Don't Drink And Choke Rottweilers.

"I grab a dog. I choke him and I kick the shit out of him. All day long got my foot up a dog's ass. Just bang, bang, bang up his ass. That's my pleasure." - Mr. Jones

The 16 hours in the car were well worth the three full days up in Ontario. Janet, Jim and I arrived at 3:30 Friday morning after driving up post-work because we wanted to be on hand for Canada Day. Many of my American friends have asked me recently what the signifigance of Canada Day (July 1st) is. Glad you asked - It's similar to Independence Day, only instead of being beaten back to Blighty by the minutemen after the invention of the long-range bored rifle - the Brits just sort of got bored and left Canada quietly.

During our time at the new Pye compound we hung drywall, landscaped, fashioned enormous illuminated maple leaves onto boats, prepared a huge deep-fryed Mexican feast for three sets of neighbors, got lost on the lake for 5 hours in the dark, caught sick jetski air, floated amongst fireworks and hung huge portraits off of ladders balanced on stairs. That we all returned with little more than a few mosquito nibbles to show for our chicanery is truly miraculous.



I don't quite remember at which point choking a 1/2 wolf, 1/2 Rottweiler seemed like a clever fricking passtime - but luckily Koba had watched us rip through several bottles of wine at dinner and didn't take it too personally. But then again, he also chased Spud up a tree twice and was already in the doghouse. He didn't need to add mauling moi to the manifest. I can go on and on - and yet might - about our glorious weekend up North. But a picture really is worth a thousand words, so I'll leave you with this massive new holiday gallery for now. Happy 4th you Yankee buggers.