Danny Mac's Blog, page 15
January 13, 2023
My Dog is a Karen – New Year, Old Problems
Happy New Year everyone,
Christmas arrived with great joy to celebrate the birth of our lord. My wife decorated the living room, dining room, and kitchen with festive colors and arrangements. This included moving furniture in the living room to accommodate the tree. We left the reminders of Emanuel until the Wednesday after New Year’s Day. The tedious process of carefully packaging every ornament, décor, and figurine flowed into Thursday.
Friday finds her staring at the living room trying to picture the room and the best fit of the furniture. Naturally, she calls me for advice. “Why can’t we put it back like it was?” brings on the wife's glare sinking into my bones. I don’t understand why it has to be different, but it does. The wife code dictates the living room must appear different after the holidays. Now experiencing our twenty-ninth Christmas together, I should know this.
I struggle to appreciate this concept but now know after a lifetime of Bible study, nowhere does it state a husband to understand his wife. We are to love our wives as Jesus loves the Church. So, I help her rearrange the living room to her exact taste. The arrangement of the living room takes up most of the afternoon and involves our daughter because dad’s taste in decorating cannot be trusted.
This year the smaller couch moves to the south wall and the larger to the west wall leaving the front wall with an open view out the window. The two armchairs and a coffee table create a barrier on the east to form a foyer behind them. The two red chairs rest where the smaller couch sat for the past year and the larger couch the year before. It looks good and I compliment my wife on her ability to decorate.
However, no one acquires Ginger’s endorsement of the new-look living room and this creates problems that only a karen can solve. For the past couple of years, Ginger snoozes herself on the east side of the living room on couches that have protective covers to keep her claws from scratching the fabric and collecting the dog hair that sticks to everything but the dog. The two red chairs have no such protection and we place throw pillows to keep her off them.
A karen wants what a karen wants and acts according to her wants. As the house quiets in the evening, Ginger knocks the pillows off the chair and curls up for a nap. A deep Feng Shui urge presses upon her the need to sleep on the east side of the living room despite the comfy couches on the other walls. When I spy her transgression, I tell mom and she marches downstairs to sternly scold the disobedient child to move. For my troubles, Ginger awards me a scornful stare and disparaging grumble under her breath.
Please leave a comment on my blog, subscribe for future blogs, and like where applicable.
God bless,
Danny Mac
Christmas arrived with great joy to celebrate the birth of our lord. My wife decorated the living room, dining room, and kitchen with festive colors and arrangements. This included moving furniture in the living room to accommodate the tree. We left the reminders of Emanuel until the Wednesday after New Year’s Day. The tedious process of carefully packaging every ornament, décor, and figurine flowed into Thursday.
Friday finds her staring at the living room trying to picture the room and the best fit of the furniture. Naturally, she calls me for advice. “Why can’t we put it back like it was?” brings on the wife's glare sinking into my bones. I don’t understand why it has to be different, but it does. The wife code dictates the living room must appear different after the holidays. Now experiencing our twenty-ninth Christmas together, I should know this.
I struggle to appreciate this concept but now know after a lifetime of Bible study, nowhere does it state a husband to understand his wife. We are to love our wives as Jesus loves the Church. So, I help her rearrange the living room to her exact taste. The arrangement of the living room takes up most of the afternoon and involves our daughter because dad’s taste in decorating cannot be trusted.
This year the smaller couch moves to the south wall and the larger to the west wall leaving the front wall with an open view out the window. The two armchairs and a coffee table create a barrier on the east to form a foyer behind them. The two red chairs rest where the smaller couch sat for the past year and the larger couch the year before. It looks good and I compliment my wife on her ability to decorate.
However, no one acquires Ginger’s endorsement of the new-look living room and this creates problems that only a karen can solve. For the past couple of years, Ginger snoozes herself on the east side of the living room on couches that have protective covers to keep her claws from scratching the fabric and collecting the dog hair that sticks to everything but the dog. The two red chairs have no such protection and we place throw pillows to keep her off them.
A karen wants what a karen wants and acts according to her wants. As the house quiets in the evening, Ginger knocks the pillows off the chair and curls up for a nap. A deep Feng Shui urge presses upon her the need to sleep on the east side of the living room despite the comfy couches on the other walls. When I spy her transgression, I tell mom and she marches downstairs to sternly scold the disobedient child to move. For my troubles, Ginger awards me a scornful stare and disparaging grumble under her breath.
Please leave a comment on my blog, subscribe for future blogs, and like where applicable.
God bless,
Danny Mac
January 6, 2023
My Dog is a Karen – Furry Cold Shoulder
Happy New Year everyone,
This past week saw our new neighbors settling into their forever home. A multitude of moving vans, installation trucks, and family helping them ebbed and flowed throughout the week. Ginger with her nerves shot from the Christmas season remained on high alert with one ear constantly seeking noises from outside.
Wednesday saw several trucks pulling into the neighbor’s drive and many people walking around their house. This triggers a karen rant and Ginger howls her bitterness towards this perceived injustice to her being. Additionally, the third day of January brought us partly cloudy skies and near sixty degrees, a rarity in any winter on the north coast of Ohio.
To Ginger, all the stars aligned for the perfect storm of karen as she persisted in going out to bark her demands at the neighbors. As I tried to wrangle her back into the house, the new neighbor came over to make peace with Ginger. She rejected his attempts of reconciliation and pressed harder on the karen mode to scream her indignation to his face. Five minutes back in the house and knowing these intruders were still mocking her by working around their house, sent her to her door wanting out again.
“Not one single bark or I will bring you back into the house,” I commanded before releasing her to the outdoors. It took all of four wet paws before, “Aaarrroooo” screeches from her mouth. I slip into my slippers to retrieve her with a wave to the neighbors.
Five minutes later, she pings the bell to exit the house again. I fit my feet into the slippers before hooking her up and letting her out. This time, only two paws get wet before the howls in indignation resonate from her fifty-pound body. As the leash stretches completely out, I am dragging her back into the house.
Five minutes later, karen howls out the front window as another car pulls into the neighbor’s drive. A terror races down the steps and clangs the bell to go out to release her rage at the interlopers interrupting my writing again. “No, get your furry butt upstairs. Keep going, all the way to your room. Go to your room.” As she drags her defeated self into the bedroom. She reverses and peaks back down the stairs only to see me still pointing for her not to come down.
An hour passes and she rings the bell again. Opening the door, she barges through only to see no cars, trucks, or vans anywhere to be seen. Still ruffing with insolence, she does her business. She spends twenty minutes waiting for their return. In the end, she skulks back into the house disappointed not letting her rage out.
Just before making dinner, I go to pet her head while sleeping on the couch, “Grooooooan,” comes from deep in her body. Clearly translated, “Don’t bother me.”
I took away her ability to karen all over the neighbors and the rest of the day I received the cold furry shoulder.
Be sure to comment on my blog and subscribe for future blogs and updates.
God bless,
Danny Mac
This past week saw our new neighbors settling into their forever home. A multitude of moving vans, installation trucks, and family helping them ebbed and flowed throughout the week. Ginger with her nerves shot from the Christmas season remained on high alert with one ear constantly seeking noises from outside.
Wednesday saw several trucks pulling into the neighbor’s drive and many people walking around their house. This triggers a karen rant and Ginger howls her bitterness towards this perceived injustice to her being. Additionally, the third day of January brought us partly cloudy skies and near sixty degrees, a rarity in any winter on the north coast of Ohio.
To Ginger, all the stars aligned for the perfect storm of karen as she persisted in going out to bark her demands at the neighbors. As I tried to wrangle her back into the house, the new neighbor came over to make peace with Ginger. She rejected his attempts of reconciliation and pressed harder on the karen mode to scream her indignation to his face. Five minutes back in the house and knowing these intruders were still mocking her by working around their house, sent her to her door wanting out again.
“Not one single bark or I will bring you back into the house,” I commanded before releasing her to the outdoors. It took all of four wet paws before, “Aaarrroooo” screeches from her mouth. I slip into my slippers to retrieve her with a wave to the neighbors.
Five minutes later, she pings the bell to exit the house again. I fit my feet into the slippers before hooking her up and letting her out. This time, only two paws get wet before the howls in indignation resonate from her fifty-pound body. As the leash stretches completely out, I am dragging her back into the house.
Five minutes later, karen howls out the front window as another car pulls into the neighbor’s drive. A terror races down the steps and clangs the bell to go out to release her rage at the interlopers interrupting my writing again. “No, get your furry butt upstairs. Keep going, all the way to your room. Go to your room.” As she drags her defeated self into the bedroom. She reverses and peaks back down the stairs only to see me still pointing for her not to come down.
An hour passes and she rings the bell again. Opening the door, she barges through only to see no cars, trucks, or vans anywhere to be seen. Still ruffing with insolence, she does her business. She spends twenty minutes waiting for their return. In the end, she skulks back into the house disappointed not letting her rage out.
Just before making dinner, I go to pet her head while sleeping on the couch, “Grooooooan,” comes from deep in her body. Clearly translated, “Don’t bother me.”
I took away her ability to karen all over the neighbors and the rest of the day I received the cold furry shoulder.
Be sure to comment on my blog and subscribe for future blogs and updates.
God bless,
Danny Mac
December 30, 2022
My Dog is a Karen – Christmas Entitlement
Happy New Year everyone,
Christmas morning brings out the giddy and early rise from bed unless you are older than 12. I hear people say dogs equate to toddlers and cats to teenagers. Our dog carries the toddler gene and wakes well before anyone else. Jumping on the bed and bouncing on mom and dad to wake us up.
Ginger bounds down the stairs and sniffs all the gifts under the tree as if to say, “This one mine, this one mine,” and so on for each gift under the tree. Then a smell catches her nose and springs to the front door where the stockings hang. Mom ambles down the stairs, “That’s not yours!”
With a cup of tea for mom and dad, Ginger anxiously awaits an hour for her human sister to drag herself out of bed. As most humans do, she heads for the bathroom and the first flash of karen manifests directly in front of us. Ginger runs up the stairs and starts a whining protest at the bathroom door. My daughter returns to her room and Ginger moans with unsettled grievances.
The sheer delight emits in a dance of circles and hops to see her sister come out holding a box. “That’s mine” translates from the ear-piercing squeal coming from the prancing dog. Great joy fills karen as she gets her way. Sister places the box on the floor open side down. Ginger tries her best to open it or flip it. But without opposable thumbs, it proves impossible. The second karen instant of Christmas morning arises with cries of injustice. I kick the box over and Ginger dives into the open top and pulls out two new toys.
The third karen incident begins with Ginger wandering the kitchen looking for spills and drops while I cook. The two hours of cooking build with me yelling louder every five minutes, “Get out of the kitchen!” She slinks away grumbling under her breath about how unfair I am for kicking her out as she runs up to protest to mom.
As we watch Christmas Vacation in the evening every Christmas Day, the fourth karen moment of the day appears. Don’t watch a movie with a karen more interested in playing with her loudest new toy. Mom finally hides the toy under her blanket. After trying to uncover it for five minutes, she whines to me about her confiscated toy. “Sit and watch the movie,” sternly leaves my lips between laughs. Ginger, our resident karen, grumbles under her breath which I will not translate in polite society.
I hope everyone had a delightful and loving Christmas and wish everybody a happy New Year.
Be sure to comment on my blog and subscribe for future blogs and updates.
God bless,
Danny Mac
Christmas morning brings out the giddy and early rise from bed unless you are older than 12. I hear people say dogs equate to toddlers and cats to teenagers. Our dog carries the toddler gene and wakes well before anyone else. Jumping on the bed and bouncing on mom and dad to wake us up.
Ginger bounds down the stairs and sniffs all the gifts under the tree as if to say, “This one mine, this one mine,” and so on for each gift under the tree. Then a smell catches her nose and springs to the front door where the stockings hang. Mom ambles down the stairs, “That’s not yours!”
With a cup of tea for mom and dad, Ginger anxiously awaits an hour for her human sister to drag herself out of bed. As most humans do, she heads for the bathroom and the first flash of karen manifests directly in front of us. Ginger runs up the stairs and starts a whining protest at the bathroom door. My daughter returns to her room and Ginger moans with unsettled grievances.
The sheer delight emits in a dance of circles and hops to see her sister come out holding a box. “That’s mine” translates from the ear-piercing squeal coming from the prancing dog. Great joy fills karen as she gets her way. Sister places the box on the floor open side down. Ginger tries her best to open it or flip it. But without opposable thumbs, it proves impossible. The second karen instant of Christmas morning arises with cries of injustice. I kick the box over and Ginger dives into the open top and pulls out two new toys.
The third karen incident begins with Ginger wandering the kitchen looking for spills and drops while I cook. The two hours of cooking build with me yelling louder every five minutes, “Get out of the kitchen!” She slinks away grumbling under her breath about how unfair I am for kicking her out as she runs up to protest to mom.
As we watch Christmas Vacation in the evening every Christmas Day, the fourth karen moment of the day appears. Don’t watch a movie with a karen more interested in playing with her loudest new toy. Mom finally hides the toy under her blanket. After trying to uncover it for five minutes, she whines to me about her confiscated toy. “Sit and watch the movie,” sternly leaves my lips between laughs. Ginger, our resident karen, grumbles under her breath which I will not translate in polite society.
I hope everyone had a delightful and loving Christmas and wish everybody a happy New Year.
Be sure to comment on my blog and subscribe for future blogs and updates.
God bless,
Danny Mac
December 23, 2022
My Dog is a Karen – Worn out Ginger
Merry Christmas everyone,
As predicted at Thanksgiving, our resident karen had a horrible month of devilish trucks, invading delivery people, and new neighbors moving in. The extra stimuli in her life put her on the edge of panic every day. Every noise vibrating into the house twitched her nerves setting off the karen button on a regular basis. This meant her normal eight to ten hours of nap came uneasy with interruptions and often over nothing in sight.
As the sun settled in the western sky earlier every waking day, she maintained her patrol of our house guarding it against the illusive Black Bart coming to harm her family. Instead of a B-B gun, she protected her home with a shrill howling bark of a karen destined for war. The darkness made it impossible to detect iniquity in the world as her eyes grew tired from the lack of adequate sleep.
Shortly after the feeding of her human servants, she found a place on the couch to crash from the exhaustion of defending our abode. From this slumbering nest, we heard the occasional gruff from the tormented nightmares of the dreaded FedEx, UPS, and Amazon trucks driving by the house. It took a Ginger snack to reach into the deep snooze to use the yard one last time before bed.
Then with all the barks she can give for one day exhausted from her being, she slugged her way upstairs to our room for a peaceful night’s sleep. Mom rose up to cover up her baby and tucked her into bed for a secure and safe night of inactivity.
As seen in the picture, we spoil our dog. She sleeps in an oversized queen bed because anything else she fancies as being below her dignity. A designer blanket to keep her warm and a special pillow kowtow to her demanding attitude. Please do not inform her the pillow is the remains from mom gaining a new one or the blanket was a gift from years before she came into our lives.
Tis the season we celebrate Christ coming to Earth as a helpless infant with the full power of our universe upon him. Like the Magi, shepherds, and many other visitors, may we see the coming of the King to rule in righteousness, justice, and peace for the forgiveness of sins and reconciliation with the Father.
I noticed this week, many other writers of karen stories made it a point to use the lowercase K to distinguish between the meme and all the wonderful people named Karen. I will follow their example and adjust my previous stories in the archive and all future blogs regarding our resident karen.
If you like my blog, signup for future blogs and upcoming books.
God bless,
Danny Mac
As predicted at Thanksgiving, our resident karen had a horrible month of devilish trucks, invading delivery people, and new neighbors moving in. The extra stimuli in her life put her on the edge of panic every day. Every noise vibrating into the house twitched her nerves setting off the karen button on a regular basis. This meant her normal eight to ten hours of nap came uneasy with interruptions and often over nothing in sight.
As the sun settled in the western sky earlier every waking day, she maintained her patrol of our house guarding it against the illusive Black Bart coming to harm her family. Instead of a B-B gun, she protected her home with a shrill howling bark of a karen destined for war. The darkness made it impossible to detect iniquity in the world as her eyes grew tired from the lack of adequate sleep.
Shortly after the feeding of her human servants, she found a place on the couch to crash from the exhaustion of defending our abode. From this slumbering nest, we heard the occasional gruff from the tormented nightmares of the dreaded FedEx, UPS, and Amazon trucks driving by the house. It took a Ginger snack to reach into the deep snooze to use the yard one last time before bed.
Then with all the barks she can give for one day exhausted from her being, she slugged her way upstairs to our room for a peaceful night’s sleep. Mom rose up to cover up her baby and tucked her into bed for a secure and safe night of inactivity.
As seen in the picture, we spoil our dog. She sleeps in an oversized queen bed because anything else she fancies as being below her dignity. A designer blanket to keep her warm and a special pillow kowtow to her demanding attitude. Please do not inform her the pillow is the remains from mom gaining a new one or the blanket was a gift from years before she came into our lives.
Tis the season we celebrate Christ coming to Earth as a helpless infant with the full power of our universe upon him. Like the Magi, shepherds, and many other visitors, may we see the coming of the King to rule in righteousness, justice, and peace for the forgiveness of sins and reconciliation with the Father.
I noticed this week, many other writers of karen stories made it a point to use the lowercase K to distinguish between the meme and all the wonderful people named Karen. I will follow their example and adjust my previous stories in the archive and all future blogs regarding our resident karen.
If you like my blog, signup for future blogs and upcoming books.
God bless,
Danny Mac
December 16, 2022
My Dog is a Karen – Tries to Fire Me
Hello everyone,
The chief cook and head bottle washer prepared dinner as usual on a gloomy Monday evening. As I moved from counter to sink and back again, our four-legged Karen pushed in to give her opinion on my progress. “Yipe,” went the dog in a painful screech. I stumble, after stepping on her toe, trying to maintain my balance while trying not to spill a pot of water for the potatoes.
“UGG!” shouts out of my mouth. “Get out of the kitchen!” in a no-nonsense tone.
Ginger slunk away with her tail between her legs. Grumbling to myself, I heard her slog up the stairs like a petulant child. My heart rate slowly returned to normal as the cubes of future mashed potatoes entered the soaking water. Two potatoes complete when our dog pranced into the kitchen like a Lipizzaner show horse performing for the blue ribbon. The self-assured grin on her face exclaimed, “You are in trouble now.”
Mom followed two steps behind the confident Karen strutting her stuff. That’s right folks, she complained to the manager in order to see me fired. With a smirk of superiority splashed on her face, she scrutinized the termination of the contemptible worker before her.
“What happened?” quizzically came from my wife’s mouth.
“She nearly tripped me carrying a pot of water and nearly broke my neck,” exaggerated came out while cubing the last potato.
“She came upstairs and sat on the bed with low moans and groans against you. If I didn’t know better, she was cussing at you. When I asked her if I should talk with you, she jumped off the bed and paraded back down.”
“So, am I fired?”
“No, I am not cooking. Tell her to stay out of the kitchen.”
“Get your furry butt out of the kitchen.” Ginger crept away into the living room. I stared in disbelief at my wife for a moment when we heard the continued long steady moan of unappreciated complaints coming from the sofa.
“Arrg!” I stated in desperation.
“Think of the bright side, you have your Karen story for this week,” smiling at the outlandish behavior of our entitled dog.
Subscribe for alerts at my website: About | Danny Mac - Author (dannymacauthor.com)
If you like my blogs, you will love to jump over to my home page to buy one of my books.
Merry Christmas and God bless,
Danny Mac
The chief cook and head bottle washer prepared dinner as usual on a gloomy Monday evening. As I moved from counter to sink and back again, our four-legged Karen pushed in to give her opinion on my progress. “Yipe,” went the dog in a painful screech. I stumble, after stepping on her toe, trying to maintain my balance while trying not to spill a pot of water for the potatoes.
“UGG!” shouts out of my mouth. “Get out of the kitchen!” in a no-nonsense tone.
Ginger slunk away with her tail between her legs. Grumbling to myself, I heard her slog up the stairs like a petulant child. My heart rate slowly returned to normal as the cubes of future mashed potatoes entered the soaking water. Two potatoes complete when our dog pranced into the kitchen like a Lipizzaner show horse performing for the blue ribbon. The self-assured grin on her face exclaimed, “You are in trouble now.”
Mom followed two steps behind the confident Karen strutting her stuff. That’s right folks, she complained to the manager in order to see me fired. With a smirk of superiority splashed on her face, she scrutinized the termination of the contemptible worker before her.
“What happened?” quizzically came from my wife’s mouth.
“She nearly tripped me carrying a pot of water and nearly broke my neck,” exaggerated came out while cubing the last potato.
“She came upstairs and sat on the bed with low moans and groans against you. If I didn’t know better, she was cussing at you. When I asked her if I should talk with you, she jumped off the bed and paraded back down.”
“So, am I fired?”
“No, I am not cooking. Tell her to stay out of the kitchen.”
“Get your furry butt out of the kitchen.” Ginger crept away into the living room. I stared in disbelief at my wife for a moment when we heard the continued long steady moan of unappreciated complaints coming from the sofa.
“Arrg!” I stated in desperation.
“Think of the bright side, you have your Karen story for this week,” smiling at the outlandish behavior of our entitled dog.
Subscribe for alerts at my website: About | Danny Mac - Author (dannymacauthor.com)
If you like my blogs, you will love to jump over to my home page to buy one of my books.
Merry Christmas and God bless,
Danny Mac
December 9, 2022
My Dog is a Karen – Truck Invasion 2022
Hello everyone,
As predicted in last week’s post, Ginger, aka The Karen, faced a week’s worth of turmoil from delivery trucks. Mom and sister departed for a shopping spree just after lunch on Wednesday. Ginger assembled on the couch looking forlorn out the window for not being included.
I smiled at her disappointment, “Ya know if you could behave in public, you could go with them. Instead, you choose to bark at everything and everyone, constantly pull on the lead, and otherwise be a nuisance around other people.”
A groan of discontent rumbled from deep in her throat as she rested her chin on the back of the sofa ever glaring out the bay window.
I returned to writing the next chapter as a half hour passed. I peeked at her and found her curled on the couch where she sat before. Given the choice between finishing the chapter and cleaning the kitchen, I chose the mess of lunch dishes instead. Just as my elbows reached deep in wash water, “Aaaarrrrrooooo,” uproar came from the living room.
I peeked around the corner with my hands dripping wet and see the vile brown truck backing into the drive. The screams of torment screeched back defending our house from the Black Bart attacking the house with two boxes of death and destruction. I watched the brown invader exit stage right. It makes life easier to wait for the Karen mode to deactivate before retrieving my wife’s Christmas gifts and hiding them.
Ten more minutes of washing dishes found Ginger back on the front couch for an uneasy rest waiting for her sister and mom. I heard the first beep of a revolting white truck backing into our driveway. The Karen mode howling suffocated the sound of the rest of them. Then a different Black Bart caring dreadful box of certain death came to the front door. Then this despicable man gave a friendly wave which all Karens know this is the coup-de-gras of disrespect warranting even louder howls.
Again, I waited ten minutes for Karen mode to deactivate before retrieving the box. Looking at the insignia on this box on the porch, she spied the certain death warning. Upon closer inspection inside the house, she recognized the Chewy logo. This meant it was her box as her tail wagged and wedged herself underfoot with anticipation at the great things in it. I left it on the dining room table which reaped me another dirty look from her.
Mom opened the box and pulled out her new bed. She threw away the old one fitting the new one in its place. Ginger snuggled into it immediately and became so content, she missed the dark blue panel van backing into the drive. Mom retrieved the last gift of the day without Karen shouting her complaints. We found Thursday much quieter as she slept the day away in her new bed.
Subscribe for alerts at my website: About | Danny Mac - Author (dannymacauthor.com)
Merry Christmas and God bless,
Danny Mac
As predicted in last week’s post, Ginger, aka The Karen, faced a week’s worth of turmoil from delivery trucks. Mom and sister departed for a shopping spree just after lunch on Wednesday. Ginger assembled on the couch looking forlorn out the window for not being included.
I smiled at her disappointment, “Ya know if you could behave in public, you could go with them. Instead, you choose to bark at everything and everyone, constantly pull on the lead, and otherwise be a nuisance around other people.”
A groan of discontent rumbled from deep in her throat as she rested her chin on the back of the sofa ever glaring out the bay window.
I returned to writing the next chapter as a half hour passed. I peeked at her and found her curled on the couch where she sat before. Given the choice between finishing the chapter and cleaning the kitchen, I chose the mess of lunch dishes instead. Just as my elbows reached deep in wash water, “Aaaarrrrrooooo,” uproar came from the living room.
I peeked around the corner with my hands dripping wet and see the vile brown truck backing into the drive. The screams of torment screeched back defending our house from the Black Bart attacking the house with two boxes of death and destruction. I watched the brown invader exit stage right. It makes life easier to wait for the Karen mode to deactivate before retrieving my wife’s Christmas gifts and hiding them.
Ten more minutes of washing dishes found Ginger back on the front couch for an uneasy rest waiting for her sister and mom. I heard the first beep of a revolting white truck backing into our driveway. The Karen mode howling suffocated the sound of the rest of them. Then a different Black Bart caring dreadful box of certain death came to the front door. Then this despicable man gave a friendly wave which all Karens know this is the coup-de-gras of disrespect warranting even louder howls.
Again, I waited ten minutes for Karen mode to deactivate before retrieving the box. Looking at the insignia on this box on the porch, she spied the certain death warning. Upon closer inspection inside the house, she recognized the Chewy logo. This meant it was her box as her tail wagged and wedged herself underfoot with anticipation at the great things in it. I left it on the dining room table which reaped me another dirty look from her.
Mom opened the box and pulled out her new bed. She threw away the old one fitting the new one in its place. Ginger snuggled into it immediately and became so content, she missed the dark blue panel van backing into the drive. Mom retrieved the last gift of the day without Karen shouting her complaints. We found Thursday much quieter as she slept the day away in her new bed.
Subscribe for alerts at my website: About | Danny Mac - Author (dannymacauthor.com)
Merry Christmas and God bless,
Danny Mac
December 2, 2022
My Dog is a Karen – Dog on the Edge
Hello everyone,
The Christmas season started on Thanksgiving when Santa waved his way down the Macy’s Thanksgiving Parade. This past week brought us Thanksgiving with preparations beginning the day before. The weekend of people visiting the house sparked more emotion. The new neighbors parked an unknown car in their drive preparing their new home for move-in. They called a man to rekey the house with his strange little truck. Tuesday saw Small Group meet for dinner and Bible study.
Beyond all that, mom’s Christmas gifts bought online began flowing to the house via common delivery companies. All the hubbub of the past week put Ginger on the edge of meltdowns and tripped her Karen switch often. Before life can relieve her past complaints, another trigger activated her howls in outrage over something not right in her world. She spent the past couple of days at the front window for hours on end muttering to herself, “Amazon, FedEx, and UPS, oh my,” like the Scarecrow, Tinman, and Dorothy singing down the yellow brick road.
The delivery trucks are scheduled for the next week or so. Until all the gifts for Christmas have arrived, Mom often checks the front porch which sets Ginger on alert for another blue, white, or brown truck menacing our driveway again. Eventually, our resident Karen spies the truck backing into our drive and only evil wanting to make a quick escape does that. Then Black Bart places a malicious box in front of our door with unknown horrors in it. (They are all Black Bart according to Ginger.) Even the warning signs on the box like “Amazon” clues her to the unnatural danger within and no manager possesses enough authority to calm her down.
Any movement in the house or any noise outside the house jumps her out of the lightest slumber her anxiety may provide. She prances through the house with one paw on the Karen button looking to go off on anything out of place. Several times she races out her door expecting to let out a torrent of furry only to find nothing. Monday afternoon finds her growling and howling at the goats across the street that she sees every day. We suspect they disrespected her in some way. Our best guess is they stuck their tongues at her in a sassy manner.
Subscribe for alerts at my website: About | Danny Mac - Author (dannymacauthor.com)
Merry Christmas and God bless,
Danny Mac
The Christmas season started on Thanksgiving when Santa waved his way down the Macy’s Thanksgiving Parade. This past week brought us Thanksgiving with preparations beginning the day before. The weekend of people visiting the house sparked more emotion. The new neighbors parked an unknown car in their drive preparing their new home for move-in. They called a man to rekey the house with his strange little truck. Tuesday saw Small Group meet for dinner and Bible study.
Beyond all that, mom’s Christmas gifts bought online began flowing to the house via common delivery companies. All the hubbub of the past week put Ginger on the edge of meltdowns and tripped her Karen switch often. Before life can relieve her past complaints, another trigger activated her howls in outrage over something not right in her world. She spent the past couple of days at the front window for hours on end muttering to herself, “Amazon, FedEx, and UPS, oh my,” like the Scarecrow, Tinman, and Dorothy singing down the yellow brick road.
The delivery trucks are scheduled for the next week or so. Until all the gifts for Christmas have arrived, Mom often checks the front porch which sets Ginger on alert for another blue, white, or brown truck menacing our driveway again. Eventually, our resident Karen spies the truck backing into our drive and only evil wanting to make a quick escape does that. Then Black Bart places a malicious box in front of our door with unknown horrors in it. (They are all Black Bart according to Ginger.) Even the warning signs on the box like “Amazon” clues her to the unnatural danger within and no manager possesses enough authority to calm her down.
Any movement in the house or any noise outside the house jumps her out of the lightest slumber her anxiety may provide. She prances through the house with one paw on the Karen button looking to go off on anything out of place. Several times she races out her door expecting to let out a torrent of furry only to find nothing. Monday afternoon finds her growling and howling at the goats across the street that she sees every day. We suspect they disrespected her in some way. Our best guess is they stuck their tongues at her in a sassy manner.
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Merry Christmas and God bless,
Danny Mac
November 25, 2022
My Dog is a Karen – Outrage Denied
Hello everyone,
With Thanksgiving taking copious amounts of time from cleaning, cooking, overeating, and the long recovery from the festivities, I commented on not blogging this week. To which, our resident Karen moaned with disappointment. So, to keep her happy and make her week, here is this week’s story of Ginger the dog.
On Wednesday, my daughter started the bread-making process for dinner rolls for the feast. This includes blooming the yeast in warm water. She lounged on the couch for twenty minutes until the yeast becomes fully activated.
My FIL maintained his workout regimen by having the PT visit the house. The drill sergeant of a PT arrived as my daughter reclined on the couch. The sound of the car door closing perked the ears of our dog and released the Karen from deep inside. “Aaarrrroooo,” raced down the steps to the couch in the front window. Alas, her college-aged sister took up the entire space and refused to share.
“Naaarrooo, rooo-rooo,” and more high pitch, low-volume complaints spilled out of her mouth of Karen.
“Are you cussing at your sister?” as my stern eyes stared at the dog.
She turned to the couch and attempted once more to gain her perch to the outside world. Once more her sister blocked her endeavor to mouth off to the world. “Naaarrooo, rooo-rooo,” in an even lower tone.
“I will not have that type of language in this house.”
Apparently, it hurts when you try to stifle laughter as sister’s tears trickled from holding back the glee. “Your dog just cussed at you?”
“Yeah, I think she did,” came through a gritted smile.
Then the voice of the drill instructor PT came through the door activating full Karen mode for the half-hour she worked the old man.
Our Thanksgiving prayer included many things as we thanked God for the gifts in our lives. When I failed to mention Ginger, she groaned with discontentment. I included her at the end. I hope everyone enjoyed a blessed and grateful Thanksgiving.
Subscribe for alerts at my website: About | Danny Mac - Author (dannymacauthor.com)
God bless,
Danny Mac
With Thanksgiving taking copious amounts of time from cleaning, cooking, overeating, and the long recovery from the festivities, I commented on not blogging this week. To which, our resident Karen moaned with disappointment. So, to keep her happy and make her week, here is this week’s story of Ginger the dog.
On Wednesday, my daughter started the bread-making process for dinner rolls for the feast. This includes blooming the yeast in warm water. She lounged on the couch for twenty minutes until the yeast becomes fully activated.
My FIL maintained his workout regimen by having the PT visit the house. The drill sergeant of a PT arrived as my daughter reclined on the couch. The sound of the car door closing perked the ears of our dog and released the Karen from deep inside. “Aaarrrroooo,” raced down the steps to the couch in the front window. Alas, her college-aged sister took up the entire space and refused to share.
“Naaarrooo, rooo-rooo,” and more high pitch, low-volume complaints spilled out of her mouth of Karen.
“Are you cussing at your sister?” as my stern eyes stared at the dog.
She turned to the couch and attempted once more to gain her perch to the outside world. Once more her sister blocked her endeavor to mouth off to the world. “Naaarrooo, rooo-rooo,” in an even lower tone.
“I will not have that type of language in this house.”
Apparently, it hurts when you try to stifle laughter as sister’s tears trickled from holding back the glee. “Your dog just cussed at you?”
“Yeah, I think she did,” came through a gritted smile.
Then the voice of the drill instructor PT came through the door activating full Karen mode for the half-hour she worked the old man.
Our Thanksgiving prayer included many things as we thanked God for the gifts in our lives. When I failed to mention Ginger, she groaned with discontentment. I included her at the end. I hope everyone enjoyed a blessed and grateful Thanksgiving.
Subscribe for alerts at my website: About | Danny Mac - Author (dannymacauthor.com)
God bless,
Danny Mac
November 18, 2022
My Dog is a Karen – Pre-Christmas Complaints
Hello everyone,
Beginning the first week of September my wife asked me how to arrange the living room to hold the Christmas tree and still have room for the five to fifteen people attending Small Group. I, being her ever-caring husband for over twenty-eight years, answered diligently, “We’ll figure it out.” The question appeared more frequently as Thanksgiving approached because she decorates the Friday after it instead of facing the hordes of frenzy shoppers seeking specials of the Black Friday sales.
This past Wednesday started without the lingering question but she pulled chairs, sofas, and coffee tables out of the gathering room. My daughter mistakenly entered the living room and was voluntold to help. As I butchered another new chapter in my next still unnamed next book, “Honey, I need your opinion,” brought me into the fray and the three of us worked well past lunch arranging and rearranging the living room in order to fit the Christmas tree into the mix while leaving space for other decorations and people for the study.
However, mom started all this without our resident Karen granting permission. Ginger found a spot on the couch shoved up against the closet out of the way to show his discontent with the unauthorized changes. In her best Queen Karen pose, she viewed the reckless disregard for her input with disdain and contempt.
We moved the couch to three different locations until we found the perfect fit to meet mom’s need to decorate for Christmas and still fill the room with loving hearts learning Romans. Each reposition of the three-person sofa came with removing Queen Karen from her perch. Each dethroning came with moans and groans of dissatisfaction for having to relocate and the whole operation of the reorganization.
The final positioning of the room put the couch in the front window blocking her view of the outside world where she acts like Ralphie in A Christmas Story protecting her family from Black Bart. Grumbles abound until she discovered she obtains a better view by jumping onto the back of the couch and all was right in the world. As the day progressed, Ginger found a spot on a couch and slept the afternoon away after a strenuous morning of complaining about our injustice to her royal stature.
Subscribe for alerts at my website: About | Danny Mac - Author (dannymacauthor.com)
God bless,
Danny Mac
Beginning the first week of September my wife asked me how to arrange the living room to hold the Christmas tree and still have room for the five to fifteen people attending Small Group. I, being her ever-caring husband for over twenty-eight years, answered diligently, “We’ll figure it out.” The question appeared more frequently as Thanksgiving approached because she decorates the Friday after it instead of facing the hordes of frenzy shoppers seeking specials of the Black Friday sales.
This past Wednesday started without the lingering question but she pulled chairs, sofas, and coffee tables out of the gathering room. My daughter mistakenly entered the living room and was voluntold to help. As I butchered another new chapter in my next still unnamed next book, “Honey, I need your opinion,” brought me into the fray and the three of us worked well past lunch arranging and rearranging the living room in order to fit the Christmas tree into the mix while leaving space for other decorations and people for the study.
However, mom started all this without our resident Karen granting permission. Ginger found a spot on the couch shoved up against the closet out of the way to show his discontent with the unauthorized changes. In her best Queen Karen pose, she viewed the reckless disregard for her input with disdain and contempt.
We moved the couch to three different locations until we found the perfect fit to meet mom’s need to decorate for Christmas and still fill the room with loving hearts learning Romans. Each reposition of the three-person sofa came with removing Queen Karen from her perch. Each dethroning came with moans and groans of dissatisfaction for having to relocate and the whole operation of the reorganization.
The final positioning of the room put the couch in the front window blocking her view of the outside world where she acts like Ralphie in A Christmas Story protecting her family from Black Bart. Grumbles abound until she discovered she obtains a better view by jumping onto the back of the couch and all was right in the world. As the day progressed, Ginger found a spot on a couch and slept the afternoon away after a strenuous morning of complaining about our injustice to her royal stature.
Subscribe for alerts at my website: About | Danny Mac - Author (dannymacauthor.com)
God bless,
Danny Mac
November 11, 2022
My Dog is a Karen – Confounding Dilemma
Hello everyone,
Did You Ever Have to Make Up Your Mind was a song by the Loving Spoonful. They sang, “You pick up on one and leave the other behind. It's not often easy and not often kind.” The dilemma begins with lunch shortly after eleven in our house. Mom asks what’s for lunch and then makes something for herself. My daughter soon follows to doctor her lunch. I look forward to toasted cheese on a tortilla if there are no leftovers.
Ginger presents herself throughout the process because food accidentally falls on the floor. Sometimes, someone accidentally on purpose drops something just to spoil her. The hard work of looking woefully underfed for a whole hour wears her out and about the time I finish eating, she searches for a napping spot.
This past Wednesday my father-in-law’s physical therapist came up the drive around one. I heard her barking commands to our hard-of-hearing old man. I think she was a drill sergeant in her earlier life. Twenty minutes of instructions to stretch, walk, sit and rise echoed up the stairs to two floppy ears sleeping soundly. These direct directives proved to be insolence to a Karen of a dog.
Where a human Karen “Reeees” at perceived injustice, our four-legged Karen “Roooos” at the inequalities of her eyes as she raced for the front window. The combination of howling and barking raged at the strange car parked in the turn-around. Then the voice demanding more from the old man steered Ginger to the In-law suite door where the growls and screeches interrupt the training.
Mom reached her breaking point and promised the raging Karen a calming treat if she went upstairs. Now the Karen in our dog coveted tormenting the therapist while Ginger our dog desired the treat. The poor confused dog ran upstairs only to turn and run back down to yowl once more. Mom held up the treat, and she skidded along the kitchen floor trying to retreat to the bedroom.
Once more the Karen blossomed in her heart as she started for the In-law door only to see the treat heading upstairs. She stopped halfway between the door and the stairs eyeing both at the same time. Her furry head twitched to and fro trying to discover the proper response to two highly regarded outcomes. The pain of frustration from the mystification of wanting to chase after two highly prized moments sprouted from her being.
Mom offered calming treats was a rare moment and finding commotion to bark happens every day. “Are you coming?” softly floated down the stairs and Ginger jumped up the stairs for the treat. Mom closed her in the bedroom for a peaceful afternoon as I worked on another chapter in my latest book.
Subscribe for alerts at my website: About | Danny Mac - Author (dannymacauthor.com)
God bless,
Danny Mac
Did You Ever Have to Make Up Your Mind was a song by the Loving Spoonful. They sang, “You pick up on one and leave the other behind. It's not often easy and not often kind.” The dilemma begins with lunch shortly after eleven in our house. Mom asks what’s for lunch and then makes something for herself. My daughter soon follows to doctor her lunch. I look forward to toasted cheese on a tortilla if there are no leftovers.
Ginger presents herself throughout the process because food accidentally falls on the floor. Sometimes, someone accidentally on purpose drops something just to spoil her. The hard work of looking woefully underfed for a whole hour wears her out and about the time I finish eating, she searches for a napping spot.
This past Wednesday my father-in-law’s physical therapist came up the drive around one. I heard her barking commands to our hard-of-hearing old man. I think she was a drill sergeant in her earlier life. Twenty minutes of instructions to stretch, walk, sit and rise echoed up the stairs to two floppy ears sleeping soundly. These direct directives proved to be insolence to a Karen of a dog.
Where a human Karen “Reeees” at perceived injustice, our four-legged Karen “Roooos” at the inequalities of her eyes as she raced for the front window. The combination of howling and barking raged at the strange car parked in the turn-around. Then the voice demanding more from the old man steered Ginger to the In-law suite door where the growls and screeches interrupt the training.
Mom reached her breaking point and promised the raging Karen a calming treat if she went upstairs. Now the Karen in our dog coveted tormenting the therapist while Ginger our dog desired the treat. The poor confused dog ran upstairs only to turn and run back down to yowl once more. Mom held up the treat, and she skidded along the kitchen floor trying to retreat to the bedroom.
Once more the Karen blossomed in her heart as she started for the In-law door only to see the treat heading upstairs. She stopped halfway between the door and the stairs eyeing both at the same time. Her furry head twitched to and fro trying to discover the proper response to two highly regarded outcomes. The pain of frustration from the mystification of wanting to chase after two highly prized moments sprouted from her being.
Mom offered calming treats was a rare moment and finding commotion to bark happens every day. “Are you coming?” softly floated down the stairs and Ginger jumped up the stairs for the treat. Mom closed her in the bedroom for a peaceful afternoon as I worked on another chapter in my latest book.
Subscribe for alerts at my website: About | Danny Mac - Author (dannymacauthor.com)
God bless,
Danny Mac
