I am driving down State Road 70 in Bradenton, Florida, and my girl is with me. As we near my house we pass a big open field where cows are grazing; this field is right next to my neighborhood and we pass them almost daily.
“Look at those poor cows, standing there in the sun with no shade, I bet they are so hot! They should have an air conditioned barn so they can stay cool.”
“Uh huh, sure honey.”
“I am going to report that!”
“To who? The Bureau of Cow Abuse?”
“Somebody!”
“Don’t worry there are some shade trees, they’ll be fine.”
“I’m going to do something, you’ll see!”
“Oh I know, you could start your own group. How bout, Concerned Cow Crusaders of Bradenton?”
She gives me a dirty look and soon after we are in my living room watching one of those catastrophe movies on T V. There is a scene where fifty innocent people are brutally killed in a hail of bullets and all fall to the ground dead.
“Oh that’s so terrible!” she says distressed.
“I know those poor people… this is based on a true story!”
“No, no, not the people… look in the back ground, there, see, behind the bodies, the little dog, he’s limping.”
“So you aren’t really concerned about the slaughter of fifty innocent people, but the limping dog, that’s upsetting?”
“Sure, and I bet he is hungry too.”
A week later we go to a movie, and during one scene hungry wolves surround this wounded man. They are sure to eat him but just as they lunge he shoots one and the rest run off! My girl is so upset about the injured wolf that she runs up the aisle and waits in the lobby until the movie is almost over then returns.
“Is that part over now? I just couldn’t watch.”
“You know they don’t really kill the wolf, right?”
“Yes, but it is still upsetting!”
“So does that mean I can finish your popcorn? Ouch! What was that for?”
A few days later she asks me the following question.
“You think we can take the dog to the grocery store?”
“Why?”
“Because he gets lonely here all by himself.”
“How do you know? Maybe he’s a loner and loves solitude, Ouch, that hurts.”
So far I’ve been able to convince her to leave the dog home, but I fear the day is coming when the dog will replace me. I’m not sure what to do about this, apart from reminding her that I don’t urinate in public…usually, and I’m conversationally more interesting than the dog.
“What do you mean not really! And I talk too much? Well he just barks, and besides he has bad breath!”
I think I’m winning the argument, but I can’t be sure. Lately Fluffy has been cuddling up to her more than usual, I think he knows it’s a competition. I just hope he doesn’t start a fake limp because then it’s all over for me…..
He’s not that smart is he?
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