Sunday, November 10, 2013

The Sweet Smell Of The Mess

WooHoo! Cold weather is moving into Hillmomba Monday night. We've already had a couple of mornings down to 24 degrees. The frost is beautiful on the weeds during sunrise. There is supposed to be a 30 percent chance of precipitation. Let's just say that I am NOT stocking up on bread and milk. Too early in the season for that. However, my mom mentioned that she was making a run to Aldi's this afternoon, before the weather gets bad. I can't speak for her shopping list.

I commanded Farmer H to procure cedar chips for all the dogs' houses. He frowns on this because, being dogs, they turn around and dig at the bedding, and the chips fall where they may. Which is mostly upon the porch, outside of all the dogs' houses. I don't know why he cares. Two houses are on the BARn end of the porch, outside our bedroom window. We don't walk around there. That cedar can't be bothering anyone. Just scoop it back into the houses.

The only one that should matter is Juno's house, just outside the kitchen door. It's a prime piece of real estate, in that little "L", its back to the wind, under roof, hole facing the kitchen door to monitor human traffic and snarf up tossed-out leftovers. Unfortunately, Ann and Tank seem to be appraisers well-schooled in doghouse property values. They try to take over, to root out Juno. They were a couple before she arrived. She's the outsider, the youngest, the easiest to boss. While Juno is top dog in my book, she's the underdog in their pecking order. Sometimes she takes possession of her own home, and refuses to come out. We can even hear her growling in the kitchen, when she thinks the other canines are on the prowl for a home invasion.

So I ordered Farmer H, for the second time this month, to get the cedar chips. He tends to prefer hay, which is not good for the doggies, as I've heard they can get ringworm from straw and hay. I don't know if it's true. But it's what I've heard. So it's a good enough argument for Farmer H. Never mind that Tank the beagle used to dig his way into the middle of the Halloween hay bale shrine built by Farmer H. I prefer to think it's only because Tank didn't have cedar chips in which to rest his weary bones.

"Make sure you get some cedar chips for the doghouses. It's going to get cold Monday night. And cedar chips will make Juno smell so sweet when I embrace her during our lovefest every evening. She already smells good, her fur so shiny, with the aroma of sunlight from sleeping in the front yard all day. It's so sleek. Like she eats a couple of dozen eggs a day." Heh, heh.

"That's because she's been eating my eggs!"

Did you know that sometimes, Farmer H has a vein on his forehead that stands out?

3 comments:

knancy said...

What is really fun, once you see it (the mad vein) you can practice on producing it over and over again! I like to watch them pulse! A few, I wished would quit pulsing. Not that I would ever murder anyone, you know. BTW, where the hell is my hand basket?

Sioux said...

And probably his blood pressure soars up at the same moment the vein pops up...

Ah, fun times...

Hillbilly Mom said...

knancy,
It's like a little person. Like that second head people sprout on that car commercial. I'm waiting for it to start talking like the shirt stain on the Tide Pen commercial.

Your handbasket has been delayed. The factory is not quite up and running just yet. I am forwarding a full refund, plus coupons for gas station chicken and a 44 oz. Diet Coke. No need for anybody to get THE VEIN in an uproar.

*****
Sioux,
Thank the Gummi Mary, he's medicated.