Oliver ~ Destroyer of Worlds

Oliver
You wouldn't think a simple medium sized dog could cause more trouble to　a family than　medium sized teenagers, but you've likely never met Oliver the dog.
My good friend ended up with a cute Four　month　old mixed breed puppy to fill the void of not having a family pet. To describe what breed of dog Oliver is　would　not be easy. My best uneducated guess would be part Basset hound, part Chupacabra with a dash of Cthulhu genetics for disposition.
His medium size is not from his genetics however. Bone structure, with limb length being the most　telltale　sign, points to what should be considered a small breed dog. His personal table manners and eating　habits　have combined to raise his Body Mass Index to a level not supported by the description "Small"  Oliver should be shaped like a hot-dog. Instead, I would say he's shaped more like a double cheeseburger. But Oliver seems otherwise healthy and happy. What more can you ask?
Like all beings, we each have a dark side. A struggle we all face from time to time. My dark side is holding on to grudges and not forgiving people that I feel wronged me. I can admit it, and I don't really keep it a secret. I'll continue to work on it and maybe conquer it someday. I think Oliver's dark side is his inability to care what he eats. His family feeds him the prescribed portions of a highly rated name-brand dog food. Oliver the dog doesn't seem satisfied with that. They noticed early on, like any puppy, he would chew on things. Not only chew toys, but pretty much anything that he could open his mouth and　get hold of　was fair game to him.
Just chewing on things isn't really an issue that should highly concern anyone. Soon after his family noticed the constant chewing, household items began to disappear. Sometimes things would completely disappear and sometimes remnants would remain. Oliver's appetite caused him to chew up and then devour basically anything left unattended. He is also an accomplished dinner table　ninja.　If a morsel of food is accidentally dropped from the table, it rarely touches the floor before it is "rescued" by the silent food warrior. I've personally witnessed this.  I think when a dog is that good at cleaning the floors it should be called "barkcuuming"
The following is a documented list of items Oliver actually ate. By "ate", I mean chewed, swallowed, partially digested and passed.
Any piece of paper left on the floor (size doesn't matter)
Boxes of Tic Tacs can't be put high enough to avoid his reach, but dog-breath isn't a problem now.
Parts of appliance cords. We assume he somehow unplugged them first.
All but the nose-pad of a pair of expensive and necessary prescription eyeglasses.
And entire cell phone, including the protective cover.
Fast food wrappers left in the car.
A plastic glass containing 7-up was consumed in less than a minute. No liquid was found in the area.
A　leather　billfold　with ID, credit cards and cash. Although the family originally thought the billfold was misplaced, they later found, um,　evidence.

Socks, shoes, a half pair of jeans, digital camera, family picture hanging several feet from the floor, a hand towel, small garbage can, dresser drawer handles, homework of course,　golfballs, tennis balls, baseballs, baseball glove, mitten, scarf and Christmas　tree ornaments are all victims of Oliver: The destroyer of worlds.  It's probably a good thing he has a short tail.

A Kiss from Above

By 2005, I had attended 27 straight State "A" High School wrestling tournaments. Whether it's just my own personality or an addiction, I love the energy and feel of State tournaments, no matter the sport. Wrestling just happens to be my favorite. Each venue has its own positive and negative traits. By far my least favorite place to attend is the Sioux Falls Arena. They practically strip-search you to make sure you aren't bringing in any contraband of food, drink, gum, tic-tacs or the like. Nothing is allowed inside the arena that the precious cash-cow of concessions can provide at an astronomically high price. I'm not kidding. They actually shut off the water supply to the public fountains located all over the arena. If you need a little sip of water for your dry mouth after yelling for your team, you are going to pay $7.50 for a little bottle of water they bought in bulk for 12.5 cents each. I've seen signs in the bathrooms by the sinks stating that it was not potable water flowing from the faucets. I can wash my hands with it, but not drink it? It might work as a deterrent for some, but even I'm not that gullible.
In contrast, Rapid City is much nicer to attend as a spectator. It seems much easier to go in and out without hassle. They have much lower prices on food and drink, and an overall warmer, friendly atmosphere. Even with reserved seating, which is in the balcony, you can still go to the main floor and get close to the mat to cheer on a wrestler. In Sioux Falls you would likely be tazered by security for attempting to get near the main floor. It's an exciting thing to be that close to the action. Although, there was one time when I wish I wasn't allowed mat-side.
That year I took my daughter Kristin and son Bobby along. I don't remember what Bobby wore that first day, but I will never as long as I live forget what Kristin was wearing. She wore blue jeans and a grey hoodie. As soon as we got inside, the kids found their people and went their separate ways. I hooked up with my buddy Rob and we immediately went into expert fan mode. The referee's, coaches and athletes always seem to need our expert advice and one point or another.
At one point during the first session we moved to the far north mat because a Winner kid was getting ready to wrestle there. Rob and I walked as close to the mat as we could for better viewing. As we approached, I noticed Kristin right in front of me. She was holding a digital camera and was videoing the match that was just finishing. I thought, "She has a crush on a wrestler from another town and borrowed a camera to get pictures. I'm going to embarrass her and let her know that I caught her"
I snuck up behind her and peeked over her shoulder for a bit. She didn't notice. So I just leaned over from behind and planted a big ol' daddy kiss on the top of her head. I made a huge *MMMMMMSMOUCH sound as I did it too.
She turned around, but it wasn't Kristin. The blood flow to my face was instant. I was in shock at first and then said, "Oh God, I thought you were my daughter, I'm sooo sorry. Oh my, you look just like her from behind. No, I mean..."
I looked over at Rob, whose face was also red from laughing so hard, then back to the girl. She just rolled her eyes, turned around and didn't say a thing. I quickly left the building and ran to the adjacent motel. I changed clothes, put contacts in and donned a baseball cap as to not be identified by what I was sure would be a platoon of police waiting for me at the arena.
Apparently, there was a student manager from Milbank with the exact same hair, height, hoodie and jeans as Kristin. Milbank was nice enough to place their fan section right next to Winner's the entire time. Every hour or so, I would see that girl talking to someone and pointing at me. I'm sure they had quite a nickname for me by the end of the tournament.