the organizational plans.  Oliver, also know as Ollie, did not like the length of the name…he wanted to shorten it up a bit to O.B.E.P … So, the two of us are in a bit of a disagreement over the logo, the brand.  Perhaps my loyal followers could provide some assistance.  My feeling on this is,  WHO is going to know what OBEP means?  Even if it is coupled with an image of a black eye patch being worn by a handsome dog…I was thinking of me…but then again, I really wouldn’t need to wear an eye patch.  But, I am WAY more handsome than Oliver…but that is between me and my loyal, wonderful, intelligent, followers.  I am envisioning T-Shirts, hats, decals all with the slogan and my picture – ORDER OF THE BLACK EYE PATCH.  What?  Huh?  You’re kidding?  My Dad just made a poorly-timed comment about infringing on the trademark of the Oakland Raiders and the Tampa Bay Buccaneers.  I don’t think so…are those two teams made up of dogs (?), all of them with black eye patches…duh.  Dad, you stick to your investigative work, and let me handle the marketing for my entrepreneurial spirit.  So, Oliver (I never call him Ollie, he does not like that name) and I were having a serious discussion about the big plans for the ORDER OF THE BLACK EYE PATCH and who comes out of his apartment with his Mom, Danielle?  Mr. Covert, Mr. Spy, Mr. Fighting the Forces of Evil, Mr. Mysterious…the 12 pound Jack Bauer.  Talk  talk  talk  talk  talk.  Jack!  Take a breath…  Ahhh, no…you will not allowed to be a member of ORDER OF THE BLACK EYE PATCH.  You will purchase a hat, a decal, and a t-shirt?  Mmmm….perhaps we’ll consider an honorary membership.  By the way, Jack Bauer (that is his real name) is a Pomegranate.  What?  Spell that…oh, ok.  OK, My Dad corrected me, Jack Bauer is a Pomeranian.  Jack is, how do I put this diplomatically, delusional?  He is always telling me about his (covert) adventures (Right, Jack) as an agent for:  THE AGENCY FOR FIGHTING THE FORCES OF EVIL.  Sounds a bit contrived, but I see potential for T-Shirts, hats and a decal.  Jack, Jack…wait up!

UPS...I see you!

UPS…I see you!

The DESPISED cube...UPS...

The DESPISED cube…UPS…

My buddy OLIVER, I bet you get the ORDER OF THE BLACK EYE PATCH, now...right?

My buddy OLIVER, I bet you get the ORDER OF THE BLACK EYE PATCH, now…right? or is it left?

Me with the delusional super-sleuth JACK BAUER, and his very tolerant Mom, Danielle.

Me with the delusional super-sleuth JACK BAUER, and his very tolerant Mom, Danielle.

ON ASSIGNMENT: SERVING THE BIGAMIST IN KANE COUNTY

Going bye-bye in the Scion xB is always FUN!  But when My Dad brings me on a (shhhh) CONFIDENTIAL ASSIGNMENT, all of my favorite things happen…barking out the window, hamburgers from McDonald’s, being on the lookout for the despised delivery trucks, off-leash walks in State Parks, and continually alerting My Dad to all road hazards.  We were out early on Thursday for the drive to the Kane County Judicial Complex – to serve McHenry County Divorce papers on THE BIGAMIST.  My Dad had been monitoring his latest miscreant; a sociopath with multiple DUI’s, pending felony charges and the worst…being married to more than one woman, TWICE!  My Dad had given me a full, unadulterated briefing, on Mr. Smarty-Pants.  My Dad is usually a lot smarter, a lot more creative, a lot more cunning, than your average low-grade human being.  So My Dad had developed intel (intelligence) on Mr. Smarty-Pants Bigamist (Mr. SPB) and was aware that Mr. SPB was scheduled for a hearing on one of his felony cases…Thursday morning, 9:00 a.m., Court Room 305. My Dad and I arrived at the courthouse at 8:00 a.m.  My Dad rolled down all of the windows, cracked the (secured) hatchback, so I had ventilation.  He also parked under a tree.  It was pretty cool and overcast that morning, so, no worries about me overheating in the Scion.  I had water, I was in the Scion, I was cool…life was good.  When My Dad returned, he did not have the McHenry County documents with him – SUCCESS!  Mr SPB stepped out of the elevator right at 9:00 a.m.  Just a blank stare when My Dad served him…go figure…

I know, I know…I love to talk about barking out my window in the Scion xB.  Here is some documentation that shows how much fun I have with this activity.  And, a picture of a rainbow from My Dad’s soccer tournament in Lockport on Saturday…just trying to please everyone…   -Cody

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FLOWERS IN ON SATURDAY

It was snowing here on Friday…SNOWING in mid-May.  And this isn’t Nome, or Yukon, or International Falls…this is Chicago.  But the next day, Saturday, was really nice.  From the time we got up, My Dad was talking about a bike ride on the Des Plaines River Trail…which meant the Border collie stays home…sigh.  My Dad went out to have coffee with his sister Mary.  By the way, did I tell you My Dad CHANGED CARS with Mary.  Yes, yes, yes…she had surgery, she can’t drive a stick…blah, blah, blah.  So MY Magnanimous Dad offered to switch cars for a time yet to be determined.  HELLO  HELLO  HELLO….THERE IS JUST ONE PROBLEM WITH THIS ARRANGEMENT.  There is no window to stick my head out of, you know, for barking…this is a TREMENDOUS inconvenience for me.  You don’t see My Dad barking out his window…do you?  And another thing, the back of the Mini Cooper is not as roomy as the Scion xB.  I bet My Dad hasn’t taken photos of the cramped area I am confined to in the Mini…”nothing to see here folks, move along, move along.”  But, My Dad did not leave me at home all day on Saturday, just so he could take a bike ride.  I got to stay out almost all afternoon, outside in the sun, with My Dad!  He came home with bags of potting soil, flowers, some new perennials, a fern plant…  The winter was very hard on the landscaping outside our apartment…the perennials…as My Dad put it, “croaked.”  So, I was “the sentinel” all afternoon – watching for the devious mail trucks, FEDEX and UPS.  But it was a quiet afternoon.

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You can’t force me to look happy…I DO NOT like my picture taken….OK!?

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My Dad thinks this fern plant is really cool…how ’bout putting it a bit lower, so it can be suitably marked, duh…

Oh, on Sunday, I did get to go to soccer all day with My Dad.  Yes, I tolerated the back of the Mini Cooper just fine, thank you…

MONITORING MY DAD

My Dad was out of sorts Tuesday and Wednesday.  Staying up til 2:00 a.m. on Tuesday night/Wednesday morning…watching Animal Planet about a dead hippo being picked apart by scavengers in Africa.  What was going on?

As my followers are well aware, I watch My Dad, monitor My Dad, VERY CLOSELY.  When he is driving the Scion xB, I watch EVERYTHING he does to control the vehicle…every time he touches ANY of the controls at ANY time, I watch very carefully.  I would LOVE to drive the Scion xB.  When My Dad is in the kitchen, you can find me at the kitchen entryway…monitoring.  When My Dad is in the bathroom, I am either right next to My Dad or blocking the bathroom entryway.  When My Dad is in bed, I am right there…my head on his right thigh, or, I am “muzzling” his right elbow for some extra petting.

But, Tuesday morning, My Dad did not have breakfast.  When we went out on “assignment,” to serve papers on some deadbeat, we made a stop to get some burgers at McDonald’s, but, My Dad did not buy his usual – The Thai-Chili Wrap with grilled Chicken.  He did buy a Sprite…but no food. Strange behavior.  I got two plain burgers, though.  We were back home by 3:00 p.m. Tuesday afternoon.  My Dad wasn’t eating anything…was he sick?  I noticed that the big plastic jug in the CVS bag was now in the kitchen.  My Dad filled this jug with water and shook it up.  My Dad must have been thirsty…he drank five or six glasses from this jug over the next hour.  I had to monitor him in the bathroom, much more frequently than usual.  Then, later on, he got real thirsty again.  He finished off the remainder of this jug.  Every time he drank a glass full, he had this look on his face that it tasted yucky.  Sometimes, I like stuff that tastes yucky, but, he would not let me try any.  Usually, My Dad and I are in bed by 10:00 p.m.  Not Tuesday night, he was on the couch watching some gross Animal Planet series on dead animals in Africa.  We were up way past 2:00 a.m.  I even got a walk in at 2:00 a.m.  A short walk…My Dad seemed impatient, he wanted to get back inside to the bathroom.  I was becoming worried…more bathroom time.  But I am a very faithful, very loyal, companion.  I was right there, in the bathroom, monitoring…

Yesterday morning, My Dad left early.  But he didn’t drive his Scion xB.  Someone else picked him up, the car was different, didn’t sound like the cars our neighbors use.  My Dad was back home by 11:00 a.m.  He had some pasta and chicken from Noodles & Co.  I got some chicken and a few pieces of the curly-Q pasta…yummy!

So, everything is back to normal.  My Dad is eating again.  I was listening to My Dad say everything was normal, no problems…whatever that means.

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Monitoring My Dad is a tough job.  Vigilance, alertness, and dedication are the primary requirements.