I came down with a migraine headache yesterday just as I was preparing to take the dogs for a walk. Victoria was very understanding, July less so. I think if I broke my leg, July might bring me her leash and try to drag me out the door.

I should take this opportunity to thank my parents for all the trouble I must have caused them. I'm sure I was far more stubborn and less forgiving than my poodle. Everything I know about parenting, I learned from my poodle.

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For most of this week, Atlanta was snowed under. We had ample warning that the storm was coming, but a delayed response by the state government and the Department of Transportation caused thousands of commuters to be trapped in their cars for 19 hours or more. Some children had to spend the night trapped in their school buses!

Georgia Governor Nathan Deal blamed the National Weather Service despite their predictions being remarkably accurate as far as 12 hours before the storm arrived. Adding insult to injury, the Georgia Emergency Management Agency Director said that GEMA didn't respond to the crushing gridlock for more than 3 hours because "it wasn't as gridlocked as it is now."

That's Georgia's government for you: we can't read a weather report and we don't open our umbrellas until we are already soaking wet.

But not everyone has been unhappy about the weather's effects. July and Victoria have spent as much time as I will let them outside playing in the snow.

I think it's funny that they hate rain but love snow. I've tried to explain to them that snow and rain are pretty much the same thing, but they don't listen. They never listen.

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Christmas Eve 2013: we fried a turkey.

Before, during, and after pictures above. It was easier than I thought, but I overcooked it, turning the skin into a nearly impenetrable shell. The meat inside was still juicy and tasty, and I consider the entire exercise a success simply because I didn't burn myself or blow anything up.

The dogs liked it more than I did.

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When I was a kid, it used to bother me to wake up and find one of my parents watching me sleep.

I get it now.

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Mom has spent a lot of effort hanging and properly seeding feeders in the back yard in order to lure birds, especially cardinals, goldfinches, and nuthatches. Mom is happy with the results, but she's not the only one.

Victoria has noticed that the bird feeders attract squirrels. And squirrels attract Victoria.

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On Monday, May 13, I took in Rambo while his daddy was in Florida.

Rambo is a good dog, but he's significantly younger than the girls. He loves to play. All. The. Time. It can be a bit draining.

Rambo wasn't any trouble for me or the girls (he never is), but he doesn't get along with Teddy. Too bad that I had already promised to keep Teddy while his daddy was in Florida! There wasn't supposed to be any overlap, but Rambo's dad was delayed temporarily with a broken transmission.

Teddy is generally docile, but he hates to share "his" territory with Rambo. I think that the problem is that both boys still have all of their original parts (if you know what I mean). Rambo and Teddy have gotten into a fight before, sending Teddy to the animal hospital with puncture wounds. It was readily apparent when Teddy arrived that he hadn't learned from the experience.

Fortunately, I only had to keep the two in separate rooms for 12 hours before Rambo went home. Unlike Rambo, Teddy could generally care less about the girls. This is both good, in that he isn't always pestering them to play, and bad, in that he takes their spaces and destroys their routines without any consideration for the fact that it really is their house.

Well, Teddy has finally gone home, too, and the girls finally got their house back. They wasted little time before starting their celebration.

I bet they sleep for a week.

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Yesterday the girls had their annual checkup and vaccines. July got a clean bill of health. Victoria, on the other hand, has a "raised dermal mass on the skin below the commisure of the lips on the left side of the mandible," "gingival recession [on the] upper left second premolar... which is allowing thicker tartar to develop on the cranial root," and "mild crepitance palpable in her right knee." (My vet could have been in an episode of ER.) In layman's terms, Victoria is starting to get old.

I'll take this opportunity to notify my loyal readers that starting this month I'll be posting 3 poodle comic strips a month instead of 2. That's an extra 12 strips a year! (If Mom had her way, this blog would be nothing but poodle strips, but then where would I post about Batman or football?) I'll aim for posting a new strip every 10 days starting Friday, so pay attention.

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August Victoria.

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My poodle strip from November 11, 2011 has been included on page 36 of the August 2012 "Special Issue -- Focus on Health" newsletter of the Poodle Club of Canada. Poodles and Wriphe.com? Those Canadians have some great tastes.

That strip was specifically a reference to Victoria's inability to wag her tail in any consistent motion. Sometimes side-to-side, sometimes clockwise, sometimes up-and-down, sometimes counterclockwise... there's no pattern. I think that's one of the reasons she likes to lie sideways on the floor. That way, the floor becomes a tail guide.

Anyway, so an online newsletter for poodle breeders in a foreign country. I suppose that this technically makes me a published cartoonist. Whoo-hoo! It's only a matter of time until they back up dump trucks of cash to my door, right? Right? Aw, shucks.

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Returning to my neighborhood following an errand yesterday, I was surprised to see a single woman walking an entire pack of dogs down the street. As I approached, I noticed that two of the dogs were standard poodles, one white and one black. Those sure look like my dogs, I thought. It turns out that they were.

As I stopped the Jeep, I could see that the woman was walking her black Labrador on a leash. Following her were several dogs of various sizes. All wore collars, but none wore a leash. And all of them belonged to my family. I asked the lady, "What are you doing with my dogs?"

Her response was simply, "I figured they must belong to somebody." Unless she knows some way to teach poodles to groom themselves, that's a pretty safe assumption.

My July and Victoria quickly recognized me and willingly jumped into my car. (Although I think they probably would have jumped into just about anyone's car. They love car rides.) Leslie's two dogs were next: Charlie accepted my help up into the Jeep, but Rudy, recognizing my intent, sprinted back home at top speed, refusing to surrender his new found freedom.

I eventually returned home and wrangled the mass back into my yard. It turns out that my mother and brother had put the animals in the yard mere minutes earlier, unaware that the gate to the driveway had been left open. They both got a piece of my mind -- a loud, angry piece.

At least no one was lost or hurt. And the dogs got a taste of adventure. Hopefully, it was enough to last them a lifetime, because I don't plan to duplicate that mistake.

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