My dog has fleas. 4263 of them. I should know, I counted them. It was hard to get them to stand still, but I think my count was pretty close.

When evening falls and the coyotes start to howl, my dog likes to yodel. I don't mean yodeling in that Scooby-Doo half-talking sense. I mean he goes into the bedroom, puts on some leather lederhosen, climbs to the top of the nearest snow-covered peak, and sings "Yodel-ay-hee-hoo". I don't have the heart to tell him that his sense of pitch isn't what you'd call quality.

Disney is thinking of making a movie about him, sort of a canine "Sound of Music." He may be talented, but I'll be damned if I can get that mutt to fetch.

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