Brandon

Perhaps obsessiveness runs in the family.  I myself have not escaped the curse; as you know, I've watched this video about 864 times, lately I can't stop ordering takeout from Currylicious, and let's be honest: I still remember my 7th grade crush's home phone number, for that was the depth of my obsession (notice I said crush--this dream was never realized).


But I think my dad is worse than me.  His most recent obsession?  A termite-sniffing beagle.


My dad travels a lot for work, and claims that he found an article about "Brandon" in a hotel magazine.  Evidently, Brandon and his owner are the greatest new thing in pest control; the owner walks Brandon through the inside & outside of the house, and Brandon scratches wherever there are termites.  He is allegedly far more effective than humans or machines.  

It all started when my stepmom, sister, and I received this email from Dad:




Kit Kiefer

to Amy, me, Kate
show details Jan 18 (9 days ago)
You have to watch the video! Unbelievable!

http://www.pestfree.com/meet-brandon
I couldn't get the video to load, but I figured it was just another one of the billions of dog-related things that he sends us all too frequently, so I shrugged it off.  However, Dad fired back:  YOU MUST SEE IT!  GOOGLE "BRANDON PEST CONTROL!"  So I did, hoping for something amazing.

Well . . . I mean, it is what it is.  I suppose it is mildly entertaining that this dog is so well-trained that he can detect termites.  But my enthusiasm for the whole thing gets me about as for as 0:24 into the video.

But my dad's outta control, y'all.   He's been signing emails to me: 

"Love you! (and Brandon),
Dad"

After fielding a couple phone calls from him just to talk about Brandon, I answered his last one, "Dad, is this call about Brandon?"  To which his answer was, " . . . . yes."

All of us but one have dismissed this as a period of temporary lunacy.  The one who's holding out?  You guessed it--Ignatius.

not a happy camper

Ignatius is pissed that all of Dad's attention is now on another beagle, and one that he's never even met, at that.  Ignatius is supposed to be the star of the show!  Who cares if he can't sniff termites??  

(This next part requires me to confess to y'all that Ignatius has a facebook page.  But by now my dad's sanity has already been discredited, so it should come as no surprise).  

Prior to checking out Ignatius's facebook page in the heat of all this "Brandon" stuff, I figured the funniest part about the whole ordeal was that the beagle's name is "Brandon."  Isn't it funny when pets have totally human names?  Cracks me up.  In any case, then I saw Ignatius's facebook status, and I laughed hard enough to see the value in all this: 






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