Today, the UGA Bulldogs won their first SEC Championship game since 2017 in dominating fashion. Hooray!

But the real news of the day is that I have a new dog.

Like Henry before him, this good boy is a rescue puppy whose first family couldn't care for him. His original name was Ricky, though his temporary foster parents discovered he didn't seem to know it. They renamed him Coco Puff, but he never really cottoned to that name, either. Mom decided we might as well call him something that sounded good alongside "Henry."

(Side note: I might have ambushed Mom with the idea of a new dog just yesterday, so she justifiably needed some appeasing before she would allow another standard poodle in her house run by Audrey the Hungry Havanese — whose birthday is tomorrow! If that means Mom gets to name my new dog, so be it.)

Therefore, allow me to introduce Louis, pronounced like a French king, unless you're my dad, who insists on saying it "the American way."

Of course, I'm particularly sensitive to whether Henry might get his feelings hurt by having a new dog in the house, so I woke up early (for me) to take Henry to the PetSmart in Peachtree City for an interview with his prospective new playmate. As it happens, the Peachtree City PetSmart is right beside a cemetery, and when Henry and Louis (nee Coco) politely paused their inaugural rollicking to let a group of funeral-bound mourners pet them, I was pretty sure we were going to be all right.

I'm quite pleased that Louis is a brown poodle, a first for my family. White poodles can be pretty, but you really have to keep them on their pedestal, especially on rainy days when playing with new puppies in the mud.

Immediately after this picture was taken, I introduced Louis to my bathtub. It was an eventful day, indeed.

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Mom went out of town for the week and left me in care of her two-and-a-half-months-old puppy, Audrey, who has been conditioned to Mom's 9 to 5 schedule. I also work 9 to 5. However, my 9-5 is on the other side of the clock. As you can guess, I haven't been getting a lot of sleep.

As much as I love dogs, I'm not big on puppies. Audrey is no exception. She's cute and all, but I'm not sure it's worth the trade off in trouble. For example, the first thing she did on the first day Mom was out of town was start digging into a fire ant pile. I grabbed her and tried to brush off the ants. So far as I can tell, puppy went unscathed. I got bit. A lot.

While I was treating my wounds, puppy turned her demonic path of destruction on my geriatric poodle. July's no fan of puppy, but that never detours Audrey. She nips and nips and nips until July finds a safe hiding place. That day, there were no places safe from puppy. Through the use of either her needle sharp teeth or razor sharp claws, Audrey cut open the sebaceous cyst under July's right eye. I left the bathroom to find blood everywhere. The house looked like a war zone.

Since then, Audrey has spent a lot of time in her kennel.

Mom came back yesterday, which is good. If she'd waited much longer, there wouldn't have been much of a home to come back to. The little devil is her problem now.

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Everyone say hello to Mom's new dog.

Audrey is an 8 week old Havanese parti-colored puppy. She already likes to chew and nap. If she grows to enjoy a glass of wine, she and Mom will be best friends forever.

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My mother has had Chewie put down.

This is actually only the second time I've ever mentioned Chewie on this blog. I never really liked the little jerk. Yes, he had a rough early few years. His life was much improved when my Mom rescued him. However, he never became what I would call an affectionate or an obedient dog. But Mom still liked him. She's put up with me for all these years, so I guess she must have developed some fondness for stubborn assholes. Go figure.

In recent months, Chewie developed Canine Cognitive Dysfunction, the dog equivalent of Alzheimer's. He walked in circles, got stuck under furniture, and stood by his full dog dish barking for food. Even for Chewie, he was becoming higher maintenance than usual, to the point that Mom could no longer meet his needs.

So that's the second dog we've lost in 2016. (The third if we count Dad's puppy, Tyr, who died in March.) We're running out.

Watch yourself, July. It's dangerous out there.

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My father has two new puppies, sister and brother litter mates! They're so young, they don't even have names yet.

Dad says they're supposed to be Great Pyrenees, but the breed standard requires that Great Pyrenees be pretty much all white. It looks to me like they are some mix of GP and something else. Whatever their genetic heritage, they are 100% adorable.

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And now, for the rest of the story. Or at least the rest of the movies I watched in November.

192. (729.) The V.I.P.s (1963)
The two classic actors that American loves and I just don't care for are Marlon Brando (hack!) and Elizabeth Taylor. Maybe I had to grow up with them. In this film, she's constantly overshadowed by husband Richard Burton, who is a great actor. But then, so is almost everyone else in this movie, including Orson Welles, who appears to be parodying himself.

193. (730.) It's a Small World (1950)
An exploitation flick following the life of a midget who learns that his natural place is in the circus. I'm sure everyone involved felt great about themselves.

194. (731.) It's a Big Country (1951)
This propaganda film is an anthology of short stories featuring many of MGM's biggest stars. The whole thing is spliced together with a Movietone news-style narration. It's a great movie for Americans who love ABC News' "America Strong" public interest segments.

195. (732.) Slither (1973)
I initially confused this with Dirk Benedict's Sssssss, which was also made in '73, but this James Caan movie has nothing to do with snakes. Or logic. It's a road/crime comedy, and completely enjoyable.

196. (733.) The Last Time I Saw Archie (1961)
Premise: Jack Webb and Robert Mitchum are army recruits who live life their own way until hilarity ensues. Except not so much. Webb, of course, is his usually stiff, smug self, but Mitchum seems to be phoning it in in an untaxing role.

197. (734.) Fanny and Alexander (1982)
Seeing this on the channel guide in September, Mom told me to record it. Then she promptly refused to watch it for the next two months. Tired of seeing it sitting there, unloved, I decided to give a try solo. What a terrible decision. Most critics seem to think that this, almost Ingmar Bergman's last film, is something of a masterpiece. I say that if you can't even tell your audience what your plot is after an hour, you're being self-indulgent beyond the definition of narcissism.

As a general rule, I only list movies here I've seen at least halfway through. But I bailed only 1/3 of the way through this snoozefest. However, since I gave this movie an hour of my life, and it gave me nothing in return, I'm counting it!

Here's what I gathered from that hour: three generations of a formerly wealthy Swedish family go about life in 1907. The womenfolk watch amused as their men drink and curse and fuck the hired help (poorly!). And that's your hour! Time well spent.

The screenshot above was when I knew I was done with the film. When you've spent an hour, and the most rewarding thing you've seen is throwaway dialogue designed to illustrate the humdrum gossip of servants living their lives vicariously through others, you realize that there are better ways to be spending your own time. No surprise this was the last film I watched in November.

More to come. Probably.

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My Memorial Day Weekend has not gone as expected. The good news is Dad brought his new standard puppy, Scarlett, to visit my girls.

Scarlett is 3 months old and her sweet exterior hides a soul of pure trouble. If puppies weren't so cute, we'd smother them in their sleep. But Scarlett isn't the reason I've accomplished nothing this year. That honor goes to Dad's other new addition, Nanny.

When Dad picked her up, she wouldn't eat and had Scours, which is what vets call goat diarrhea. It gets hard to get things done when you are bottle-feeding nutrients to a 4-week-old goat every 3 hours.

Now if you'll excuse me, I've got a barking puppy to tend to.

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Filming for Puppy Bowl VIII begins today in New York City. Last year's Puppy Bowl drew nearly 10 million viewers for Animal Planet. If puppies and football make such a great combination, maybe Animal Planet needs to look into some other puppy sports.

The hockey Puppy Cup could go on for 7 days, but it might be a bit dangerous to give all those puppies sticks and put them on ice. Tennis' Puppledon would no doubt be cute with all the British-accented barking, but no puppy would be able to pass the dress code. The Tour de Puppy would certainly be dragged down by all the doping accusations. And as much as dogs love cars, no one is going to tune in for the messes made on a PuppieCar track.

The event with the best chance for success is probably PuppyMania. Taking a page from the originator of sports-entertainment, PuppyMania would boggle the mind with the cuteness of the 24-dog Puppy Rumble. Only one puppy would emerge victorious from the dreaded Cage Match. Naturally, the closing number could be the ever-popular Wag Team Championship Match.

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