I have previously remarked that your legs are only 4 inches long. Sadly for you, it snowed 6 inches this past week. I say this only because you are still required to go outside in order to do your *ahem* “business”.
Now, as you know, I am certainly no statistician, and am not prone to conducting scientific polls. Informally, however, I could not find one single male acquaintance willing to strip down and run around in snow slightly higher than their…um…waist. One or two cringed visibly when asked if they would consider…uh…relieving themselves in said snow. When I threw in a scenario (a la A Christmas Story) involving snow, the possibility of “lifting one’s leg” on a metal fence post, and the resulting…shall we say “adherence”…of a certain appendage to said post, well, some actually passed out.
Spring is just around the corner, I’m sure.
You are a goob.
Since the cold weather set in, you have been limping around like an old man. We know from experience your Glucosamine helps. For days I have been trying to get you to take it. I have put it on top of your food, in your food, and under your food. I have sweet-talked and baby-talked and cajoled in ten different ways. I have crawled on the floor and begged you to take it. When these measures caused you to scurry under the bed and hide, I pursued you even still for your own good. I did everything but coat the pill in butter and fry it in bacon fat.
Finally, I gave up. I was determined the pill would lay at the bottom of your food dish, your nemesis until the end of days. Then the cat started licking it. And at age 12 1/2, became agile as a kitten. I decided to start giving him the remainder of the pills in the bottle, in my glory that they would not be wasted. And wouldn’t you know it? The minute the cat showed interest in it, it suddenly became your heart’s desire. You are now begging me for more.
You are a goob.
So there I was sitting around lamenting about the stuff I got for Christmas when I really should have been asking for more noble things, like peace on earth, good will to men, etc., etc., etc.
Jay was awfully quiet, but I presumed getting tired of my whining because he got up and went to the kitchen without a word. The next thing I knew, he had the blender out of the cupboard and something from the freezer. Jimmy Buffet songs were running through my head as I anticipated that frozen little concoction that helps me hang on. With little ado and much noise, Jay presented me with (ugh) a bowl of green goo.
Trying to hide my disappointment, I asked him what it was. He replied, “Just what you asked for. Whirled peas.” I looked at him like he was from the moon, and began to express my thoughts and feelings. So he took the bowl and dumped the contents onto the ground. “Peas on Earth, like you wanted.”
And that my friend, is the story of how Jay got arrested by the pun police and you got a whole belly full of deliciousness that looked like it came out of the wrong end of a cat but tasted much better.
Happy New Year!