Monday, February 20, 2012

Unleash The Hounds!

We couldn't believe our luck. Big Foot, Harriet and I had finally rounded up the dogs and begged them to stop running. All day we'd been forging through the woods, behind the dogs, who'd gotten the scent of a deer, then a rabbit, the occasional squirrel.

Out of breath, streaked with sweat, even Big Foot was panting. The dogs were laying down, napping in a state of weariness, finally they'd worn themselves out.

I wanted to get back to the cottage, the hole in the hill, Colonel's Dale. I was riding Harriet, and from my vantage point, I called out to Victor, the chief Mastiff: “Vic, are you satisfied, have you had your fun?” 


“Oh Sam, it was glorious, did you see? We have had a wonderful day!” They  didn't catch anything, or track anything down, all they'd done was chase animals they'd never find.

“I saw, Victor. Now which way is the Dale?”

Victor looked around, back and forth, sniffed the air in an oh so serious manner and promptly fell asleep.

Never one to miss a nap, I curled up on Harriet's forehead, between her ears.

The lot of us had gathered our second wind as evening came, with Victor walking out in front, the rest of his pack looking to stretch their strides again, yet loyal to the pack, limited by their instinct to follow their leader. We came up to the Dale, and then the cottage, Victor pacing us. He'd found my cottage after all, a pleasantness began to settle over me, a cup of tea beckoned from within.

Big Foot went off into the woods, Harriet made her way into the Barn, I heard the familiar voice of Uncle Freddie, as if he'd had a cocktail or two.

Stumbling through the stoop, he shouted, a bit too loud: “Good to see ya, Sammy!!” Victor and the pack made their way in to the cottage, dogs akimbo, sprawling on my sofas, leather chairs, everywhere were floppy ears, and stretched limbs. All of them made themselves quite at home, proud of their day's achievements, comfortable.

Wiggling  to the kitchen, I put on the tea kettle, and pulled a tin of blueberry scones. I was thinking of a couple of tweets I could send out about this day's adventures. So nice to be home after wandering the woods.

An ear splitting sound rocked my bliss. Uncle Freddie was blasting the hunting horn, a gift from the Roving Black Footed Ferrets of the Prairie. Of a sudden motion, every single dog started barking and howling, and carrying on. Leading the noise was Victor, that beast!! 

What a noise, Uncle Freddie blasting the horn, the dogs, all on their feet, noses lifted ceilingward as they barked, howled, and raised the roof.

“Unleash the Hounds!!!!!!!!!” Uncle Freddie cried at the top of his lungs, a throwback to a mid-evil world as if he were the chief huntsman. Freddie flung open the door, raising his glass all a flourish,  and yelled again: “UNLEASH THE HOUNDS!!!!!! and out they went, the youngest pup, Marvin,  who after spinning his paws on the entry way, thought better of it all, and decided home is where the blueberry scones are.  Off the rest leaped, into the woods, into the dark of night, on a mission they knew not where. It'd be hours before they realised they didn't even know what they were chasing.

Marvin Aint No Fool

“Size 24, Harriet and I spent all day chasing those dogs.”

To which Uncle Freddie tipsily replied, “I needed a place to sit” 


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Wednesday, February 8, 2012

The Biggest News of the Day

Geraldo Moustache Rivera was once a fine attorney. He sat in his office listening to the police scanner, and raced to the scene of automobile accidents. Very opportunistic. Having tried his luck at being a shyster he went into Journalism. Then TV. Then he wrote a tell all book where he confessed to having sex with anything that moved. Quite a career. So I have learned that one has to be pretty fast getting to the good stories before the attorney/journalists.

So it is wif my Twitter Attorney, @PiperBayard who is now a professional belly dancer, blogger, and story chaser. One time I was gonna do a story on the lost pygmies of Borneo - I get to Borneo, she's in the jungle teaching them how to surf the Internet.  Then I was gonna send my Uncle Freddie to Sweden to do a story on hot new massage techniques... He get's off the plane, and to his first appointment: There's @PiperBayard soaking in the hot tub!!

So it goes in the rough and tumble world of the sleuth. We eat our own young if we have to. Let alone our attorney. (Officially, I don't think they are edible) Her headline today? Marriage Proposals and Bass Boats.  I mean, how was I to compete wif dat???? So I went out and scoured the entire Internet. Searched 54 Billion pages, did a quick speed read, and found a couple of hot topics.


Absolutely Shocking!! hard to fathom the depravity of some pet humans!!

no, they are not streaking across golf courses, no they are not TIVOing American Idol, no, even worse!! 19,000 have “Liked” a Facebook page of In Bread Cats!!!


And their Counterpart, which only has 20 “Likes” STOP INBREAD CATS has some catching up to do.

It is interesting to note that "STOP INBREAD CATS"   A.  Is not very popular and B. Has absolutely no problem using a cat in a piece of bread on his Facebook.

And of course, we can't be too high brow here, so a little story that is more mainstream:


yea, blame the lovely dog. The author of that story is right. This guy should get extra time, just for saying the doggy did it.

I also beat @PiperBayard on this one:


(Reuters) - South African police have arrested a suspected fraudster for impersonating the award-winning traditional singer Khulekani Kwakhe "Mgqumeni" Khumalo, who died in 2009.
The unnamed man, who appeared in court in the eastern KwaZulu-Natal province on Tuesday, had said he had not died but was kidnapped by a witchdoctor who cast a spell on him and imprisoned him in a cave with zombies, local media reported.
Thousands of people in Khumalo's rural eastern home village of Esiggumeni, turned out to see the man at the weekend. Riot police with truncheons and water cannons were deployed to keep the crowd under control.
"I have always been alive," he was quoted as telling the crowd by the Independent Online news site. "I have lost a lot of weight but it is me."
Police said the suspect's fingerprints do not match those of the famed singer. The man also does not have the same scars on his face as Khumalo had.
"Detectives conducting the enquiry were convinced that the matter required criminal investigation," police said in a statement. (Ed Note: chuckle, chuckle)

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p.s.  also, so you don't think you can outwit her.  I once asked PiperBayard: "Have you lived in Colorado all your life?"  she replied:  "Not Yet"

Sunday, February 5, 2012

Shopping Got Me Into Family Counseling

 I have found pet humans to be quite entertaining if they can't find a way to lower the volume. We were at an important pet human meeting a couple of weeks ago which conflicted at that very moment, with Scooby Doo on Cartoon Network.  One of my favorites!!  I cranked up the volume, and voila'

  That was the end of that meeting.

I was not happy to miss the finale of the show. To console me, the pet human said: “Don't give me that look, Sammy.  Not once in the history of Scooby Doo, have he and Shaggy NOT found the bad guy... you know how it ends” … still, it's nice to know whether the dastardly deed was done by the caretaker or the old man in town dressed in a wig.

Today, I found myself in da therapist's office for what is called: “family counseling” wif my pet human. Not as spiffy as my therapist's office, but not bad. I kept my eye on da tv remote on her sofa armrest, in case I wanted to nibble the mute button.

The therapist to pet human: “We've covered this before. You and Sammy should not go shopping together. Are ferrets even allowed in stores?”

Pet Human: “They make exceptions for Sam”

Yea, right. The pet human likes an audience. I ham it up for the cashiers.

Therapist: “There was that time he talked you into cornering the market on Pop Tarts, and you overdrew your bank account, and I had to calm you down over the phone”

The tv remote was looking mighty good. I knew I wuz missing re runs of Sienfeld.

Pet Human: “He convinced me that we would get rich, you know, supply and demand.”

Therapist: “Or the time he influenced you to buy all the plastic spoons, because he likes to play with them, and you realized you really can't do anything with a closet full of plastic spoons”

The therapist saw me looking toward the TV remote, probably confused that I was paying her rapt attention.   

Pet Human: “I can't eat ice cream with them, they break off in  the carton, but they work once it softens up a bit”

I couldn't believe these two. The dog and cat aren't forced to endure such madness.

Human: “He conned me into it this time. I said I was going to 7-11, and he jumped in the car, and threatened to crawl into the back, and I'd never find him”

Therapist: “You need to establish boundaries with Sam”

This was the part where Cramer talks Jerry into peeing in the parking lot, they couldn't find the car, and Jerry get's belayed by Security.  I knew I  was missing it.

Human: “Then somehow, he urged me toward the grocer instead of 7-11”

Therapist: “It would also help if you set a budget before you leave the house”

I wiggled into the therapist's lap, gave her a snuggle, she responded with a noticeable, albeit small smirk, almost a smile, a very small one. 

Ascentmindedly, she stroked my white fur, gently, as I eyed the remote.

Human: “And when we got there, he just kept saying: 'dat one, dat one, dat one'  in a very insistent tone”

Therapist: “We all want to take care of those we love” she was now on my side, some therapist.

So I snagged the TV remote, without too much fuss, and lept off the sofa arm.

Human: “And he wouldn't stop. 'Dat one. Dat one....and dat one' we had three cartloads of stuff, I don't even know what half of it is. I just bought it. It's like he's got mind control tricks”

I found Seinfeld, and cranked up the volume.

Startled, the Therapist thought she could get the remote handily. Instead, I knawed off the volume, and mute buttons for good measure.

That ended the family counseling session. So much for boundaries.

Oh. Cramer, Jerry and Elaine found the car.


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