A Dog Tale:  Frances at work… or more like…. play.

Well, you all surely know how much I love my dogs. They are always doing things that warm my heart, or make me laugh, or just make me glad to be in their company.

So, tonight, a dog story…. a true one… that happened today.

We recently had some sod put down in our yard. Since the greenishness occurred, we’ve had a little bit of a squirrel party going on back there. It’s nuts.   This morning I looked out and there were five… all just sorta’ standing around the water cooler, drinking squirrel coffee and snacking on sticky pastries…. sorta’. At any rate, they were back there.

A little later, Frances went outside. She LIVES to chase a squirrel.  Any squirrel.   Honestly, it is one of her biggest joys in dog life… stalking Skippy and his pals. Well, she was out in the yard for a pretty long time this morning and I popped out on the back porch to observe her activities.   I inquired:   “France, what are you doing girl?”

She whips around, looks right at me, and spits a big nut out of her mouth. It looked like some kind of walnut… with the green covering still on it. Then, she almost flashed a doggy grin my way. I swear it looked like she was smirking.

So here’s my guess. She flounced at one of those squirrels…. scared the bejeezus right out of it, and that nut right out of its mouth. Skippy made a successful getaway up the trunk of a Palmetto tree…. but Frances recovered the nut. THEN, she taunted the squirrel for the rest of the morning. Carrying that nut around in her mouth, spitting it out just far enough to tease the squirrel…. even tempt it….

…. and that was her game.  Another day at the office for my little trickster…..  such a great girl.

I went to Joke Writing School when I was in my 20s. I think it was a bit of a scam.  Our instructor was a real clown. We paid a lot in tuition. And the book fees… were huge.  My favorite textbook was “Blonde Joke Essentials:  The Theory, Practice, and Origins of Ditz Humor.”   At any rate, I don’t think they did such a great job of developing our wit.  On the upswing:  I did get a free whoopie cushion at graduation. And one of those nifty little buzzers that you wear on the inside of your hand…..

Some of my failed attempts at Joke Writing 101. (Don’t laugh…. although, I don’t see that as being a problem.)

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Three blind mice walk into a pub. They are all unaware of their surroundings, so to derive humor from it would be exploitative.

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What’s brown and sticky? A stick.

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An Irishman walks out of a bar.

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Knock knock.

Who’s there?

To.

To who?

To whom.

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A man walks into a bar. Except it was a metal bar, like a pole. So he got hurt.

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A visibly exhausted and distressed man walks into a bar and orders a strong drink.

“Long day?” the bartender asks.

“No, all days are 24 hours long” the man replies, amazed at how uneducated the bartender is.

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While riding down a busy street, a Jew gets a flat tire on his bike.   What does he do?
He fixes the tire.

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The Republican Party many nominate Donald Trump for their Presidential Candidate. Sarah Palin is pissed.

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Here’s a little thing about me.  I cry at the end of Toy Story 3.  Not just once, but every stinking time.  How many times am I going to cry at the end of that movie?  Probably on every occasion that I watch it.  Which have been numerous….thus far.

I’m not sure why it affects me as it does.  Childhood lost?  Or is it that I just can’t stand to say goodbye?   Who knows.

Other movies that make me sob uncontrollably….  Brian’s Song;  West Side Story;  Dead Poet’s Society.  Those are a few.  I never used to cry at movies.  Heck, in college they used to call me Stony Krony because I wouldn’t shed a single tear at the flicks.  At least, I think that is why they called me Stony Krony.  I mean…..a.) I never threw rocks at any one, and b.) I never inhaled. 😉

I love the entire Toy Story trilogy though.  Each and every one.  The best line, in any movie EVER, comes from Toy Story 2, when Mrs. Potato Head says to her husband…. “I packed your extra pair of shoes… and your angry eyes…   just in case.” Now wouldn’t that be neat-o pete-o.  Just whip out your angry eyes when you need them… or your happy face…. or…

Do you know how many times in my life I’ve heard…”Well you can just wipe that silly grin right off your face little Missy.”  If only it were that easy…..

Mr. Potato Head, I am not.

What is that dang old series on PBS?  The one where the English guy sits in the chair, and reads verses, and poetry,  and such?  Master something…. why won’t it come to me?

At any rate, those Brits can say just about anything and sound good.   They could read a stinking dishwasher manual and sound smart.    But reading, and writing, are two entirely different things.  I think I might be able to write some natty poetry, so I am going to try my hand at it.

For your consideration, I have revamped a few of the classics….

“Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star,
How I wonder why it are…
When I hear water running by…
I just might tinkle on my thigh.”

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“Mary had a Little Lamb,
Whose shanks were wide as a bus,
Mary saw the cash at hand,
And called the Butcher, Gus.”

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“Rub-a-dub-dub, three men in a tub,
and who do you think they’d be?
A sailor, a bailer, and a letter mailer,
When I hear water run, I pee.”

Holy Smackerels.    This is much, much harder than I thought…..  AND….  at my age, it seems I always end up talking about peeing.

It looks as though I need some smartening up in the poetry-writing department.  Until then…. watching PBS will smarten you right up….. AND, help your English accent.

“Sing a song of sixpence, a pocket full of nigh.
Four and twenty reasons to keep on wondering why….”

I am not real crazy about chain letters, chain gangs, chain link fences, chain reactions, chains of command, or chain stores.

I used to be a chain smoker.  Not any more.  I wasn’t real crazy about being a chain smoker, either.

But a chain on its own it kind of a cool thing.  A series of links all connected to one another.  An interconnected sequence.  Yep.  Now THAT is snappy as can be.

And that’s how it goes sometimes.

People have faith in all sorts of things.  Many people believe in God, or a Higher Power.  I am one.  But a lot of people believe in other things too.  Like Aliens.  Ghosts. Magic.  Things like Bigfoot and the Loch Ness Monster.  Books have been published on every topic.  Kazillions of studies have transpired, and the like.  Many times, there isn’t too much substantial proof…. but who are we to say?  They do it largely on trust and belief.  I mean, what about Easter Island, Stonehenge, and Crop Circles?

I have another postulation about some of life’s happenings.  It is a scarcely known fact.  Beyond us exists an entire realm of little people.  Not little, like insignificant.  And not like the people who are born shorter than normal.  No.  The Little People.  I’ve known about them since I was very young.  They are small…. about an inch and three-quarters, maybe two inches tall.  Not much more.  And they do all sorts of things.

Sometimes they are very helpful.  Like fixing an electrical wire in a wall that you didn’t know was frayed.  Or unclogging your drain from time to time…. but not if you keep dumping grease, and corn, down there.  Other times…. they are mischievous.  They will drag just one of your socks away and hide it forever.  On certain occasions, they will put your keys in the refrigerator, and the milk in the pantry.  I’ve even known them to blow out candles, unlock doors, relocate rings and other jewelry.

Every once in a while you will catch a glimpse of one.  It will be that little something that you see from the corner of your eye.  But when you take a good look, there is nothing there.  As you may have guessed….. they are extremely fast and nimble…. excellent hiders.  The Little People.  Not Minions…. or Munchkins. Not Gnomes, and certainly not Lilliputians.  The Little People.  As sure as I am sitting here.

I am curious about a few things.  Let’s face it.  This has been a chronic problem with me since childhood…. this curiosity deal.  Like when I was about eight, I wanted to know why Sister Adriana had hair on her chin. Lots of it, I might add.  So…. I asked Sister Eunice.   Something along the lines of “Is Sister Adriana like the Three Little Pigs?” Needless to say, that wasn’t my smartest move ever.

But there are other things that have come up in this little cranium of mine.  Like…. What exactly is a Rear Admiral?  I don’t think I’d want to be a Rear Admiral if I were in the Armed Forces…. What is it, really?

And…..Navy?  That’s another.  Why is the Navy called the Navy?  Why not the Dark Blue?

Were there woodpeckers on Noah’s Ark?

Why do they put little tiny holes in saltine crackers?  Since Polly always wants a cracker, I think I have a right to know.

When we are extremely happy, they say we are “Head Over Heals…..”  Isn’t that pretty much how we normally are?

If an Atheist goes to court, do they have to swear on the Bible?

How come McDonald’s doesn’t sell hotdogs?  I think we need a McHotDiggityDawg.

Why is it, you can kill a deer and hang its head on your wall….. but it is illegal to keep one as a pet?

Who decided Red means Stop and Green means Go?

Did Lizzie Borden really do it?

I feel okay asking most of these things these days.  I don’t think Sister Eunice is around anymore to whip my butt….or if she is…. I bet I can run faster than her now.

But wouldn’t you know it?  These days, I GET HAIR on my chinny-chin-chin.

When I was a kid, I thought Leonardo Da Vinci was the coolest thing in the world.  Leo and Al.  (Einstein, that is.)  As it turns out, I still think they are.  Wonder Cookies!  They were Incredible Eggs, right out of the ovary…..  some people JUST ARE.

Today is Da Vinci’s Birthday. (1452)  This is also the anniversary of the sinking of the Titanic. (1912)  (I just recently saw that movie.  SHOCKED by the ending….. you see……. I had a really good feeling about that ship.)

Abraham Lincoln died on today’s date also. (1865)  It was nine hours after John Wilkes Booth shot him at point blank at the Ford Theatre.

On a lighter note… (no pun intended)…. Jackie Robinson became baseball’s first black major league player when he debuted with those Good Ol’ Brooklyn Dodgers.  (1947)

And here’s one for the Burger King in you… McDonald’s restaurant dates its founding to the opening of a franchised restaurant by Ray Kroc, in Des Plaines, Illinois.  McHistory. (1955)

So as you can see, the fifteenth of April is a legendary day.  It is good, and bad, and ugly, at times.

But here is one that I’m not soon to forget… in 1969 on this date, the three astronauts, Armstrong, Aldrin, and Collins voted to take Moon Pies on their upcoming flight to the surface of the moon.    They did so…. took the Moon Pies with  them when walking the surface of the moon, and when they returned home, ate the Moon Pies.  It was the first time a human consumed food that had been to the moon.  Cross my heart, and my tide pool…. it’s the truth.

…And THAT is McMoonie.  By the light of the silvery moon, it is a wonderful night for a moondance.  By the Moon River.  ….. where I’m being followed by a moon shadow, moon shadow, moon shadow.  Blue Moon.

To the moon, Alice.  To the moon.

Boy oh boy.  Sometimes, I’m a little outnumbered, I’ll tell you.  I have a slew of friends that are gifted horticulturists.  Those whacky gardeners.   Me?  Well…. I’m more of your garden-variety carnivore.  I love plants, as long as they are sauteed in lots of butter, or come laying next to a nice piece of steak.

But back to my floriculturist friends…. two of my dearest pals… let’s just call them Mary and Janet (to protect the innocent)…. they are quite the bud-maestros, I’ll tell you.  We’ll be walking along somewhere …. ANYWHERE…. and they’ll say to one another….  “Oh look Mary, there’s a Great Northern Blue Buckeye Tree!”  And Mary will say, “You’re right Janet… but look over THERE.  See that Yellow Mimosa Oriental Tulip Bush?”  And on, and on they go.

Janet has a garden of Eden in her backyard.  It really is quite beautiful.

I never know what things are called.  I just make names up….  like a “Climbing Blue Crusty Phlox Berry” or a “Canadian Yellow Dwarf Violet”…..  “Swampy Moist Wood Oak”… and such.

Then they will shake their heads, in utter disgust… and counter with… “No Polly.  Don’t be silly…..  That’s a Jack-in-the-Pulpit” or uhhhhh…. “It’s a Snapdragon”….

Yeah, right.  Hmmmph.  Like there are ANY plants called THAT.  What?  Do they think I just fell off the turnip truck?

Did I mention I like turnips?  Fried up in loads of butter……  With a big fat juicy steak.

You run into a lot of great people in this town….I just met this one guy, and we’ve become pretty good friends.  But he’s a bit of a Klutz….
… he keeps falling into potholes…. the guy’s name is Phil.

We have a very nice neighbor (…her name is Maggie)… she’s about our age, and has a really cute little grandson.  He swallowed some coins they had on display in their home the other day.  Maggie phoned the hospital to see how he was doing.  To which the nurse said…  “No change yet.”

The cable guy was here today.  Told us a very sweet story, as he worked…..”Two antennas met on a roof, fell in love and got married. The  ceremony wasn’t much, but the reception was excellent.”

Driving a car downtown here is crazy!  Especially with a huge monster of an SUV like mine.  The other day, I could not pull out of my parking space, so I used my back up plan.

One of life’s great truths… especially in the South:
Seven days without grits……   makes one weak.

In the news….. Who ELSE is getting tired of hearing about this Royal Wedding Hoopla that’s coming about.  William and Kate is it?  (I’ve had enough already….)  But here is an interesting tidbit about that country across the Pond….  England doesn’t have a kidney bank……  but it does have a Liverpool.

Finding my inspiration to write is sometimes very difficult for this thing.  But I heard that others have had troubles coming up with stories to pen.  Like this…..  Charles Dickens was despondent in a Paris bar, telling the bartender “It is the worst of times, for I am without an idea for a new work. Let me partake of a vodka martini,” to which the bartender responded “Olive or twist?”

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………… enough Corn for one night…. more than enough corn.