 CONGRATULATIONS! to Emily B for being the only one to click on the correct Michael "Mike" Blair link and get a FREE $20 gift certificate last month.
Proving once again that those of you out there who accuse me of fraud are full of bologna and bull poop with lots of little stink lines coming out of it.
 Now just click the dachshund on the turntable to skip this whole newsletter and get to Augustus Megatron Bulldozer Kingsbury's latest Advice Column- August Advice.
NOTE: PLEASE don't send me emails about how the dachshund is being tortured. He's not really going around and around the turntable. The video is just made to look that way.
I Spy With My Little Eye: My Colonoscopy
 The nurses said I woke up from the anesthesia of my first colonoscopy singing loudly. I asked them what song I was singing and they just shrugged their shoulders and laughed- looking amongst themselves like thieves. No one wanted to tell. Then, as I was getting into Liana's waiting car, a nurse said, "It was Ten in the Bed, except you kept singing 'Auggie Dog' instead of 'Little One.'" Then they all laughed heartily.
Unfortunately for my health plan, that's when my love affair with colonoscopies started. And luckily, I have a family history of colo-rectal cancer.
Sure, the night before the procedure is just pure awfulness; swilling glass after glass of high-strength laxative and diuretic pills that could drain Lake Ontario.
 But that agony is only the night before. In the week prior, you can eat all kinds of zero fiber foods "they" are always warning you not to eat. Like scrambled eggs with gobs of cheese and potato chips, Twinkies, Econo-Paks of Little Debbies Nutty Bars, entire logs of sausage and chunks of barely-cooked bacon, two grilled 20oz Rib Eye Cowboy steaks without all those pesky potatoes, green beans, and other weird stuff like risotto and salad, and glasses upon glasses of zero-fiber Bushmills Irish whiskey. Colonoscopy week is also the week of the year when I consume the most Marshmallow Fluff.
Yet right before my second colonoscopy, professional Wet-Blanket and Wife Liana pointed out to me that my self-designed Zero-Fiber Diet was comprised of those very things that cause colo-rectal cancer.
 I responded by saying that my as-yet-colonoscopy-free wife was in no figurative or literal position to judge my pre-colonoscopy menu decisions. Didn't she know doctors were avowed sadists and enjoyed depriving honest people of comfort unless they were really dying or dead (The Patients, Not the Doctors).
 Those same "qualified" Docto-Sadists recommended I eat things like Jell-O, Wonderbread, plankton, Formica, steamed rice cakes, driveway gravel, spackle, weak broth, and ice cubes for my pre-colonoscopy week. If I got hungry I could gnaw on an ungalvanized solid-steel bolt.
 Somehow our marriage survived the night and Liana carted my irritable, fiber-free colon to the correct place in the hospital for my procedure for the second time. I couldn't help notice she didn't bring her coffee mug this time.
Why is this significant? On the way to my first colonoscopy I snuck one literal sip of her black coffee when she wasn't looking. When a nurse asked me right before the procedure whether I had anything to drink in the last 12 hours, like an idiot I said, "A sip of black coffee."
T hat set the beehive of nurses on red alert. I was removed from the first colonoscopy slot and put to the last. Nurses tsk-tsked me with sad, fleeting eyes and took my temperature over and over rectally.
 Hahaha! Just kidding! They had one of those new-fangled things that looked like a Star Trek phaser and took my temperature from my forehead. Like it mattered, considering what I was there for.
Liana just glared at me. She was incredulous that for once in my life I told the truth to an authority figure. And to a low-level authority figure at that. That one stupid truth cost her an additional two hours at the hospital for my first colonoscopy, and her morning coffee on my second colonoscopy.
 I'd like to say I was anesthetized for those two hours while Liana had to wait, but I wasn't. Liana was seething right next to me the entire time.
I began to have paranoid thoughts that during my procedure she would spitefully crash her car into an abutment or rob a bank just to leave me at the hospital without a way home.
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 On my second colonoscopy, I remember coming out of anesthesia talking about the Infield Fly Rule and Harold Baines. It wasn't nearly as funny or engaging to the nurses. I was a one-shot wonder. I was washed up. My colonoscopy comedy routine was over. Was it because I didn't have any illegal coffee this time? Only next time would tell.
They wheeled me to Liana's waiting car and promptly and professionally disposed me to her front seat.
Liana drove us back to the Southport cabin she had thoughtfully stocked with a bunch of stuff like yogurt, salad, baked beans, whole wheat bagels, peanut butter, mashed potatoes, and Auggie.
No. I didn't eat Auggie.
~ Don (Not a Dog)
WE LOVE HATE MAIL!
DOG SATTING
One day I was at the shop, idly watching a toddler throw an ice cream cone into our collar display when it hit me: I was a kind man.
 For example, I didn't scream like a male howler monkey and throw my feces at the toddler's mother. And it would do nothing for me to yell at the toddler except release endorphins into my brain that would make me feel a lot better. And I didn't run down the street after the mother when she "forgot" to help me clean up the fetid mess her dough-faced progeny gleefully left on my expensive collar display.
 Then the phone rang. It was from an area code I'd never seen before. It was something like 403. Naturally, I thought the worst and figured it was Spectrum Internet inquiring about my internet needs for the sixth time today from some place like the Korean Demilitarized Zone. I got the air horn out.
A woman asked if we sat dogs. I replied "We did not sit dogs- we were a pet supply store, not a restaurant. But if she went to....."
She cut me off and said she was kayaking next Saturday and needed someone to watch her dog for five hours because the Air BnB wouldn't allow her to leave the dog alone at the property.
"....our website and clicked on the blue box in the upper left that said "Explore Pet Friendly Boothbay"....
She cut me off again. The dog sitter had to take the dog. She didn't trust the sitter in her Air BnB for five hours.
"...once she was on the page, she should scroll past the pet-friendly accommodations and....."
 She didn't NEED pet friendly accommodations! She already HAD pet friendly accommodations!! She needed someone to watch her dog AWAY from her pet friendly accommodations!!! GAWD!!!!! WAS I STUPID?!?! WAS I EVEN LISTENING TO HER?!?!?
...to the Pet Services Header, where I listed all the sitters, walkers, groomers, trainers, etc. in the area..." At this point, I should have just hung up on her. But as I've said before, I'm a kind man, and it was impossible to throw my feces at her directly or through a telephone.
I said firmly and slowly, "RIGHT BELOW THE ACCOMMODATIONS SECTION IS WHERE ALL THE LINKS TO THE DOG SITTERS ARE." Her cake-cavity was strangely silent.
 I could feel understanding blossoming in that stultified little Stegosaurus brain of hers. She became less irritating and almost nice. She thanked me and asked for my website address again. I gave it and said that if she had trouble finding someone, to please let me know.
She thanked me and hung up.
It turns out that was a very, very stupid thing to say to a pushy, self-entitled lunatic.
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INTERLUDE
 I must interject at this point. Who goes on vacation with their dog and doesn't plan ahead? Has every need of this woman been fulfilled by the kindness of strangers? Who just assumes there will be someone at their beck and call to do whatever needs to be done for her dog in a strange town at a moment's notice? Especially during the height of vacationing in Vacationland?
 And why in the name of Pigs-in-a-Blanket was she calling a pet supply store for someone to sit her dog? Was she calling from a sanitarium? Or was it a sanatorium? Was I being stitched-up by Anne B., noted Don-hater, and active one-star BBB reviewer? Did I have any friends left? If the sun was burning, why was there no smoke? The questions were definitely piling up in Boothbay Harbor.
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She called me back literally 2 minutes later. She said she checked with everyone on the list and they were all too busy to take her dog. Could I call my "SUPER SECRET CONTACTS for her???"
I smelled a rat. A big, stinky, rat using urban sophistication to hoodwink some backwoods yokel like me into doing the heavy lifting/sitting for her.
I asked if she called the dog sitter with the German accent. She assured me she did. What about the sitter with the larynx voice box? Yep. And the Zoroastrian? You betchya. Of course there were no such people on my list.
 "Hmmmm... let's see," I said. "I think Bobbie Sue Lockjaw is out of the County Jail until her trial next month for Willfully Spreading Rabies at a School Playground.... And Eddie Clamflat is almost recovered from the ringworm and scalp parasites to....
"OH MY DOG!!!! I COMPLETELY FORGOT!!!!" I yelled into the phone. "THE DOG SITTERS ARE ON A SYMPATHY STRIKE WITH BOOTHBAY REGION PILE DRIVERS LOCAL 1847!!!! I AM SO SORRY! NO ONE CAN POSSIBLY CROSS THEIR PICKET LINES WITHOUT HAVING BAIT DUMPED ON THEIR LAWN!!! NO WONDER YOU'VE BEEN HAVING TROUBLE! ALL APOLOGIES!!!"
And then, as the English say, I "rang off" and attended to a customer waiting patiently at the counter to give me money in exchange for a lightly-ice-cream-stained dog collar. He didn't even demand a discount. My faith in humanity was restored.
 The phone rang. And again. And again. The customer looked at me with one eyebrow raised. "Spectrum Internet," I said. He dropped his eyebrow and smiled knowingly as he pocketed his change.
The phone rang a lot more that day from Area Code 403. I got a couple nasty messages that morphed into a couple of pleading messages. I'm sure there's a crappy review for me out there somewhere. I hope it doesn't affect my pet-sitting business too much.
Why was there no smoke from the sun if it was burning? I'd better stop at The Newagen Seaside Inn after work and begin investigations.
~ Don (Not a Dog)
CRIKEY!!!!
I got a lot of complaints and unsubscribes from last month's Coal Shack interjection, "Madre de Dios!"
Like this one: "I find your title as (sic) religiously offensive to the Blessed Virgin. Please choose something more appropriate!"
Apparently I was insulting Catholics by invoking "The Mother of God." In Spanish-speaking countries, this is analogous to "Oh My God!" which apparently doesn't upset Catholics with skull fractures.
Let's hope the Aussies, Brits, and Misc. among you don't see anything offensive in "CRIKEY!!!!" even though it's a euphemism for Christ.
Next month's interjection; "ZOUNDS!!!" which is a medieval contraction for the phrase "God's Wounds."
Unsubscribe now while you have the chance.
CHICKEN HEARTS - 3oz
 If you enjoy feeling like some creepy weirdo or some kind of low-level game show host, you'll love giving out little freeze-dried chicken hearts to your dogs and other heathen followers.
Two Salty Dogs GUARANTEES these are genuine chicken hearts and not a bunch of bat or frog or children hearts or anything like that. These are pure, freeze-dried chicken hearts. And we've only heard of them coming to life and chasing people around with sharp knives a couple times. Well, several times. Actually, the jury is out on that.
FINISH THEM BEFORE THE NEXT FULL MOON AND DON'T FEED THEM AFTER MIDNIGHT OR GIVE THEM WATER!
 Haha! Just kidding! Dogs love these little gruesome things! And they're nutritious. Don't be one of these dreadful dead weights who come into the shop and say, "CHICKEN HEARTS?!?!?! GROSS!!!!!" Because I will be forced to remind you that if your dog doesn't enjoy these freeze-dried chicken hearts, they'd just end up in hot dogs, sausage, Slim Jims, frozen burritos, Gummi Bears, Ensure nutritional shakes, Sparkl Water, or US Army MREs.
GRUESOME, DELICIOUS,
GENUINE, FREEZE-DRIED,
CHICKEN HEARTS
50.00000000000000000000001% OFF!
NOW JUST $8.37
USE COUPON CODE: ZOUNDS
<< Click HERE >>
TWO SALTY DOGS TRAVEL BOWLS
 I'm sure lots of you out there are addicted to Crystal Meth. But what about Crystal Light?
I admit to you that I completed an eight-week course in how to live my life without that sweet, sweet, calorie-free, synthetic powdered, lemonade-like drink.
Especially the Neon Pink one.
On a typical day, I woke up around 8pm and poured my first Crystal Light and Narragansett Ale into my Donny Dog Bowl. Then I would begin my journey.
Sometimes Crystal Light takes you on journeys that are much longer than 24 hours.
 I won't lie to you in this facetious Newsletter of mine. The design of this Dog Bowl was the only thing that saved me from a horror-filled life full of swank-less Caucasian weekend tennis matches at the end of identity-less cul-de-sacs, dozens upon dozens of lukewarm white wine spritzers, and the mosquito-soaked back patios of scores of milquetoast friends.
I got serious about my life and my talents and created these Folding Cloth Dog Water Bowls. I am now releasing them into the general public for only $5.75. Please support my swanky reform efforts.
FOLDING CLOTH DOG BOWLS
WAS $9.75. NOW ONLY: $5.75
Use Coupon Code: SWANKY
<< Click HERE >>
LOOP & LAUNCH
 Sometimes I get writer's block because I was addicted to Crystal Meth... errr... Light and Narragansett Ale for over 15 terrifying years. And then there were all the times I was forced to wear moccasins to various High-School functions. Not this time.
 This time I'm offering you a great Maine-Made product called the "Loop & Launch" for a discount. You can tell I really enjoy this product because I'm carpet-bombing something with Facebook likes. I hate Facebook. Talk about sending a mixed message.
 Never mind. These are great fetching toys. Liana and I tested them on the very fetching Marz and Auggie. They pass every Lab Test and are just as good as a Chuck-it.
Did I mention the balls float? They do. Did I mention they were Made In Maine? I did.
You won't see a price this low on these again. So put away the Narragansett Ale and DO something for a change.
LOOP & LAUNCH
LAUNCHER & BALLS
36.9481600299919% OFF!!!!
WAS $23.00 - NOW $14.50
Use Coupon Code: MOCCASINS
 Like any two people who have been in an exclusive, long-term relationship, Liana and I have things we argue about constantly. This begs the question why strangers would have long, protracted arguments of attrition about what to do about the proliferation of my skin-tags.
But first you must listen to all my monomaniacal tongue - lashings regarding Faceboook. And yes. I must misspell it or Zuckerberg will track and hunt me down like a rabid dog through the brambles and deep woods until I'm hanging from a moose weigh station with my guts hanging out.
Unfortunately, this is what I chose for my life instead of being a suburban sex beast.
Just buy these leashes at a discount, OK? I don't have the time or the will to coddle you anymore.
Yes. It includes the Weiss Walkie.
ALL ROPE LEASHES
32.000000000000000002% OFF
Use Coupon Code: SUBURBAN
<< Click HERE >>
Sniffin’ Around
The Boothbay Region
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AUGGIE'S 12th BIRTHDAY
WEDNESDAY, JULY 5th.
That .gif is from Aug's 4th birthday. Click on it to see the whole thing.
And no, Liana didn't just put a cake in front of Aug and take it away. I sent away to Lucas Arts CGI to get them to modify the film so that it only LOOKS like Liana is taking away the cake after setting it down. It cost hundreds of thousands of dollars for that special effect. We hope you like it.
You can tell Aug hates that stupid party hat. He's only wearing it because he knows if he doesn't Liana won't give him any cake.
This year we're (as usual) having doggie cake from Farm 23 and special treats around noon. Then us Bipeds will swap the content of our flasks and sing obscene U.S. Marine Marching songs until the flasks go empty or the police are called. |
THE NEWS FROM MARZ
WHO DID IT BEST?
Marz is a dog after my own heart. Why? He's always this strange, individualistic dog who skirts sanity with humor.
The older he gets, the more he remains the same. Observe:
Marz with 2-1/2 Brain Cells
Marz with 18 Brain Cells
Cast your vote here: fatmax@twosaltydogs.net
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The Harbor Dogs' Stories
(Formerly Max & Aug's Dog Blog)
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AUGUST ADVICE
 I was sitting antisocially at Robinsons Wharf as usual, and I was looking for a little photo / philm to pad out this whole albatross of a newsletter.
Then I came across this little vid of when Auggie was 10 weeks old and Max was 4 years old. The video quality is so crappy because it was from my ancient Blackberry. YES. I had a Blackberry in 2011. And I await the second Blackberry Revolution as eagerly as I await the Spin Doctor's induction into the Rock n' Roll Hall o' Flame. Sorry. Fame.
No matter.
This month, dogs from all over Maine write in and ask Auggie his advice on various topics from Grooming, to Walking Off-Leash, to Canine Revolution.
So get yourself a cup of Hot Chocolate or challenge infamous Boothbay Harbor Barfly "Spanish Paul" for free warm beer foam at local restaurants and click on "AUGUST ADVICE" -by Augustus Megatron Bulldozer Kingsbury.
P.S.
I'll be honest. This month's Harbor Dogs' Story is just a cheap knock-off of Auggie's great Curmudgeonly Pre-Covid Advice Column, "ASK AUGUSTUS" from March 1, 2019.
See You Next Month
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