Stories and other stuff

Snot was, without a doubt, a snot. His name fit him.  He was a black and white, smallish pussycat.   At his best, I don't think he ever weighed more than eight pounds, soaking wet.  I never saw Snot wet. Most cats, as the old wives' tale goes, are afraid of water, but not Snot.  I think water was afraid of HIM. Snot was Wendi's pussycat and unfortunately, his journey came to an end a couple of days ago.  I'm told he went peacefully and I'm thankful for that.  I have a great many fond memories of that little furball. I have to say this...I don't particularly like pussycats.  I think it's a waste of time to name them because by and large, they just ignore you.  Cats are just kind of there, for the most part.  Wendi's pussycats were different, though.  They could do stuff.  Snot could open doors.  Seriously, he figured out how to hang on to and twist doorknobs.  I didn't believe this until I saw him do it.  Noth...

I talk a lot about my dumb dog, Bucket.  You may wonder about the name.  We got him from Petco on adoption day.  I didn't go looking for a dog.  He kind of found us.  We took him out on a leash, got to know him a little bit and left the store.  As we drove through the parking lot, I told the wife, "Something tells me we gotta get this dog".  I don't know what it was, but I knew Bucket was meant to be a part of our family.  It wasn't until about a month ago that I knew why. I literally gave my last penny to get Bucket.  We didn't pick the name.  He came with it.  He was found wandering around by Smith & Edwards.  After a time, nobody claimed him, so he was rescued by a family who rescues animals.  He was named Bucket, because as the woman told us, her husband said he's so dumb he has to carry his brains around in a bucket.  The name kind of stuck and here we are. As I write this, he's playing with his favorite ...

You may recall hearing this little gem:  "No good deed goes unpunished...." I had to run to the store this morning.  I really need to quit smoking.  The beagle was out in the back yard so I thought I'd sneak out with Bucket for a little daddy/doggie time with him.  As soon as I picked up the leash and had Bucket hooked up, there's the beagle peering in through the glass with this excited look on her face.  She likes to go bye-bye, so I decided to take her too. The beagle is getting old and fat.  She can't quite jump up in the truck anymore.  She tried and missed.  As I went to help her, the leash slipped out of my hand and Bucket was off like a gazelle. I looked for an hour and couldn't find him.  As usual, someone did and turned him in to the doggie police. I met the nicest man today.  He's a dog catcher.  He had my dog, so a praise to the Lord for having him not hit by a car or taken away from me.  He makes me laugh. ...

Cats and dogs are supposed to be natural enemies.  Wendi has this pussycat that can't weigh more than four pounds, soaking wet, who used to beat up my dog Katie on a regular basis, for no other reason than he could.  Snot hated dogs.  The dog was AFRAID of this pussycat.  It used to make the wife laugh every time it happened. Fast forward to today.  Snot doesn't live with me anymore, but the fear that pussycat put into my dog lives on and on. There is a family of wild pussycats that live in my back yard.  June feeds them, but it doesn't stop them from hunting.  They're pretty adept hunters.  I keep them around because we live so close to the mountains and because of the bushes planted in the small hillside in my backyard, rats and other critters have cover to live.  The pussycats do their job.  One had a small rat for lunch yesterday afternoon. Three of these pussycats will allow us to pet them, but the rest are afraid of us. ...

Editorial note:  Max was the name of the little boy Wendi and I were trying to adopt at one point in our lives.   I couldn't make this story up.  Most of you won't get it, sorry.  The details aren't for the blog, but a few will make the connection: I found my dog from a KSL ad.  The people that picked him up started calling him Max.  He's home now. Just so you know, I think of him often, and I wonder, where is he now?  If he's with them, I don't think the result would have been any different with us. How could I ever look at Bucket and not think about Max? How random though, the name?  Lots of random stuff like that happens to me.  I'll get in the truck and hear Alien Ant Farm's Smooth Criminal on Z-rock.  Why do they only play that stupid song when I happen to be in the truck?  How old is that tune?  I heard it twice last week. Just another day in my life, y'all.  Not bad today.  I got my doggie back...