Category: Interesting

Trigger Warning: the following post discusses mature issues such as body parts, reproduction, family relations, and other stuff. If you are thin skinned, narcissistic, or easily offended then stop reading now. You have been warned.

I will give you a countdown to change to another article.

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Ok, thanks for sticking with me on this one. This post is about my vasectomy reversal. Again, if the topic offends you then turn back now.

First some history.

My wife and I were married in 2003. She spent almost all of the first two years of our marriage pregnant. Yep, three months into our marriage, she was pregnant for the first time. We had just started to tell people in our circle of friends, mostly at church, that she was with child and then she lost the baby.

I remember the drive home from work in the middle of the afternoon. Trying to drive and bawling my eyes out is difficult but I made it to the hospital. My wife was in the emergency room at Kaiser South Sacramento. She was sitting in the emergency room for way too long and nobody was in a hurry to see us. Once I got there, she pulled out her trusty cell phone and called Carolyn. Carolyn was a friend and a doctor on staff at that hospital. She came immediately to the ER to help her friend, my wife. She walked us from the ER to see an OBGYN doctor. No paperwork, no waiting, just service. Ten minutes after calling Carolyn my wife was finally being helped.

A few months later, my wife’s ex, her children from the previous marriage, and her former in-laws all took a trip to Mexico. It was Valentine’s Day week in 2004. It was during this period of no children in the house that my wife became pregnant again. Our son James was born in November of that year.

In the spring of 2005, pregnancy number three happened. Again, just as we were prepared to tell people, she lost the baby.

At this point, my wife took a trip to the OBGYN. After that fateful visit, we had a talk. During her pregnancy, she had gained a lot of weight and never lost it after our son was born. The verdict of the OBGYN was that my wife was too overweight to successfully have any more children. Thus, a proposal was put before me, either I had to have a vasectomy, or she had to have her lady parts “fixed”.

Since it was easier for me to have a vasectomy than for her to get her tubes tied, she pushed me to get the vasectomy. I reluctantly agreed. In exchange for me getting the surgery, she promised me more frequent sexual relations since we wouldn’t need to worry about any more children.

Editor’s Note: never do anything for a women based on a promise of more and better sex in the future. Such promises are hollow and unenforceable.

Reluctantly, I agreed. Folks I never wanted to do this, but it was the only time she played the “if you love me…” card during our marriage. I wanted to please her and who says no to more sex with their wife?

About ten years later, she had her ovaries removed as a preventative, in an effort to avoid getting cancer. Ironically, she later died of cancer, just a different one.

Following her death, I received a small insurance payment. With that money, I had promised to take a trip that we would have enjoyed going on together. That was my trip to Ireland last year.

At the same time, I was booking the Ireland trip, I decided to right a wrong that I still regretted from our marriage. I wanted to be whole again. Thus, I made an appointment to get a vasectomy reversal. I researched the topic and landed on a place in Ogden Utah that specialized in the reversal procedure. I paid for the surgery and got on the waiting list. The surgery was scheduled for September 9, 2025.

FYI As it turned out, Charlie Kirk was assassinated the day following my surgery. Charlie died about two miles from my hotel room on the day I checked out of the hotel.

Folks, by the time I booked the vasectomy reversal, I had been doing enough online dating that I knew that I wanted someone younger than me. I have stated before on this blog that I didn’t want to be dating someone that looks like my grandmother. I had decided that I wanted to find a woman about 40 years old. I knew that women in that age group still desire the possibility of children but a guy that can’t offer that is handicapped when they are sterile.

After booking the surgery, I met my girlfriend, fiancé, wife, or whatever the correct title is. We discussed the issue of children. And, yes, she would like a few kiddos in her world. However, she said if God will give us children, then that will be good, if not, we can try other ways of having a family. Being with me was more important than children but she would like both.

Seven weeks after the vasectomy reversal, I flew out to see her for a month.

The surgery place in Ogden provided me with four test kits. Periodically, I was expected to send in samples for testing. The test prior to my trip was negative. The test after my trip (December) was negative as well. Spending a large sum of money only to be shooting blanks was painful and discouraging.

Following the surgery, I told some friends that knew about me getting a reversal that all my private parts were black, but not bigger. Folks, the amount of bruising was remarkable. It took over six months for the dissolvable sutures to go away. The healing of my scrotum was uneven and slow. The horizontal cut was substantial. I later found out that even though the reversal utilizes microsurgery that the testicle is fully removed from the scrotum so the doctor can do the operation. Oh, the vas tube they attach is almost the diameter of a human hair. In my case, the vas tube had to be directly attached to each testicle. Sorry, I didn’t get a splice job, I got the deluxe reversal surgery.

This brings us to the present.

I am going to see my lady for two months at the end of September. I tentatively plan to return around November 30. On this trip, we will be participating in a “blessing ceremony.” (Something that didn’t happen on the previous trip.) Whether said ceremony is recorded with the government is unknown at present. It is mathematically possible that the annulment will be completed during my stay, which makes recording a possibility.

Anyway, prior to my trip, I wanted to pull out the old test kit and see what the lab in Ogden said. I mailed sample number 3 on Monday of last week. The package was delivered on Thursday. Since I didn’t hear from them on Friday, I was expecting the results on Monday. When the results were zero, they were always followed up by a phone call saying to hang tough, it’s not the end of the road yet, so don’t be discouraged.

Last Sunday night, I got an email from the place in Ogden. Yep, at 8:20 PM on a Sunday night, the test results rolled in.

My first thought was, what the #!@%?

Folks, for the last few weeks, I have been planning when would be the best time to redo the surgery after this report came back with bad news too. Oh, BTW, my answer was January. I even told my girl that redoing the reversal is cheaper than the other alternatives that I’ve seen on the internet. Believe me, I’ve been researching this for a few weeks now. Folks, everyone screams do IVF, but it has some serious ethical issues that I wish to avoid.

Anyway, I got up the nerve to read my reject letter. Most of the first paragraph was even in red letters. This turned out to be boilerplate language about verifying my contact information.  As I continued to scroll down, I saw my name and date of birth. Yep, that’s me and that’s my birthday. Then I kept scrolling. Date of analysis was August 28^th. Yep, Friday. Then was “Total sperm concentration: 7 million/ml.”

BINGO.

Yep, 7 million is a great number for a vasectomy reversal. I reread it. I was shocked. I texted my girlfriend and then select members of the blog staff to share the news.

This guarantees nothing as far a children goes, but it means I can do my part in the process. The reversal I wanted has happened. Folks, a lot more things have to align on the female side before invoking words like “family” but it’s a start. I wanted to promise the possibility of offspring and now I can do that.

God has answered yet another prayer for us. Boy, am I a happy camper.

Final Thoughts

Folks, I know there are a lot of naysayers out there that think I should crawl under a rock somewhere and wait to die of loneliness or old age. For them the thought of someone my age getting into another relationship is preposterous. To them I say, “Go pound sand.”

God put us on this earth to convert the world and exercise dominion over this planet until every square inch acknowledges Christ as King. This was the message of Charlie Kirk. Biblical faith is the long game. Those people waiting around doing nothing as they wait for the Rapture are the useless people wrecking it for the rest of us. Their disbelief is the biggest problem in our society not Democrats, Islam, or socialism.

Charlie Kirk was right and I’d rather go down like him, instead of sitting on my butt watching Fox News and contributing nothing. Family, faith, and hard work are the way out.

My grandfather lived to be 96. My dad is almost 90 and in great health. If I make it as long as either of them, then starting another family is a no-brainer to me.

My last comment is that there is no such thing in the Bible as retirement. We are to work until God takes us home. I choose faith and family over frivolity.

The church that I am attending began a book of the month club this summer. This month’s installment is What is the Gospel? By Greg Gilbert.

The book is only 8 chapters. Much of it is very good and I have no complaints but chapters 6 & 7—which are built on each other—are simply cringe worthy. Chapter 7 is what my math teacher used to call, “error carried forward.” Since chapter 6 is wrong then the premise used to introduce chapter 7 is wrongly stated.

Chapter 1 establishes the Bible as God’s authority

Chapter 2 is God the Creator

Chapter 3 is man’s rebellion

Chapter 4 is Jesus as our substitute

Chapter 5 is our response to God’s offer of salvation

Chapter 6 is about God’s Kingdom.

Chapter 7 is focusing on the gospel

Chapter 8 is entitled “The Power of the Gospel”

Chapter 6 starts out with a lot of promise, but it ends up like a line drive hit that curves foul just as you are rising to your feet to cheer the home run.

The author established that the Kingdom of God is a now thing, not just a future reality. This is a direct rebuttal of the Premillennial Dispensationalist position that claims the Kingdom of God is a future thing because the Jewish leaders in Jesus’ day rejected the offer, so God had to go to Plan B, the Church. This view is unbiblical but widely held by many, including a number of folks in my congregation. The idea that man’s free will can thwart God’s plan is heresy. (More proof Scofieldism is the cultural sin of the modern American evangelical church.)

However, instead of saying that Jesus should be Lord of every area of our lives because God is Savior of the whole man, reversing the curse of creation, he pivots to “me and God are a majority”. The Kingdom of God is reduced from its rightful place to a claim that the Gospel is only concerned with saving your soul. He pivots to some sort of pietism, Gnostic form of salvation, or some strange version of amillennialism.

In the Book of Daniel, the Kingdom is described as a rock that smashes the world empires and grows into a mountain that fills the whole earth. In another chapter Gilbert even quotes the verse about the knowledge of the Lord covering the earth as the waters cover the sea but in the final analysis, he balks at the truth of the Scripture and goes in a wrong direction.

I must attribute this error to the fact that he nowhere mentions that God rules in terms of covenantal institutions. Scripture has at least four governments established by God that he rules through, self-government, family, church, and the state.

Thus, in chapter 7, Gilbert mocks the idea that the Gospel not only transforms individuals but also cultures. Biblical transformation is bottom-up while evangelicals try top-down political change—which is not the same thing.

To quote a book that I read last week, “the Kingdom of God is Christian civilization.” Jesus commands us in the Great Commission to disciple the nations not just individuals. God demands that every area of our life be subject to his Lordship. This includes your family, your job, your spare time, your church, your city, county, province, state, nation. Plus, education, arts, music, media, entertainment, everything.

Jesus is Lord of all. The Gospel is an all or nothing proposition. No part of your life can be held back from Him. The “fair exchange” is only valid if we die to ourselves in everything, only then can he give us his life.

We don’t just add Jesus to our lives the way some career women add a husband to their lives or buy a new pair of shoes. Jesus isn’t here to make your life complete. Such a view is a lie. Jesus is here to make dead people live. That thinking is very foreign to most Americans, even those sitting next to us in church.

Greg Gilbert checks the boxes for what God did for us in salvation, but he totally muffs it in regard to what salvation is all about. The comprehension of what salvation does to individuals, churches, and communities is dismissed as irrelevant in his book. This reduction of Christianity makes salvation some Gnostic, pietistic, or otherworldly thing that doesn’t transform every part of a Christian’s life.

The old saying to “give your heart to Jesus but your ass belongs to the United States Army” is a lie. Jesus claims lordship over the Army too. And not just ours, but every army in every country belongs to him.

Jesus is ruling from heaven, but he rules all the affairs of men and has for a very long time. Gilbert misses this aspect of the Kingdom and reduces it to some ethereal, spiritual thing with no reality in this present world.

Gilbert’s book will get you to the Cross of Christ but not beyond that point; for that you must look elsewhere.

I paid money to see a local attorney about the pit bull killing my dog. They took a pass on any intervention. Ditto with the local police. The pit bull must either attack a human or kill two more animals—along with people filing police reports—or nothing will happen. I was advised to work things out with the owner of the pit bull or take my chances in small claims court.

Even though the pit bull should be put down, nobody will compel the owner to do so. I was told that if the other dog owner pays the vet bill that I’m getting a deal; after all, we’re still neighbors when this all blows over. At best, the lawyer said, maybe they will give me enough money to get another dog.

Folks, I don’t want another dog. I made up my mind about that years ago. However, I thought my puppy friend would grow old and die of natural causes, not unnatural ones.

This trail, mess, or whatever it’s called, is not going how I imagined that it would. I would like restitution and to know that I did something to prevent this from happening again. Neither look likely without going to court. Whether that battle is worth fighting is unknown. Sadly, my only option at present is to wait and see if the pit bull owner makes me an offer.

Update

Sadly, what I wanted and what I got through this ordeal was very different. Shortly after this blog was posted, the owner of the pit bull, Scott, did give me a check for the vet bill for Bobby’s injuries but he offered zero compensation for my actual loss.

While nothing can replace Bobby, during his lifetime we invested several thousand dollars on keeping Bobby cared for, safe, and loved. Again, he was the last part of my marriage with Sheryl that I had left. He was representative of our happy times together wrapped up in fur and four legs. The last part of Sheryl that I had is gone.

My house is cold and empty without him. Every morning I look out the window and see the grave where he was laid to rest. Bobby, thanks for being my puppy friend. I really hope you are with mommy now.

I can’t begin to tell you how much I miss a small boy singing about corgi dogs ten years ago. I miss them both so much, it hurts.

In his book, The Prince, Niccolò Machiavelli famously said that justice cannot be had without money.

The same can be said about Attorney Mario and the legal system that he navigates. Pesos (expended by me) yields progress.

The annulment process for my girlfriend has finally taken a leap forward as measured by every metric that I can find on the subject. Her ex-husband lives outside the country and to check the attempted notification box once and for all, we had to pay for publication of a public notice in a Philippine-based newspaper with an international circulation. This is a statutory requirement under their law. Yes, the law requires an old-school, dead tree variety, newspaper notice. The text and the pricing were provided by the courts.

Contrary to some claims, I’m not made of money. Said money tree in Elk Grove died about 20 years ago. Oh, to be fair, it was really called “the money tree” because it was the smallest tree in the yard (an apricot or peach tree if you need to ask) and our debt at the time was like the largest tree on the property (a lemon tree).

The text that the court wanted published for the public notice was about a 25-page MS Word document saved as a PDF file. The court wanted the notice published twice, once a week, for two weeks. The court provided one bid for the Philippine Star to publish this wonderful document. $2,550. Yep. That’s United States dollars not pesos. I about wet my boxers. I responded “Heck no! That’s way too much.” I asked for other options.

The court then provided two more choices, both for much less money. The next one was about $1,800 and the third was about $1,125. Reluctantly, I paid the money for choice number 3. Western Union put a 4 day hold on the transaction, but it finally went through. Mario was given the money and then for two and a half weeks, nothing but crickets. Early today, Mario responded that the public notice would be run on August 17 and 24^th.

I found a thumbnail of the pages of the August 17^th newspaper online. The public notice took up one entire page. Yep, we paid for two full page ads to blast out the legalese required by the court.

Once the notice runs the second time, the newspaper provides the court with copies of both ads and an affidavit attesting under penalty of perjury that they ran the ads as instructed.

Then the court has two internal boxes to check and then we finally get a court date.

Per the search engine of my choice, the projected timeline for the rest of this legal process is about 8 weeks or roughly the end of October. It is alleged by Attorney Mario that the judge is a stickler and if everything is in order, that the court process will be brief and swift. That would be a refreshing change of pace, if true.

Lastly, I have an agreement to be reimbursed for the annulment process after it is concluded. Gladly, there is little else that requires payment. The witness fees are part of the court process, but I hope at least a few of the scheduled witnesses can be skipped since this is an undisputed proceeding.

Once the annulment process is concluded, then the U.S. immigration process can begin. Option A is about ten months, and Option B is about 16 months. There are pluses and minuses for each. Of course, the choice with the shorter timeline is about $1,000 more and lots more paperwork.

The fourth quarter of 2026 looks to be very interesting.

Yep. It was Wednesday, August 5^th. I got home about 7 PM, grabbed the mailbox key, hooked the leash to my friend, and proceeded to walk to the mailbox. I’ve done this evolution virtually every day for three and a half years.

Last night there was nothing in the mailbox, so we headed home.  We passed two children with sticks. OK, they were more like small branches, that they were hitting on the asphalt. Bobby, my friend, didn’t like the noise so he avoided the children. Then we passed two ladies talking in the middle of the street. As was my habit, I was video chatting with my girlfriend during the walk.

My girl had just handed the phone to her three-year-old niece when I saw him. A pit bull passed me on the left side, almost brushing against my leg, and grabbed my dog by the head and neck. He then shifted to biting my dog’s right rear leg. The pit bull lifted my dog, all 16 pounds, right off the ground. I screamed “Let go” and tried to grab the pit bull on the side of the mouth. No way was I putting my hand inside his mouth; not that there was room.

Someone tried to get the dog to release mine, but it would not. After about four tries, the pit bull released my dog’s leg. As the pit bull let go of my dog I heard someone say, “this is the third time he’s done that.”

I knew the instant that I saw the injury and heard his cries of pain that he wouldn’t make it… but you hope anyway.

I needed to get him to a doctor. I carefully picked the dog up, being sure not to put any pressure on his mangled leg. I made the comment that “I am probably going to have to put him down.”

The dog’s owner said, “I probably will have to do that too.”

I noticed that there was blood across Bobby’s stomach from the teeth puncturing his belly. We started walking home. A man that I never turned to look at, offered me a ride home. I declined and kept walking. 

As we had left the house earlier, I noticed that my neighbors were in the yard. As we started to pass their property on the way home, I called out as loud as I could “Will.” No response. I went a bit further and called again. No response. As I rounded the corner and headed for the driveway I called again. “Will! I need help.” At that point, he came out of his house. As I got closer to him, I said, “Bobby just got attacked by a pit bull. I need help.”

Will and his wife came out to help. His wife got a towel and they had me sit in the passenger seat of their car. The towel was placed in my lap, and then I lowered Bobby gently onto my lap. I was careful not to put any pressure on his leg. Will got his cell phone and I got mine. We tried desperately to find a veterinarian to help—remember all these places are closed after 5 PM. Both local vets were out of town and too far away to help.

As this was going on, Will said that there was a green pickup at my house. I told him that it must be the owner of the other dog. Will spoke with him briefly but I don’t know what was said. Will came back to his house, and we continued dialing for help.

After about 20 minutes of futility, Will found a 24-hour emergency pet clinic. The bad news was that it was an hour and a half driver away. With no other alternatives, we headed to the clinic in Coeur d’Alene, Idaho.

As he got in the car, Will tried to pet Bobby on the head. Bobby yelped. This was where he was first bitten and it hurt him. There was saliva from the other dog on various parts of his head and neck. As we began our journey, I removed his walking harness. Yes, my dog was on a leash and within two or three feet of me when attacked. We were on the opposite side of the street from where the other dog lived.

I found a place to scratch him just behind his front leg. Will had made a comment that Bobby was in shock, and I think he was right. About halfway to our destination, Bobby began panting and his respiration changed. It was subtle but noticeable. After a while his panting stopped. Every once in a while, I had to adjust Bobby because of speed changes and some turns cause his weight to shift slightly. The entire trip he never made a sound; not even a whimper.

And yes, Bobby was always this quiet. Never once in the ten years that we had him as a pet, did he ever bark at another animal that barked at him first. Only once did he ever respond in a defensive manner to any human. The guy that triggered his ire was a smelly, drug addicted, homeless man that jumped out of the bushes and headed towards my wife and I one day back in Elk Grove. Bobby didn’t like that guy, and we felt that his response was justified. Other than the homeless guy, Bobby only wanted to make friends and get tummy scratches. He knew no fear or to be afraid.

Will finally got us to the vet hospital. It was near the Toyota dealer where I had traded Sheryl’s Jeep last year after nobody could fix the vehicle’s death rattle. He let me off at the front door and then went to get a parking place.

I couldn’t open the door enough to get inside. A lady came from behind the counter and opened the door for me. My first surprise was how busy this place was. The majority of seats in the waiting area were filled with other people and their pets. I told the lady that my dog was attacked by a pit bull.

A man came out of the back room to get Bobby. He wasn’t paying attention to Bobby’s injury, and I refused to hand the dog to him. I explained, no, you can’t hold him like that because his leg was injured. It took two tries but finally the guy was willing to hold Bobby in such a way that he didn’t touch the injured leg. I was told they would check his vitals and report back. A short time later I heard him yelp.

Then a long period of time lapsed. Finally, I was asked if I would allow them to give Bobby some pain meds and I agreed. A short time later, they also mentioned x-rays and wanted authorization. I was thinking to myself, it’s about time.

I knew when the x-rays were happening. The sickening and very long yelps from Bobby were unmistakable cries of pain and anguish. Three times he cried out. I was heartbroken. Remember, this was after they gave him pain medicine.

I had kept Will with me most of my time there. I wanted him around for support and also as a witness. He had let me know that this was not his first rodeo when it came to the dogs in his care. He had just had to deal with euthanizing one of his dogs about six weeks ago.

Another long period elapsed. Finally, the verdict was in. The doctor met Will and I in an examination room. He explained Bobby’s situation like this: his leg was not broken, but the hip joint in the pelvic region was a mess. Unlike humans with a ball and socket joint, the dog’s leg is attached by connective tissues, ligaments, muscles, etc. This joint was destroyed. If he set the leg, it would not be enough. It would be easy to come out again. Bobby would need surgery right away with no guarantee of success. If he had the surgery, he would have limited use of the leg and be in pain for the rest of his days. Walking, going up steps, getting into and out of my bed, which were things that happened many times each day, would all be painful and hazardous for him. In short, Bobby would never be the same again.

Oh, the leg setting would be about $2,000 and the surgery would be as much as $6,000. I imagine that there would be other costs as well, but they weren’t discussed. Folks, injuries like this are a financial rabbit hole that most mortals just can’t afford to go down.

In addition, they never checked Bobby for other injuries, but I suspect they could have found them had they checked.

A few months ago, some people in my church discussed this very subject. They ran up a bill for their pet in excess of $11,000 and the pet died despite the extraordinary treatment. Imagine you did all that for your pet, it dies, and you still get to pay the medical bills. Is that the reminder of your Fluffy that you want? I doubt it.

So, I knew what was coming but not the particulars. That was the thing I noticed about my wife’s death as well. You knew the final outcome but the path to get there was unexpected. Life is not the simple, linear progression that you see in movies and popular novels.

After explaining that Bobby’s quality of life would be crap and that I couldn’t really afford to help him, the decision was obvious. But it was mine to make.

My wife made her own decision to end it all when she quit using oxygen and stopped eating. Either would kill her, but both made it a matter of days until her end. At that point it was just a matter of running out the clock. However, this decision about Bobby was on me.

I spoke with Will and then I asked how it would be done. I was told there were two injections and it was quick. I then asked to be with Bobby when it happened. They asked if I needed time with him? I responded just a minute.

Bobby was given an IV setup and then brought into the examination room. The lady had two syringes with her. I petted him on the neck and nose. I told him that I love him. I thanked him for being my friend. I told him that I would miss him. I prayed that God would somehow let Bobby be with Sheryl. He was a blessing to both of us. I noticed that his eyes were very dilated. I was told it was from the previously administered pain killers.

After a quick goodbye, I told the lady that she could give him the injection. Within ten seconds or so, his head went slowly to the table. He went limp. 20 seconds after the injection, Bobby was dead.

She checked him with a stethoscope and confirmed that he was gone. She wrapped Bobby in a clean blanket and brought him to us at the rear entrance to the clinic. It’s not good public relations to see dead animals leaving out the front door of your veterinary clinic, so we couldn’t be seen going that way to get in the car.

I could have had him cremated but I don’t believe in that for people so why do it to my puppy friend? No, I don’t confuse animals with people, but I wanted to honor him for the joy that he brought both of us and especially me after Sheryl died.

Will took Bobby from the lady and carried him to the hatch of his car. Bobby was placed on a soft blanket or something like that. The hatch was closed and we made the hour and one-half trek back to Bonners Ferry. The time was about 11:30 PM.

We arrived just after 1 AM. Will had indicated that he wanted to bury Bobby right then. He said don’t worry, the ground is easy to shovel. As he made the hole, I couldn’t help but think of all the old horror movies where one guy did the digging and the other holding a lantern, watched the fog for movement.

Once the hole was dug, I opened the blanket to get Bobby’s collar. It was easy to tell which end was his head. The body was still warm when I touched it. I closed the blanket back up and then lowered him in the hole about 5 feet from the only tree in my yard. It is an old gnarly apple tree. I silently said a few words over him including thanking God for the gift he had given us in this little dog. I took the shovel and covered the body of my friend. Will tidied up the grave and went home to bed.

I went inside and took a shower. I smelled musky like the excretions of Bobby’s anal glands.  At 2 AM I got into bed. I woke up at 5 AM. I was up for the day.

I could go on, but this is probably a good stopping point for documenting Bobby’s death.

Epilogue

I cried that night and often since because Bobby was the last part of my wife that I had left in my life.

My best friend, my puppy friend, was gone. The last part of my wife was ended. Sheryl is truly and completely gone now. My house is truly empty for the very first time ever. Bobby was the embodiment of all my happy memories with my wife Sheryl stuffed into a loving, furry body with four very short legs. Bobby was my reminder of the happy times in my marriage and also of my son when he was living at home; before he made stupid life choices. Bobby was my companion for the better part of ten years. He went almost everywhere with me except overseas. As the guy behind the camera, there are few, if any, photos of us together.

The vet told me to file a police report about the attack. Being this is rural Idaho; I have no idea if anything results from my complaint but there is a case number logged as a result of the attack. My dad suggested that I contact a lawyer and see if they can get me some compensation for the other guy’s homeowner’s insurance. I don’t know what that is supposed to be, but I did it. I made an appointment yesterday. When you are experiencing the trauma like this and have had only three hours of sleep, you follow what makes sense at the time.

Oh, Will paid the vet bill for me, and I must pay him back. Attorney Mario already picked my pocket this month, so I didn’t have the funds to pay the vet.

I think I told my tale accurately. I’m still suffering from a lack of sleep and the trauma of a most unexpected curveball thrown into my life.

Bobby’s beds, carrier, and toys have been washed. I will be donating most of his stuff somewhere or another in the next couple of days.

I really miss my bed buddy. It is really weird to get the whole mattress to myself. His reputation for hogging the blankets is legendary. He earned the name “chastity dog” because he kept my wife and I on opposite sides of the bed for many years.

Bobby was part of our family from his adoption at the rescue shelter on December 31, 2016, until his murder on August 5, 2026. I love you, my little friend. Well done. Thank you for being part of my life, and that of my family.

In preparation for some future activities, I have started a diet. I have a bunch of clothing in my closet that simply didn’t fit anymore. As stated in previous post, I lost 13 lbs. in July. As August begins, I am continuing to lose more weight. I am finally able to get back into large sizes as opposed to only extra-large. To celebrate I decided to move much of my clothing—the stuff that is way too large—to the closet in the spare room.

As my dog watched on, I emptied all my clothing from one dresser and a few drawers in the other onto the bed for sorting. Except for a small drawer of ties in the first dresser—most from Rush Limbaugh—that dresser is empty.

I am five pounds from the lowest weight that I ever had while being married. I hope to be back to that weight in about two more weeks. Oh, and yes, I plan to keep going even lower. Once I get back to the weight range that I was in while serving in the Navy, I will stop the diet and try to stabilize my calory intake.

Yes, I know that occasionally I take the big risk of telling my readers what has really been going on in my life. Most of my family just read posts like this to find excuses to get mad at me or offer unsolicited criticism. I write this stuff anyway because this is a personal blog and a way for me to record my experiences and feelings.

The following are not in order of priority or chronological order, just stuff that has happened recently.

My best Man from my wedding in 2003, had a heart attack about two weeks ago, and if not for someone present that was medically trained, he probably wouldn’t be on the planet any longer. He had a heart attack on Friday and a quadruple bypass about Tuesday of the following week. He is recovering. A lousy way to celebrate his birthday, but at least he lived to see another year.

One of my other good friends has a father that is approaching the end of his cancer journey, what a euphemism for saying that his dad’s expiration date is coming soon. My friend has a cascading number of difficulties from this and other things happening in his life. My brother, I love you and pray for you frequently. Call if you wanna talk.

My biological son has gone radio silent on me during the last few months. It’s nothing that I did. The woke mind virus has led him to a new religion that can’t tolerate Truth or the idea that God doesn’t make mistakes. He doesn’t answer my phone calls or text messages. His stepbrother says that he is still on the planet and walking upright. I guess Discord counts as proof of life in some circles.

My father-in-law’s girlfriend died a couple months ago. I text him a few times each week and we call about once a week. Sadly, there is little info that I can relay to him about his grandsons. He is keeping busy and adjusting to finding new things to do in life since his GF is gone. He is a likeable guy but is reluctant to yield his life to Christ.

This next one will cause people’s heads to explode. I offered yesterday to adopt a three-year-old child. Yep, really. Father is a gangbanger and mom is stuck as the sole supporter of both the husband and her child. Any money he gets reportedly goes to support his activities with friends including his use of illegal narcotics. (No word whether he likes spending her money on pepperoni pizza for his friends.) Yep, I’m leaving out lots of details but I’m offering mom and child both a new start in life. Understandably, she is reluctant to give up the child but it’s one of the few ways to deny her husband a claim on the child at any time in the future.

I have plans to use my passport later this year to see my girlfriend. Just be aware that my Facebook status is a lagging indicator of where things are in our relationship. ICE will be delivered but I need to pick up the pace in accumulating the 13 coins required to move things along. Oh, special note to Greg, it will take more than a basket of papayas to resolve the situation on this trip. I may need to trade her dad a cow.  (-: Yep, there is a backstory for these comments.

A few weeks ago, I almost got put on alert for evacuation due to a nearby fire. I was having flashbacks to the Paradise fire due to the wind and smoke that was hitting my area. I had half of the suitcase packed and a mental list of stuff to load in the car on the way out of town. The combination of wind and smoke drove the visibility to under a mile. I did plan to leave room in case I needed to get someone else across the bridge and away from the fire. The evacuation zone was three miles from my house. The size and amount of ash on the ground the following day was memorable. Only one structure, a barn, was reported lost. Lots of folks were evacuated to the fairgrounds right across the river from me.

My leak in the water filtration system is back again. It’s a cheap Chinese part that is used for air draws during the self-cleaning cycle that is run each day. The leak rate is steady at one drop every six seconds. Said leak is manageable, but I have no idea if it will get worse over time. I lack funds for repair until mid-August. It’s at least a three hour round trip for the service guy to drive here and back.

I applied for an absentee ballot for the November election. Ballots will be mailed on September 18. Plenty of time to do my civic duty.

I also made some changes to my will. Yep, exciting stuff. New executor and a new beneficiary, recipient, or whatever added. What’s that line from Star Wars about, “I am altering the deal. Pray I don’t alter it any further.” I will look again at revisions in 2027. The Trust will probably get a huge rewrite to reflect life choices.

Also, I am enjoying the wonders of another diet. Depending on what I use as a baseline, I can claim to have lost 13 pounds thus far in July. I’m five pounds away from tying my lowest weight in the last 30 years. I plan to keep going for a few months and see where I end up.

Oh, I am retiring my wife’s cell phone next week. It requires charging every four to six hours of use. The internal app claims the battery is fine, but it is not working as it should. I’m getting my first foldable phone. I hope I like it. I also got the new watch to go with it. I really like my Garmin, but it can’t tell when I’m awake or asleep. If I watch a movie before bedtime, it counts it as sleep time. If I’m awake at night it still counts it as sleep. Texting, chatting, and any other use of the phone in the middle of the night counts as sleep time. When I wake up in the morning and check my cell phone, it counts as sleep time until I literally remove the Garmin watch from my wrist.

Lastly, Bob, the love dog, is getting older and a bit slower. We still do two walks a day. Some mornings we go outside for bonus time in the yard. I don’t have a fence around the property, so I have to keep an eye on him or he wonders off.

Anyway, that gives you an idea of my summer thus far.

Oh, one last story. A random kid (about 20 years old) dropped by the church on a Thursday afternoon a few weeks ago. Thursday night I attend a Bible Study at the church. The guy leading the study is on staff at the church. The young man attended the Bible study. Following it’s conclusion, the leader announced that the kid needed a place to stay. It was one of those times when I knew it was my turn to do something, so I stepped up. I put the kid up in a hotel room.  At the time I was grumbling to God about the cost but did it anyway. The following Thursday, I learned the rest of the story.

The next week, the kid was at the Bible study with his wife and young child (about 7 months old). This is what happened as a result of me putting him in the hotel.

The Thursday night that I put him up in the hotel was literally the first night for the new managers of the hotel. As a result of me ponying up some money for one night at a hotel, the kid got a job working at the hotel. They even provided him with a place to live. Now he has his wife and son living with him. He is attending our church, and as an added bonus, the owners of the hotel are also attending our church. Wow.

When God tells you to do stuff outside of the box, go for it or miss a blessing that you can’t foresee.

This is another wild blog to write.  You likely read my blog about dating in 2026, well this puts a whole new spin on the relationship world these days.  Full disclosure: I am not married nor ever have been. 

This story starts with a very good friend of mine in a volunteer group. We were talking about relationships at an evert and my friend told me I need to put myself out more.  Likely out of concern but also that the older you get the more, uh let’s say baggage, appears in the dating scene.  His wife agreed. While their suggestion was for me to get a puppy which probably could work, except that I am gone from the house for about 12-14 hours a day, making that a nightmare scenario for fido.  So, their next suggestion was that I wear his wedding band when I’m out and about.  I at first thought the suggestion was kind of gay in nature, like would a girl let another girl wear their lingerie, seems odd?  But I said I would do it, somewhat regrettably.  Disclosure: my friend and his wife are not swingers they are married with 2 very young children.

So, heeding their advice, I wore my buddy’s wedding band to my gym at my next work out.  Boy was I reluctant but did it anyway.

Wow!

The results were unworldly.  I had two women openly hit on me while I was on the treadmill.  Oh, and I don’t consider a girl smiling or saying “hi” hitting on me by the way.  A third women gave me her phone number while I was at the squat rack.  While outside at the pool area doing farmer carries, two other women openly were hitting on me.  While laying out at the pool after working out, a “cougar” (I put her at around age 55) actually was openly propositioning me asking if I wanted some action.  I don’t know her motives, but I think the outside family bathroom (thanks Gavin!) locks from the inside, and we could have smashed there. 

Contrast this to my normal workouts, I have never, in 20 plus years of going there for my workouts, been hit on, at all. 

This was a wild ride that day. (OK “ride” might not be the best choice of words but anyway) for 1.5 hours I felt like an N’Sync or Backstreet Boys singer (I’m dating myself here. I know another sketchy word choice).  But to be honest, the women hitting on me made it clear that they weren’t wanting or desiring to be girlfriend material. 

This was during my work hours from 3:00-4:15 PM, so I believe this group to be stay-at-home mom/wife types.  These women were looking for a hook up, or maybe sex on the regular because they aren’t getting much or any from their husband.  All of these women expressing interest were definitely very attractive. I guess these babes were from a group that felt that “he is a married man and maybe I was looking for action on the side with a no tell agreement.”  I have no idea.  I will add cougar lady was very attractive and I did think she was going to, at one point, pull her bikini bottom to the side and offer to get it on in the cabana I was sitting in.

Oh, I didn’t wear the ring the following week…. Nothing but silence from the coeds.

The Chief