SNAGLEY snagley SNAGLEY or (TRI SNAG)

Fishing with my Uncle and cousin when I was a kid.

My great uncle would invite me and my cousin to fish with him one week a year when I was a kid. My cousin and I were a handful separately together we were horrible. I will give you the scenario of one such outing.

5:00 am Aunt Ruby gets us kids up we are 7 years old. We get dressed and she feeds us breakfast. Uncle John is out in the yard getting his boat ready. He got up at 3:00am and took his camper to the lake and drove back. Benny and I get up slip outside and rig the garden hose to squirt whoever turns on the water. Uncle John who is in his late 60s walks over and turns on the water and is doused to the skin. We watch as he dances his large self around and turns off the water. He never said a word, he just went inside mumbling to his self about kid now days and changes clothes, he then comes back outside. Benny and I have, of course, reset the hose. Uncle John is too smart for us this time and disarms the booby traps before using the water.

Then he loads the two of us up in the back of his ancient station wagon and we head for the lake. We fish from before daylight to about noon and catch a bunch of fish. Then we head back for a lunch of Vienna sausages and beanie weenies. I then climb into the boat and throw up. I did not feel sick; I did not show any signs before hand. But now uncle John has to clean Snagley barf out of the boat.

We go fishing again after the barf is cleaned up, again catching a bunch of fish. We get back to camp about 6:30 and have a rousing supper of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.
We start a charcoal fire for some unknown reason and sit around it telling stories of fish and snakes and days of yore. This is the best part of fishing. I have found in recent years the experience can be enhanced by cigars and beer, but for a young Snagley that is as good as it gets. I still can sit on the bank of a lake and remember that night and the stories with unreal clarity 30 years latter.

We get ready for bed. Benny is sleeping on a bunk perpendicular and above Uncle John. I am sleeping on a table. I wake up the next morning to the smell of fried bacon and fried fish. I look up and Benny is tied to his bed. I find out latter that he fell off the bed twice so Uncle John lashed him to his bed.

I walk out and look at the sad remnants of the nights fire and touch my little toe on my foot to one of the old charcoals. When I stop screaming I had a blister on my toe about the size of a grape. I then walk over to the boat and barf in the boat again. To this day I still do not know why I chose the boat to barf in, but it did give Uncle John something good to talk about for the next couple of hours.

In the rest of the week Benny steps on a snake. Wasps sting me. Uncle John while trying to pee out of the boat falls out of the boat. He blames it on kids shaking the boat. The boat motor stops about 4 miles from the camp and we have to paddle and use the trolling motor to get back to camp, taking about 4 hours.

On the way home Benny and I got to ride in the fire truck back to the house after the station wagon caught fire. It was an awesome trip. I have tried to recreate this trip several times with no success.
And really folks this story is true.

Odd weekend.

I helped my cousin clean out his fathers fishing shed. Yes it was a shed full of fishing stuff. His father loved to fish and talk about fishing. He was my mother’s first cousin who died not long ago. I had not done this before and it was odd dividing up his stuff. It was like reading someone’s diary and then tearing out pages and handing them to someone else to keep. I took home dozens of fishing rods and 10 or 12 tackle boxes full of stuff.

In other news. I finished the hen house except for adding the tin roof. I have a plywood roof covered with tarpaper. I have thus far collected 4 eggs. That’s right thrill seekers; one of my hens has started laying eggs. I have not found a home for Fuzzy Britches yet, and will have to find one soon.

I watched Bull Durham this weekend. That is a great movie. Some excellent quotes in that one. My favorite is “The world is made for people who are not cursed with self awareness”. I may have that added to my business cards.

I have always had a crush on Annie Savoy. She is the one played by Susan Sarandon. I do not have a crush on Susan Sarandon, only the character she played in the movie.
Annie is
1. A woman who still wears stockings with garters even when she does not expect anyone to see them.
2. A woman who is brimming with the utmost over confidence but does deem herself better than the next, and is not a know it all
3. You got to love the transcendental overtones that are present all through the movie. How she mixes eastern philosophies, and quantum physics, but ignores any negation between the two.
4. She has lived long enough to be interesting.
5. She still uses unscented candles, I hate scented candles.
6. She tied up Nuke and read poetry to him.

I remind my wife that since I am committed to monogamy and am deeply in love with her she has nothing to worry about. Besides she loves the movie Tin Cup and I think she has a crush on the Costner character in that movie.

I found out that my wife inherited 25 acres yesterday. That brings the grand total up to 50 that she has inherited. We went down to her grand parents house for thanksgiving. They asked us if we would like to go and see it. We did not have a clue as to what she was talking about. They explained that her grandfather had inherited some land and he deeded it to us instead of keeping it. The taxes on the land are 184.00 annually so I think we can handle it. It has a pond on that her grandfather dug years ago. So I now have a place to go fishing.

In other news, my family came down for thanksgiving and they all went to my brother’s house. We have to do the switch ever other year so we did not get to visit with them. And as you all know, I have to work today so I will not get to visit today.

The hen house is about finished I will be able to put chickens in it Sunday if I actually get to work on it.

My cousin died last year. I posted about it. He loved to fish and such. Tomorrow I have to go with his son and help clean out his fishing shed. We will divide up his possessions. I don’t know how I feel about this yet. On one side I am looking forward to it, and am honored that they would think of me. On the other hand, it reminds me that we are far too mortal, and I wonder what will become of all my junk when I kick the bucket. I need to start a will. Happy happy joy joy.

Also, as this is black Friday, the most heinous shopping day of the year, I do want everyone to know the only way I would go shopping today is if someone were paying me $10,000.00 to take free stuff from a sporting goods store. Otherwise, I have no intention of braving the madness. I am broke anyway.If anyone has a spare $10,000.00 and wants me to take some free stuff please email me at Bosnagley@gmail.com serious offers only.

Chucks gate

I wanted to document the events of the day so that they will be saved for posterity and as a record should any disagreements arise in the future regarding the incident of the gate.

First I arrive at 9:00 bright and early. I knock on he door, no answer. I then call Chucks cell phone, no answer. I can see his car in his driveway so I know he is there. I call his home phone. He answers.
Chuck Hello
Me Chuck, come open the dang door I am freezing out here.
Chuck Who is this?
Me Its me, Snagley come open the door.
Chuck Ok ok don’t get your knickers in a bunch.

Chuck then comes to the door wearing a pair of suit pants a white shirt tie and a matching suit vest. His manhood is hanging out the fly of his pants. He has a sizeable dip of snuff in his lip and is spitting the juice into an empty gallon orange juice jug. I am used to Chuck exposing himself so I choose to ignore him. He fixes me a cup of coffee and we discuss the day. At some point I become too disgusted to continue so I tell him to put that thing away it is making me sick
Chuck apologizes and puts his spit jug in the cabinet. I Said “ Dang it Chuck zip your pants”.
He looks down and acts surprised and zips his pants. Then without speaking he wanders off into the laundry room and pulls some clothes out of the hamper and gets dressed.
He is wearing a pair of Capri pants and a flannel shirt. I, of course, made him put on some other pants and we load up and go to Lowe’s to buy the supplies for the gate.

At Lowes, Chuck gets into an argument with the guy in the lumber department. He wants to buy a portion of lattice instead of a full sheet. We load up my truck and head back to Chuck’s house.
I unload the truck and start building the gate. Chuck disappears for about 10 minutes and returns with a chair and a box of double stuff Oreos. He is dipping his Oreos in milk and munching without even offering me one.

I finish the gate. Chuck begins complaining about how he has a splinter in his blogging finger and how it will hinder his computer use during his work hours. I offer to remove the splinter with my saw but he declines my generous offer.
Chuck now wants to take me to lunch. He has to change clothes again because he has milk and Oreo crumbs all over his shirt.

We go to ruby Tuesdays and I eat ribs. Chuck has a salad and some boneless buffalo wings. We drink a cold beer and call it a day.

Any other story is merely hearsay and should not be trusted.

When I was in high school I became aware that my butt was not my own. I remember I was in the 7th grade. I had just finished setting off a cherry bomb in the administration office when I felt this large hand on my shoulder. It was our school’s football coach. He looked at me and said, “Your butt is mine”. He then took me to his office and said he could call my parents and have me brought up before the honor committee and have me suspended or expelled, or I could take some “licks with his paddle. As I sat there contemplating the beating I was soon to receive I wondered when my butt would be mine again.

The second day I was at college. I met a young woman that I found to be interesting as well as an excellent conversationalist, it also helped that she was wearing a profoundly short skirt that showed off her yellow underpants whenever she reached up for anything. We were in the library; I asked her for a particular book that I held my great interest it happened to be on a high shelf.
Her name was Lola. She was chewing a large wad of gum. She looked at me and said. "If you just want to see my panties ask. This climbing up and down this damn ladder is killing me". So we found a nice secluded spot on the top floor of the library she showed me her panties, which I found to my liking. She took out her chewing gum stuck it on the wall, we then proceeded to make out with reckless abandon. Then I heard a voice it was Dean Wilkerson the dean of men. He looked at me and said “Son your butt is mine. Lola said what was your name anyway. I said, “Just call me Snagley” Dean Wilkerson explained that I while I thought the floor to be abandoned there was a large group of alumni that had been watching from the window. The Dean had been leading the tour until Lola and I took over. For the next two weekends I picked up other peoples refuse from the ground surrounding the building that the deans office resided in, I would stop now and again to wave to Lola who was dusting the top shelves in the deans office. I realized at that point that my butt still was not my own.

After numerous dead end jobs where I still was not in possession of my butt. I got married and signed over possession of my butt for an even longer period. I have since decided that since most the pain in my life seems to involve my butt maybe I am better off without it anyway.

Well I thought I would give you an update on the afore blogged Hen, fuzzy britches.
I put her in a cage so that she could bulk up and rehabilitate. And I discovered she is blind in one eye. This explains all the weird looks that she gives me tilting her head to one side. I went out this morning and found one of my Roosters dead. It had no marks on it at all and last night it was in fine health. One of the boys threw a persimmon into the chicken coop, I am wondering if he choked on a seed.

Boy #2 and I had the barf virus this weekend. Fun, fun, joy, joy.

Some weirdo had his car expire in our yard this weekend. I walked down there to check on him. He acted as if he were an escapee from an ultra max prison. He said he wanted in my house to use the phone, he actually said “I need in your house”. I wear a cell phone 97.2% of the time had had one then that he said he did need it, but said he needed to go in the house.
I told him that hell had not frozen over quite yet. I checked it our and he was out of gas. I gave him enough gas to make it about a mile to a filling station. I seriously think this guy was up to something. But ain’t nobody going in my house that I don’t know, who also seems insane. If he tries to break in while I am not there my wife will kill him. I would hate for her to do it, but I know she would. Snagley Acres can be a dangerous place for lunatic strangers when Mamma Snagley has kids around she is protective.
I once saw her shoot an oil can off of a stump at 50 yards with a pistol.
If your wife can shoot an oilcan off of a stump at 50 yards, you might be a red neck.

In other news, I am still on to build Chuck a gate this weekend; we should have at least one good story out of that. Hopefully some pictures too.

I will be on vacation for the rest of the week. So unless someone feels charitable and wants to do a guest post things will be slow on the Snagley blog this week.
Hopefully I will have some new stories to tell next week.
Snagley out.

This morning I had my kids get up and go next door to my parent’s house. I told them to wish my Dad a happy veterans day and thank him for fighting in a war for them (WWII).
They will call my brother this evening and thank him for his service in Vietnam.

On to the picture
This news clip has an interesting story. And this one contains no fiction.
He was captured as a WWII POW 5 days after shipping overseas. He was captured in France. He was one of 4 out of 150 men who survived to be captured. They killed so many enemy soldiers that when the tank rolled up and pointed its cannon down the front of the farmhouse they were holed up in they could not walk out without stepping on enemy dead.
At the end he and his buddies were fighting with enemy weapons having run out of ammo for theirs.. Before they came out they were careful to throw them away before the Germans saw them, for fear of being shot as spies.
He developed appendicitis in the German POW camp and was operated on by an English officer, who was a surgeon, without any anesthetic. Two days latter they were liberated. He spent months in different hospitals before he was sent home. He left 6’ 180 returned 5’ 10 120.
He came home and rehabilitated as much as people could back then. He and his wife moved onto a houseboat at a lake and generally partied as much as they could. He was in his mid thirties by now.
Then their boat caught on fire and he was caught in the boat and was burned horribly on his leg sustained a burn on his leg about the size of a grapefruit that never properly healed. This was long before proper burn care was developed. He never truly recovered.
In spite of this he was always happy to see me when I arrived 15 years latter. He was always smiling. But I remember him always being unnaturally thin.
He died when I was 10. At the time he had 3 kids and 5 grand children. One of his kids was killed in an automobile accident waiting to be shot into space as an astronaut before his 30th birthday, he is buried at Arlington.

Happy Veterans Day Uncle Ed. I wish you were alive so I could tell you in person.

I am driving down the road one day in rural Alabama, a dog ran out in front of my truck and I ran over it. I saw the dog in my rear view mirror run underneath a house, so I turned around and drove back to the house to tell the owner what happened.

As I pull up I notice that the house is in an advanced stage of depreciation. Each corner of the house is held up by a stack of bricks without mortar or cement. There is no underpinning on the house so the entire house is suspended on only bricks and the house has no paint. I walk up to the porch and three kids are sitting on the porch eating a bucket of chicken. I ask them if a parent is home. One of them jumps down off of the swing and runs in the house. He comes back out a second latter and says. Daddy coming. He then climbs back up on the swing with his brothers and starts eating chicken again.

Out comes Daddy. He is pulling up the strap on his overalls and is barefoot. He has a lit cigarette in his mouth and an unopened beer in his left hand with the plastic rings still on it. He shakes my hand without a word and looks around as if looking for damage or trying to decide where he is.

I said. “I just ran over your dog. “

He said, “ What did he look like?”

Me “Brown “

Him “Where is he now.”

Me “Under your house, I don’t know what kind of shape he is in. I wanted to let you know what happened

Him “Bobby get the dog out from under the house”

Bobby jumped off of the swing as if he were shot off of it. He ran down the steps and shot himself under the house. There was a lot of barking and yelping as Daddy smoked his cigarette and opened his beer and took a sip.
Bobby emerged from under the house pulling the dog by his back leg. Bobby held the dog down by his collar while we looked the dog over. It appeared that I only ran over his tail, which was broken and hanging by a piece of skin. The dog was yelping and straining to get away.

Daddy stepped on the end of the dog’s tail and said “Bobby let her aloose”. Bobby let go of the collar and the dog dashed back under the house leaving the broken part of his tail behind.
Daddy then took one last drag on his cigarette flicked it into the street shook my hand and went back inside the house.
I got in my truck and went home.

Never a dull moment.

Today I am wearing some socks without holes. They are still dress socks but I don’t have that feeling like my world is not at peace.

In other news. Next Friday I am going to help Chuck build a gate for his deck. In exchange he has promised me two bottles of wine and lunch. I am defiantly getting the better of this deal. I expect to actually spend about 30 minutes on the gate.

I have this one hen, her name is Fuzzy Britches. She is a bit under developed mentally. But she is the sweetest hen I have. She permits children to hold her and pet her with no pecking or problem. The dilemma is that she is so afraid of the other chickens she will not get off the roost. If she does the roosters try to breed with her and she freaks out. I don’t want to cull her from the flock because I have grown fond of her. But I don’t want her living like a stupid chicken all of her life. My wife is trying to find a petting zoo that would like a friendly chicken. The kids want me to build Fuzzy her own pen. I may have to. If I serve her for supper I will have to spend dollars on child therapy and that makes building a one chicken pen look like a bargain.

Next weeks vacation plans are as follows

Finish clearing fencerow.
Finish Hen house.
Go to farm sale in Clanton. (A farm sale is like a big flea market only with farm stuff instead of cheap watches and B.S. like that).
Fix the lawn tractor. It has water in the gas.
Build Chuck a gate.

At work my project is to find a way to add 54000.00 dollars in additional annual income for our company. I think I found a way. I hope to implement it on 12-1-2005.

And last but not least. In an attempt at spreading good will. I am going on a temporary hiatus from abusing Chuck. I shall say only good things about him and his floor. At least I will until it gets really boring anyway
Snagley out.

(picture added latter)

I got nothing today. NOTHING.
At work I got into a shouting match with another departmental manager. Not the first time there.
I am taking 4 days off next week. Can’t wait for that. That will total out my vacation days for the year.
I have holes in my socks and my big toes are hanging out of my sock on each foot. It is sort of unsettling. I hate dress socks. Until about 6 months ago we had a more casual dress code at work. I hate dressing up with a passion. If I could I would wear blue jeans and boots every day for the rest of my life. So I have to wear these dang dress shoes.
Shortly after this dress code my wife explained to me that I would have to wear dress socks. Men’s dress socks are an abomination they are too thin to be comfortable and they wear out too fast.

I know with all that Dick is talking about on his blog what with the beheadings and war and pestilence and such, do dress socks really matter. Well of course not. But I still have two holes in my socks and I am way to busy to buy more, and too forgetful to ask my sweet wife to get me some more. Of course I am not too busy to post this insipid piece of tripe on my blog.

Snagley out.

P.S. any requests?????

I teach kids 4-year-old Sunday school at my church.(Yeah what of it) Yesterday there were 11 kids there, 9 girls and 2 boys. My daughter is one of them. We feed them pizza for a snack pretty much lunch for most of them. The parents like it and so do the kids. There is one kid who brings her own lunch, a zip lock bag full of bacon.

I know this was on a sitcom once but this is real.

I said “hey kid, what did you have for breakfast this morning

Kid “bacon”

Me “ what else”

Kid “glass of water”

Me “what did you eat for supper last night”

Kid “Bacon” and some ice cream.

Me “I see. Well here color this picture, we will use it for today’s lesson.”

My kids were finicky eaters. But hells bell a 4-year-old kid with a diet of only bacon. Give me a break.
Later the parents come in.

Me Hi kids mom. Kid tells me that all she eats is bacon.

Kids Mom “yeah that is about it except for ice cream.”

Me I see. Well here is your kid’s stuff from our lesson today. I enjoy having her in the class bring her back next week. Sorry about all the lipstick all over her face one of the girls smuggled in a lipstick and before I could confiscate it they had all decorated themselves like bozo the clown. You should have seen it before I cleaned her up.

Kids Mom “Oh well girls will be girls”

Me “Yup”

I am mister sympathetic to parents. I know that this Mom loves her daughter and you can tell by looking at her that she is not mistreated.
Bacon the other white meat?

When my boy#2 was 4 years old my wife spent the night somewhere else, I don’t remember why, but I was stuck with 6, 4 and 2 year olds at home. I am a great fry cook and made bacon and eggs. My four year old ate 2 home made biscuits 3 scrambled eggs and 4 strips of bacon. The kid likes to eat. Jo took him to the doctor the other day for his poison ivy. The kid lost 3 pounds since his last visit. I have seen the kid eat an entire buffalo and he looses 3 pounds. The doctor did not seem to think it was a big deal so I don’t either.

In other news, Chuck wont return my calls. I was planning to build him a gate this weekend, which is hard to do when he will not return my calls.

Finally and this is it for today. I am out of coffee at work. It looks to be a long day.

This is my grandmother and my aunt or cousin or something like that. I have never met her. Some kind of odd falling out between familys before I was born. It is a shame that they dont know my kids. That building in the background is my workshop. the area to the right is where the chickens reside now.
Snagley acres 50 years ago.

boring post but it should get us all through the weekend.

This post is to show that i actually did do work on vacation.

You can see the walk that i built for my parents. the off level block was the work of my brother on a prior day.

The fence row was 20 feet wide and about 75 yards long it took me 3 days with a axe, hatchett, and a lawn tractor.

and last but not least the hen house that i am building. I ran out of money and had to stop.

So Snagley is capable of labor.

Slept in a cave. Yup I did.
Loads of fun this cave sleeping. I did it with 14 cub scouts. Yup in a cave.
The kids loved it. We got to go in and get a special tour. It was a cool tour we got a laser light show and this girl showed us the entire place. Then she took us to the bottom of the cave and said ok this is where you sleep, don’t litter I will be back at 6:30 to take you to breakfast. Cub Leader Snagley said “be sure there is lots of coffee”.

We spread out and started setting up our sleeping stuff. I had to work late so I asked my wife to pack sleeping bags and such. She packed my normal bag for son #1 and packed my artic bag (the artic bag is rated at 20 degrees below 0) for me. If you have never been in a cave it is profoundly humid and the temp stays at 63 degrees an artic sleeping bag would make for a miserable night. The cubs played hid and seek which was all right. Each cub was required to bring along a parent or guardian so Cub leader Snagley did not have to baby-sit all of the kids. The kids were quickly covered with a thick layer of sweat and true to their natures they stunk like a skunks butt. One of the dads offered to have devotion so we did that and went to bed. Cub Leader Snagley said lights out and turned off the lights. 14 different flash lights clicked on. It was pretty cool, and again the kids were having a blast. Then night sleep started. Cub Leader Snagley was sleeping on a cot with no cover. Cub Leader Snagley could not sleep.

In caves water constantly drips. We all had spread out tarps to keep us off the wet floor. The water dripping on the tarps went BLOOP BLOOP BLOOP. Cub Leader Snagley’s nerves began to fray.

Then the snoring began. One of the dads must have one of those deviated septum things, he began to shake the stalactites. Seriously I could not believe the noise coming out of the guy. I went over to check him out. He had built this tarp roof to keep the BLOOPS off of him. Cub Leader Second Class Huggcliff came over to me and said something has to be done. I went out to the truck and got a funnel. One of those that has the thing on the bottom that you can bend. I rigged it at the top of his tarp so that it would collect water and pointed the bottom part of the funnel at his face. The dude never woke up the entire time I duct taped the funnel to his tarp. Then Huggcliff and I pulled up some chairs to watch and see what happened. We were taking bets on what would happen and eating sunflower seeds and trying not to laugh out loud.

After several BLOOPS one made it though the funnel and onto his face just south of his bottom lip. Nothing happened, he did not even make a change in his snoring. I now owe Cub Leader Second Class Huggcliff a dollar. I go back out to the truck and get a garden hose and cut off a section of it and duct tape it to the funnel put the other end just above his mouth. Then sit down to wait. Cub Leader Second Class Huggcliff and I make our bets. Our actions have drawn the attention of several other Cub Leaders Second Class we all place our bets and then after about 10 BLOOPS a drop finds its way to the funnel to the hose and to his face. Direct hit in his mouth. He gags snorts and blows but never wakes up. I collect 6 dollars from the Cub Leaders Second Class, gloat and then settle down for further bets. After I clean them all out we turn in and go to sleep.

About 5:00 in the morning I am awoken to a loud GAG, SNORT WHEEZE AND BLOW. Several cubs woke up and saw the chairs we set up around Snore Dad and the contraption connection to Snore Dads shelter. They all are sitting around while Snore Dads son pours Grape Soda down the funnel. Snore Dad never wakes up. We videotaped it for posterity.
From there the rest of the trip was fun but not as eventful. The moral of this story is.

Don’t trust your kids.

Animals gone wild

As some of you might know, the Snagley family has a multitude of animals. We have three cats, a dog, 4 roosters and 17 hens. One of our cats Lucy and Patsy the beagle went into heat this last week. First off cats seem to be somewhat discrete in their lovemaking, and it seems to last only seconds. Dogs on the other hand……..

First off we don’t want any more dogs or cats. I am not overly fond of Patsy. Patsy has the I.Q. of a pod of Okra. If the dog were any more stupid she would be unable to breath. The thought of another 5 to 10 stupid dogs of questionable origin makes me wake up in a cold sweat seeking alcohol. Our cats are all odd cats. Kitty is our oldest cat. He has never shown enough personality for us to justify naming him. He is our only animal that shows any semblance of intellect. Next is the community cat Phil. Phil is a huge battle scared yellow tomcat. Lucy just wondered up one day. She is the one in heat.
The Snagleys were between paychecks so we could not get them to the vet prior to the upcoming animal orgy so we figured we could ride it out. We would keep the stupid dog locked up and we knew it was too late for the cat anyway thanks to our resident tomcat.

My wife Jo walked by the chicken coop and noticed that the roosters were matting with the hens, over and over and over. So our chicken coop is now the best little whore house in Alabama. Then we noticed that there were about 5 dogs across the street in the neighbor’s yard fighting and howling. Then about every 10 minutes I would have to chase another horny dog out of the yard. I threw rocks, I yelled, chased with sticks to no avail. I took to keeping stupid dog with me as I worked in the yard so I could keep an eye on her. I know you are asking me why don’t I just let them go at it and get it out of their systems. For one thing I don’t want any more dogs. For the second thing it cost more to have a dog spayed that is pregnant. Anyway I digress. At night I would lock her in my workshop.

Well one night close to dark, I am trying to eat my supper. I hear a whining outside and out I go. I find stupid dog conjoined with a very large black Labrador retriever. They are stuck together butt to butt. It is 38 degrees outside. I try yelling but this only made the black lab drag patsy across the yard by their genitals. So I got the water hose and started hosing off the dogs I concentrated the water on the lab. First I drenched the dog head to toe. Then I concentrated the water on the conjoined portions of each dog this also did not work so I then pointed the stream of water into the black labs ear. This did not work either so I then aimed the hard stream of high-pressure water directly at the dog’s rectum. This caused the dog great distress; it tried to bite me and disengaged Patsy. I shot the dog in the open mouth with more water and he ran off. Then I put stupid dog in the workshop.

You would think that after a high pressure dog enema at 38 degrees a black lab would feel deterred, not so. I caught them at it once more at and this time took the water directly to where I knew it would have the greatest effect. I have to admit that this gave me some degree of satisfaction. Well I get another week off in November at that point only the chickens will be doing it and I want them to do it as much as they can. For the record I timed them. Chicken sex lasts 4 seconds on average. Inquiring minds want to know.