The Xylo Diaries. Seat Belts VS Zombies

The Xylo Diaries. Seat Belts VS Zombies

“We’d love to bring him down to visit you, but we need him more comfortable with traveling in the car first,” I say, sincerely this time, patting Xylo on the head as I speak. I had to pull him into to range of the laptop’s camera so he could fit in the shot of the...
The Xylo Diaries. Seat Belts VS Zombies

The Xylo Diaries. Don’t Talk About It.

I’m just going to come right out and say it: it’s extremely hard to concentrate on writing while your dog is slurping his crotch like a snow cone. Hey, I know dogs bath themselves with their tongue. I get that their customs are not my customs, and that their tongues...
The Xylo Diaries. Seat Belts VS Zombies

The Xylo Diaries. Good With Children

I walk the dog up Elm Street in hopes that we’ll pass this one house where this Boxer named Oscar lives. Oscar is a little fat, but that just means there is more of him to love since he’s a real people dog, friendly as a pedophile with kids, and just plain happy to be...
The Xylo Diaries. Seat Belts VS Zombies

The Xylo Diaries: Water Dog

The name of the place was Bow Wow Beach, or something nearly as corny,  and for December 4th it was pretty busy. All shape and size of dog owner with all shape and size of dog patrolled it, barking and correcting as they went. While the name was a little sappy, the...
The Xylo Diaries. Seat Belts VS Zombies

The Xylo Diaries. Wake Up Call

My wife rolls over and whacks me on the arm. She doesn’t have to hit me, I’m already awake. I have been for the last couple hours now; just lying there while the sleep depravation headache sets in on my temples. “Go let him out,” she says. “You go let him out,” I...

Xylo Diaries. Doggie Grandparents

  “He’s got a head like a damn anteater,” says my dad, pressing a thick hand down on Xylo’s long, narrow, snout— currently needling him in the crotch. “Are they supposed to have heads like this?” Asks my concerned mother, who has not stopped inspecting Xylo since...