If you’ve 75 bucks…contact him…it’s a steal. I have some nice stuff hanging in my crib, but these two, and the one below, generate the most conversation.

Grew this last year.

What do you think it looks like?

Navigate to the Presufer for links on how to celebrate.

Anyway, the Juju Woman is firing up a Cherry / Blackberry pie to celebrate.

I snapped this at some beach reggae dive on Anguilla, British West Indies.

There were three to five of ‘em checking him out is his own space territory. Dive bombing him and shit like like that. Testing his reflexes…I’m glad I was around to protect his young ass. He was in danger of termination from above…I’m glad I heard ‘em.

I could put up the Hi-Res versions, but I ain’t doing it. The Juju Woman was driving the camera…and I’m on patrol with my doggie, and hear screaming from above. After my encounter with that rabid possum a week ago…I’m still a little wigged out…so I brought out the catdaddy…nothing will ever take Stretch. Nothing. It is, after-all, his Stretchengeti…his place…his home. I will protect him at whatever the cost.

Anyway, today is a beautiful day…Stretch is cool, and there was no loud noise. Although, I have no problem mounting an anti-bird gun out back.

I’m telling you…when birds of prey start hunting your dog…you need to be prepared.

Beautiful birds they are, but I’d do one in a second to save Stretch.

Cool Runnings!!

*** UPDATE ***

In response to an email.

The Juju Woman wouldn’t have been snapping pictures if she thought, for one moment, I couldn’t protect our Stretch Dog. She knew I had him covered.

Red-Tailed Hawks are magnificent birds, but dangerous. I swear to the Maker…they hunt in “packs”. They’re like the Borg…they think together. They plan.

He doesn’t remember.

Just 5 seconds is all you need.

I have thousands of pictures in my archives…been going thru ‘em and categorizing ‘em. Saw this one, and decided what’s for dinner tomorrow tonight. Gotta soak those beans overnight.

Snapped this somewhere in the French Quarter. It was a great meal.

It’s not cool to shoot in my neighborhood…I live across the street from the second hole of the catdaddy country club.

Anyway, I ran back outside and the fucking possum lunged at me…I popped it from about ten feet…it was down…I could see blood coming from its mouth. The Juju Woman said “shoot it again”. Since a .38 in considerably louder than a pellet gun; I put 3 in it with my .177. It looked dead to me. Did I say…this fucker was huge…biggest possum I’ve ever seen…at first, I thought is was a badger.

We’re back inside waiting for the cops to show up…a gunshot in my neighborhood is unusual…the one I fired was the first one I’ve ever heard…in my neighborhood that is. Thirty minutes later…no cops, so I thought I’d dispose of the body. I go back outside, this time with my snubby…just in case. That fucker WAS NOT dead…it came after me. I was able to get a stable stance and aim and fire again…this time, I blew its fucking head off. It Was Dead this time…was not playing Possum…no doubt about it.

I cannot believe it took two hits from a .38 and three from a .177 to kill it. It must have been doing some meth, or something. I’m not a bad shot.

It was too big to fit in my shovel, so I donned a pair of rubber gloves, and carried it, by the tail, across the street and deposited it on the second hole fairway.

As I type, I can see some vultures eating Sunday Brunch. You’re welcome.

Cool Runnings!!