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Last night as I was just about to drift off to sleep, Hershey came over to me and put his hand on my arm, as he often does at night to show his affection and get a pet or two before bedtime. I gave him a pet or two and said, “Good night, Hershey.”
Instead of going to his bed and lying down, he was joined by Roxy.
Then he said, “Fred, (he calls me Fred because he knows I’m not his dad and Roxy says that I walk funny.) you’ve got to sell those dogs, now!”
I said, “Hershey, I thought you liked the puppies!” He said, “Ya, ya, ya, we do, but you are spending a lot of time with them. Roxy and I think the time has come for you to get them out of here.”
I said, “Hershey, I am surprised, shocked....”
Before I could finish, Hershey interrupted, “Fred, it’s time for you to put some ads out there and unload those dogs. Roxy says that they are causing some discomfort when they suck. She said it is a sharp needle like pain and she doesn’t like it. She also said that she feels a scratching from what she thinks are their hands when she feeds them.”
I told Hershey that I cut their finger nails, but sometimes they cried and I felt bad. Also, I am old and cannot see very well and am afraid of cutting off a toe.
Hershey was entirely unsympathetic. He said, “Get Amy to cut them! She is a lot younger.”
I tried to tell him that Amy was leaving for So Cal in the morning because she just finished taking the Oregon bar and was packing. He did not care.
Roxy then, for the first time, spoke. “Fred, I love those puppies as if they were my own.”
I interrupted, “Roxy, they are yours!”
She said, “whatever....”
“They have to go. Find some good homes. Robert and Traci are taking Traci and Marc and Jeannette are taking Martin and you are keeping Lulu for future breeding, so that just leaves seven to unload, right Fred!!”
“Ya, I guess, Rox, but...”
“No buts, Fred, you know Jan will have a cow if you try to keep eight more dogs here!!”
“Roxy, I have a great idea for the ultimate in recycling. You know the Jimmy Dean sausages? Well the Asians like unusual delicacies. I was thinking of packaging the output of the puppies and marketing it to Southeast Asia. We probably would have to employ some Madison Avenue agency to create the demand, but think of the potential!!”
Roxy was not impressed. She said, in effect, that’s the dumbest idea I have ever heard of. She is much to polite to come right out and say that, but I knew from her tone of voice that that is what she was really saying. She went on to say,”You would probably want to call them, ‘Labrasausages’”.
I, somewhat sheepishly, admitted that I had thought of that.
Just then, both Hershey and Roxy both said, “That’s it Fred. No more gruelaritas before bedtime. Tomorrow, you get on the thing you sit in front of and won’t let us play with and find some adoptive families for those pups, or else.”
Naturally, I refused. But they made me sit in front of the computer and type. They think I am putting an ad for the puppies but since they can’t read very well, I am issuing a, “Help, I am being held prisoner in my own house alert. HELP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
Instead of going to his bed and lying down, he was joined by Roxy.
Then he said, “Fred, (he calls me Fred because he knows I’m not his dad and Roxy says that I walk funny.) you’ve got to sell those dogs, now!”
I said, “Hershey, I thought you liked the puppies!” He said, “Ya, ya, ya, we do, but you are spending a lot of time with them. Roxy and I think the time has come for you to get them out of here.”
I said, “Hershey, I am surprised, shocked....”
Before I could finish, Hershey interrupted, “Fred, it’s time for you to put some ads out there and unload those dogs. Roxy says that they are causing some discomfort when they suck. She said it is a sharp needle like pain and she doesn’t like it. She also said that she feels a scratching from what she thinks are their hands when she feeds them.”
I told Hershey that I cut their finger nails, but sometimes they cried and I felt bad. Also, I am old and cannot see very well and am afraid of cutting off a toe.
Hershey was entirely unsympathetic. He said, “Get Amy to cut them! She is a lot younger.”
I tried to tell him that Amy was leaving for So Cal in the morning because she just finished taking the Oregon bar and was packing. He did not care.
Roxy then, for the first time, spoke. “Fred, I love those puppies as if they were my own.”
I interrupted, “Roxy, they are yours!”
She said, “whatever....”
“They have to go. Find some good homes. Robert and Traci are taking Traci and Marc and Jeannette are taking Martin and you are keeping Lulu for future breeding, so that just leaves seven to unload, right Fred!!”
“Ya, I guess, Rox, but...”
“No buts, Fred, you know Jan will have a cow if you try to keep eight more dogs here!!”
“Roxy, I have a great idea for the ultimate in recycling. You know the Jimmy Dean sausages? Well the Asians like unusual delicacies. I was thinking of packaging the output of the puppies and marketing it to Southeast Asia. We probably would have to employ some Madison Avenue agency to create the demand, but think of the potential!!”
Roxy was not impressed. She said, in effect, that’s the dumbest idea I have ever heard of. She is much to polite to come right out and say that, but I knew from her tone of voice that that is what she was really saying. She went on to say,”You would probably want to call them, ‘Labrasausages’”.
I, somewhat sheepishly, admitted that I had thought of that.
Just then, both Hershey and Roxy both said, “That’s it Fred. No more gruelaritas before bedtime. Tomorrow, you get on the thing you sit in front of and won’t let us play with and find some adoptive families for those pups, or else.”
Naturally, I refused. But they made me sit in front of the computer and type. They think I am putting an ad for the puppies but since they can’t read very well, I am issuing a, “Help, I am being held prisoner in my own house alert. HELP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
