Pop the Top

Heard around the house Thursday -

BUDDY:  It sure is quiet around here.  Where is everyone?  I thought we were going to work on tomorrow's post. 

RUSTY:  I'm just hanging out on the computer tower.  The others are napping here and there. It's pretty boring when the biggest excitement of the day is Jan wandering around creaking and groaning.

TAYLOR:  I hear it's going to be getting exciting.  Thunderboomies are on the way.  I don't like them.

BUDDY:  Well, we did have a little excitement this morning.  Remember the guy who said he would come save Jan from having to finish cutting the grass with shears?  He showed up at 9 A.M. and kept his word.

RUSTY:  Yes, this Knee High To Jan grass sure was thick and hard to cut.  Jan says she feels like she's been hit by a truck and she didn't quite finish half the job.

TAYLOR:  I guess she won't be getting paid for it then?

BUDDY:  She doesn't get paid for it.  She does things like that because she loves pain.

RUSTY:  He's joking, Taylor.  She does them because she has to so we can continue to live here. 

TAYLOR:  Well, it sure was nice of someone to help her.  It looks a bit messy, though.

BUDDY:  Don't worry, Jan is trying to work up the energy to go clean up the mess with a rake and a broom.  That freshly mown grass will make good mulch for the dog pen.

RUSTY:  Well, she'd better get a move on it if she wants to finish between rain storms.

BUDDY:  She hitched us dogs up for a walk and discovered it was already raining.  We might have to lock her out in order to get the job finished.

TAYLOR:  I'm not sure that would be wise, Buddy.  Not with the way you and Marcus like to eat.  Remember, any one of us could rip open a kibble bag, but she is the only one of us who can pop the top on a food can.


We are joining the Pet Parade blog hop with hosts Rascal and Rocco,  Bionic Basil, Barking From the Bayou and Owned by a Husky. 

Knee High To Jan

Heard around the house Wednesday night -

CYNDI:  Hey, does anyone know why Jan is making so much noise tonight?

RUSTY:  Yes, she's breathing.

CYNDI:  Would you ask her to tone it down for a bit? Wait, why is she breathing like that?

RUSTY:  Probably because if she doesn't, she'll die.  Oh, you mean, what caused it?  Grass.

CYNDI:  Is she allergic to grass?

MARCUS:  I hope not.  We sure have an abundance of it.  Look at how tall the grass is where Buddy and I are standing.

RUSTY:  I thought we didn't have any grass growing in the dog pen?

MARCUS:  We don't.  After the new water line and sidewalk were installed, the contractor seeded the dirt on both sides and new grass grew ... and grew ... and forgot to stop growing until mowing season.

CYNDI:  Wow, it sure did.  Is this what you see along the route you walk Jan?

MARCUS:  Only on this block.  Our grass was sown first.  The weather was the perfect temperature and we had an abundance of rain, so now we have an abundance of knee-high-to-Jan grass.

RUSTY:  Oh, good, somebody mowed it!

MARCUS:  Actually Jan couldn't stand looking at it any more and cut part of the grass on our property by hand yesterday.

CYNDI:  What a mess! 

MARCUS:  It took her a couple of hours to do most of one side of the sidewalk.  The grass was so thick and tall she couldn't use the long grass whip.  She had to use those oversized scissors.

RUSTY:  She must be tired!  And sore. 

MARCUS:  And grumpy.  I'd suggest staying as far away from her as possible for a few days.

RUSTY:  I guess that means you'll have to behave?

MARCUS:  I always behave!

CYNDI:  This week we are thankful a kind man volunteered to come by with a lawn mower, so Jan might not have to finish cutting the grass with scissors.


Join Pepi Smart Dog and friends for the Thankful Thursday blog hop.

And Ruckus the Eskie for Thoughtless Thursday with co-hosts Love is being owned by a husky and Barking from the Bayou.   

The Whudunit Butler

MICAH:  Hey, Merci, you sure are concentrating hard on something.

MERCI: I'm trying my paw at writing some fiction.

CYNDI:  I bet it's a romance.

MERCI:  No, it's a whudunit.

MICAH:  If it's a whudunit, I know who did it.

MERCI:  No, you don't.  I don't even know whudunit.  I haven't finished it yet.

MICAH:  It's the butler; it's always the butler in a whudunit.

MERCI:  But there's no butler in my story.

MICAH:  There has to be.  You need to hire one right away.

MERCI:  But I don't want a butler in my story.  It's about a poor family.  They can't afford a butler.

CYNDI:  I don't know.  Micah likes to read.  If he says you have to have a butler, you need to hire a butler so you can finish your story.

MERCI:  Okay, fine.  Micah, would you like to be the butler?

MICAH:  No way!  The butler always goes to jail.  I don't want to spend the rest of my life in solitary.

CYNDI:  I'm surprised at you, Merci.  That is so mean wanting to send your own fursibling to prison.

MICAH:  Come on, Cyndi, let's go look for a snack in the kitchen.

MERCI:  Guys, I told you there's no butler in my whudunit.  I was only trying to hire you because you told me I had to hire a butler and I can't afford to hire a real one.

PERCY:  Hey, what's all the yelling about?  You interrupted my nap.

MERCI:   I wasn't yelling.  I just said there is no butler in my whudunit and the next thing I knew, I was accused of trying to send Micah to jail for life.

PERCY:  No butler in your whudunit?  There has to be a butler in a whudunit.  You need to hire one right away.  By the way, what does the butler do in your whudunit?

MERCI:  *taps Delete key*  He disappears into thin air!

Chicken Yard Sale

MARCUS:  It's my turn to tell a story and I have a good one for you.

RUSTY:  Did you print copies?

MARCUS:  Copies?

RUSTY:  Yes, it's always good to pass out visuals so your audience can keep up with the topic.

PERCY:  Don't tease him, Rusty.  It's his first time at public storytelling.

MARCUS:  A pair of chickens walk up to the circulation desk at a public library and say, "Buk, buk, buk!"  The librarian hands over three books and the chickens leave

PERCY:  Wait a minute!  Chickens don't say, "Buk, buk, buk."  They would say, "Cluck, cluck, cluck."

MARCUS:  Well, these chickens say, "Buk, buk, buk.".

RUSTY:  Percy is correct.  Do these chickens have a speech defect?  Or are they foreign chickens?

PERCY:  Wait, I get it. These are literate chickens that say, "Buk, buk, buk."    

MARCUS:  May I continue?  After a while the two chickens return.  They seem a bit vexed, and say, "Buk, buk, BUUUUK!"   The librarian gives them another three books and the chickens leave.

RUSTY:  Wow, such fast readers.

PERCY:  Maybe they're running a chick nursery.

MARCUS:  In a short while, the chickens return.  They seem annoyed, and say to the librarian, "Buk, buk, buk, buk, BUUUUUUK!"  The librarian gives them the five requested books, but she is now suspicious and decides to follow them.

RUSTY:  It's about time she gets suspicious. Those chickens could be having a yard sale.

MARCUS:  *clears throat*  She follows them to a park out of town and hides behind a tree.

PERCY:  Okay, this is a bit much.  Do you expect us to believe a grown woman can follow two chickens for some distance without being spotted?  Are these chickens blind?

MARCUS:  *glares at Percy*  From there, she watches the two chickens throw the books at a frog in a pond.  As they do, the frog keeps repeating, "rrredit, rrredit, rrredit ..."

PERCY:  So did the librarian leap in the pond and rescue the library books?

MARCUS:  No, the librarian kissed the frog and it turned into a prince and married one of the chickens.

RUSTY:  Oh, I get it.  This was a fairy tale. 

MARCUS:  No, it was a joke and the punch line flew right over your heads.

PERCY:  It did?  Perhaps we'll catch it if you tell us again.  Hey, come back.  No need to get testy.