Sailor here.
Well, Mom’s really done it this time. She’s confused me past the point of endurance. She says I have another leg. She says it’s somewhere on ACK paper. As near as I can tell, it’s like the Emperor’s New Leg undergoing puppy potty training, but this still doesn’t make any sense at all. Let me explain.
This morning before the sun was truly up, Mom and I harrupped ourselves into the big blue dog Behemoth and took off across the mud flats and slappy water. We parked and made our way down a hill, me carrying my backpack with all my stuff in it and Mom carrying my dog show crate and her chair. I also carried all her stuff, gentleman that I am. We set up camp, said Hi to our collie friends, and gave Mrs. Counterclockwise-Everybody a big smooch. Mom gave me some water, and I prepared myself for the usual Mom and Me in the Ring workshop.
But no, today was most unusual. Mom wasn’t her normal self. In fact, overnight she had turned into someone I didn’t know and didn’t particularly want to have anything to do with. She even made me dangle my prepositions and drool a bit at the mouth. She was acting decidedly odd.
“Having another Nervous A day, Mom?” I asked with a sigh. “Didn’t we get that all behind us months ago?”
“Uh, er, heel, heel,” Mom mumbled, turning in small circles.
I circled with her, concerned and puzzled.
Since I was younger than Mom, I got to ask, “Why is today different from all other days?”
Mom looked down at me. She looked up at the sky. She surveyed the rings, the people, and her friends. I surveyed her pockets, which were alarmingly empty.
“No different,” she said with a great big breath. “Thanks.”
I yawned to keep her company in her stress-relieving exercises. And did you know that pockets with no cheese are a bit like a place setting at dinner with no dinner guest? And no dinner? Before I could point this out, Mom called me to heel.
And away we went into the ring.
And away we came out of the ring after all the usual stuff. And back in for sits and downs. And back out. But today WAS different than any other day. It seems that somehow during the course of morning, I have acquired another leg!
Now, just where is it? And this brings my total of legs up to what number? Mom says I now have six. I can only see two most of the time with two more sometimes near my tummy when I lie down, but not always. So, I conclude that I have two always-legs, two sometimes-legs and two nebulous ones floating around Dog knows where waiting for the opportune time to attach themselves to me…somewhere.
I am a bit Nervous A all right waiting for those legs to strike. Mom says not to worry, though, they are obedient legs and will heel along with me with no trouble at all. And when I have acquired one more obedient leg, I will finally have that compact disk, the point of all this ring-with-no-cheese nonsense.
All in all, though, the day was fun. The best part was the cheese, and the next best part was the yellow squeaky monkey that matches my yellow third place ribbon. Mom can have the ribbon, it doesn’t taste very good. I will tease Zoe with the monkey next time I see her.
This morning before the sun was truly up, Mom and I harrupped ourselves into the big blue dog Behemoth and took off across the mud flats and slappy water. We parked and made our way down a hill, me carrying my backpack with all my stuff in it and Mom carrying my dog show crate and her chair. I also carried all her stuff, gentleman that I am. We set up camp, said Hi to our collie friends, and gave Mrs. Counterclockwise-Everybody a big smooch. Mom gave me some water, and I prepared myself for the usual Mom and Me in the Ring workshop.
But no, today was most unusual. Mom wasn’t her normal self. In fact, overnight she had turned into someone I didn’t know and didn’t particularly want to have anything to do with. She even made me dangle my prepositions and drool a bit at the mouth. She was acting decidedly odd.
“Having another Nervous A day, Mom?” I asked with a sigh. “Didn’t we get that all behind us months ago?”
“Uh, er, heel, heel,” Mom mumbled, turning in small circles.
I circled with her, concerned and puzzled.
Since I was younger than Mom, I got to ask, “Why is today different from all other days?”
Mom looked down at me. She looked up at the sky. She surveyed the rings, the people, and her friends. I surveyed her pockets, which were alarmingly empty.
“No different,” she said with a great big breath. “Thanks.”
I yawned to keep her company in her stress-relieving exercises. And did you know that pockets with no cheese are a bit like a place setting at dinner with no dinner guest? And no dinner? Before I could point this out, Mom called me to heel.
And away we went into the ring.
And away we came out of the ring after all the usual stuff. And back in for sits and downs. And back out. But today WAS different than any other day. It seems that somehow during the course of morning, I have acquired another leg!
Now, just where is it? And this brings my total of legs up to what number? Mom says I now have six. I can only see two most of the time with two more sometimes near my tummy when I lie down, but not always. So, I conclude that I have two always-legs, two sometimes-legs and two nebulous ones floating around Dog knows where waiting for the opportune time to attach themselves to me…somewhere.
I am a bit Nervous A all right waiting for those legs to strike. Mom says not to worry, though, they are obedient legs and will heel along with me with no trouble at all. And when I have acquired one more obedient leg, I will finally have that compact disk, the point of all this ring-with-no-cheese nonsense.
All in all, though, the day was fun. The best part was the cheese, and the next best part was the yellow squeaky monkey that matches my yellow third place ribbon. Mom can have the ribbon, it doesn’t taste very good. I will tease Zoe with the monkey next time I see her.
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