Take that, Hilda!
—“Any chance you guys removed that big burr from my dog’s ear?”
I asked that to pretty *****, the new hire at my doggy-daycare kennel.
She was by herself; her guardian bosses weren’t around.
“No, but I can do it!” she bubbled.
“I’ll have to get Killian back out of my car,” I said. “I can do it at home. I just haven’t got to it yet.”
“I can do it!” she exclaimed.
“Hooray!” I thought to myself. “Pretty ***** has decided I’m safe.”
A few weeks ago I gave her “the speech.” She anxiously looked at her boss for protection. She was afraid I’d make a pass.
“You’re gonna get married some day,” I told her. “Whatever ya do, marry somebody who can make ya laugh.”
“And don’t forget that,” her boss told her. That boss thinks I’m funny.
I got Killian back out of my car, and handed him to *****. “This way big boy!”
“Be warned,” I said. “You’ll need to muzzle him.”
“You can come inside,” ***** said to me.
“Are you sure?” I asked.
Concern about COVID-19. I was wearing a mask, but ***** wasn’t.
***** held the door open. “I’m by myself. No one else is in here.”
(That kennel is closed, but they daycare my dog for nothing.)
She disappeared into an anteroom with Killian, then quickly reappeared — burr removed from my dog.
“Well HOORAY-HOORAY!” ***** decided I’m not some drooling geezer, a loathsome Lothario.
I’m safe, but what about the Trump wannabees?
And I bet she remembers my speech. Another pretty girl left the kennel a while ago, and took my speech with her.
My wife always told me the reason we lasted 44&1/2 years was because I could make her laugh.
• “Hilda” was my neighbor Sunday-School Superintendent Hilda Q. Walton, who convinced me all males, including me at age-5, were SCUM. My hyper-religious parents heartily agreed. “NO PRETTY GIRL WILL TALK TO YOU!”
• “Killian,” my current dog, is a “rescue Irish-setter.” He’s eleven, and is my seventh Irish-Setter, an extremely lively dog. A “rescue Irish setter” is usually an Irish Setter rescued from a bad home; e.g. abusive or a puppy-mill. Or perhaps its owner died. (Killian was a divorce victim.) By getting a rescue-dog I avoid puppydom, but the dog is often messed up. —Killian was fine. He’s my fifth rescue.
• My wife died of cancer April 17th, 2012. I still miss her. BEST friend I ever had, and after my childhood I needed one. She actually liked me.
I asked that to pretty *****, the new hire at my doggy-daycare kennel.
She was by herself; her guardian bosses weren’t around.
“No, but I can do it!” she bubbled.
“I’ll have to get Killian back out of my car,” I said. “I can do it at home. I just haven’t got to it yet.”
“I can do it!” she exclaimed.
“Hooray!” I thought to myself. “Pretty ***** has decided I’m safe.”
A few weeks ago I gave her “the speech.” She anxiously looked at her boss for protection. She was afraid I’d make a pass.
“You’re gonna get married some day,” I told her. “Whatever ya do, marry somebody who can make ya laugh.”
“And don’t forget that,” her boss told her. That boss thinks I’m funny.
I got Killian back out of my car, and handed him to *****. “This way big boy!”
“Be warned,” I said. “You’ll need to muzzle him.”
“You can come inside,” ***** said to me.
“Are you sure?” I asked.
Concern about COVID-19. I was wearing a mask, but ***** wasn’t.
***** held the door open. “I’m by myself. No one else is in here.”
(That kennel is closed, but they daycare my dog for nothing.)
She disappeared into an anteroom with Killian, then quickly reappeared — burr removed from my dog.
“Well HOORAY-HOORAY!” ***** decided I’m not some drooling geezer, a loathsome Lothario.
I’m safe, but what about the Trump wannabees?
And I bet she remembers my speech. Another pretty girl left the kennel a while ago, and took my speech with her.
My wife always told me the reason we lasted 44&1/2 years was because I could make her laugh.
• “Hilda” was my neighbor Sunday-School Superintendent Hilda Q. Walton, who convinced me all males, including me at age-5, were SCUM. My hyper-religious parents heartily agreed. “NO PRETTY GIRL WILL TALK TO YOU!”
• “Killian,” my current dog, is a “rescue Irish-setter.” He’s eleven, and is my seventh Irish-Setter, an extremely lively dog. A “rescue Irish setter” is usually an Irish Setter rescued from a bad home; e.g. abusive or a puppy-mill. Or perhaps its owner died. (Killian was a divorce victim.) By getting a rescue-dog I avoid puppydom, but the dog is often messed up. —Killian was fine. He’s my fifth rescue.
• My wife died of cancer April 17th, 2012. I still miss her. BEST friend I ever had, and after my childhood I needed one. She actually liked me.
posted by BobbaLew at 7:56 PM
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