We have two alleys. One, the alley to our side of the street, runs behind the house. Another one is beside our house, cuz the houses in front of it, really big houses, are Julian Boulevard houses. Ya, it's "boulevard," not plain old street. Julian Boulevard gets two whole roads going in different directions, with a park between them. Most the people are real nice, but some are worse snobs than Soook. She lives, ... oh, excuse me, resides, on Julian Boulevard.
I haven't seen "Doggie" all week. I'll bet she pooped on a Julian Boulevard neighbor's grass and got herself arrested by the animal police. If dogs are gonna poop in Julian Boulevard yards, they should take a lesson from cats--cover their pies. And you'd think they'd learn the guys in that white truck aren't trying to catch them so they can show off in a fancy dog show.
Mom wouldn't call the police on a dog with bad manners. But she mostly wears jeans. The big house people are usually in suits. What if someone stepped it a pie and got their shoes dirty, or slipped on it and got... ha, ha, they wouldn't look too spiffy, and for sure, they'd smell worse.
Even before I noticed the dog gone, I decided not to run away. I was headed for Lubbock, Texas, where there's a hot little number named L'il Bit. But I heard cuz Texas is so dry right now, the rattlers have gobbled up mice like crazy, and what they don't get, the coyotes do. Besides, I might die of thirst before I got hungry--the deer and antelope lap up all the water they can find. On top of that, some of the wild grass is so dry and stiff, it can cut you. To make it worse, some plants grab your fur. They have stickers that hang on to the fur between your toes, and it hurts like crazy. I know, cuz I got into them once in our alley.
Another reason to stay: Snook, Mom's "precious niece kitty," was ready to horn in and take over my house. I was out checking to see if that dog was really gone when Aunt Pen, wanting to clean house, dropped Snook off here for the afternoon. I saw Auntie's car and raced into the house. Too late. Snook had already found the good-buy blog I was writing. She put a PS on it toward the bottom of the page. I guess she figured I wouldn't see it after she moved the page back to where I had it. She wrote:
"PS.": Undoubtedly KittyCat said he was "red faced" last week because he couldn't think of, much less spell embarrassed. Also you can guess his book of "pomes" requires more editing than the correction of one misspelled word." And she went on and on.
One of these days I'll get a runny nose at just the right time, and I'll blow snot all over her. Ha, ha, instead of being Snobby Snook, she'll be Snotty Snook. Then who will be red faced? Oh, guess that's embarrassed.
(c) 2012, Bernice W. Simpson