Sunday, March 4, 2018

The Disappearance Of Slim Jim Has Been Solved!

A couple days ago, I mentioned how I'd lost Slim Jim. How he seemingly disappeared into thin air. Well. Slim Jim once was lost, but now he's found. I was blind, but then I saw.

Farmer H and I went to the casino yesterday after he closed his Storage Unit Store. Since he didn't want to drive all the way back to the Mansion, and pick me up, and take A-Cad as usual...I drove to town to save a couple steps, in my everyday auto, T-Hoe.

Farmer H was having trouble getting rid of people! It was a nice day, and the first weekend of the month, and the buyers were out. One lady ducked under the metal door of Farmer H's storage unit as he was in the act of closing it! He made a quick sale of a lamp that she just HAD to have, and then came outside the gate to meet me in the parking lot. We left his truck there, to pick up later. All the people who rent storage units there have a code for a keypad to open the gate whenever they want inside.

I had moved from the driver's seat to the passenger seat while waiting. Such a bright sunny day, temps in the low fifties. I think I waited about 20 minutes for him, past our agreed departure time of 11:00 a.m. Farmer H could have easily sold more, but he said he wanted to straighten up some things, and bring different merchandise. So he'd do that Sunday morning, before the crowd arrived. Although he DID say that people loved digging through the boxes of unorganized stuff he had sitting there. Of course they did! They probably thought they were exploring undiscovered territory! That they might find a treasure like a big diamond ring in there!

Anyhoo...Farmer H swove us to the casino, a tale for another place and time. We left there at 3:30. As I was grabbing the handle to pull myself up on T-Hoe's running board to get into the seat, something caught my eye.

It was down beside the console, next to the metal frame that the passenger seat slides on. I always have that seat pushed all the way back. I'm sure I saw that white piece while searching for Slim Jim. I must have mistaken it for the paper end of a straw wrapper. Surely you don't think I'd make the effort to pick up trash like that while searching for Slim Jim! that I was standing in a sunny casino parking lot, and not in an ill-lit garage, something about that straw wrapper scrap looked different. I leaned over. Poked around. Or tried to. It was really just the visible part that I could feel. But it wasn't soft like paper. It was plastic-y. I rooted and poked some more. Tried to grab it. No luck. Poked a couple more times. Felt all around. Crawled halfway across the seat...and in the better light, I saw the brown end of Slim Jim!

Slim Jim was wedged down into a kind of metal slot or trough, a groove in that hardware that's bolted to the frame, and in turn bolts down the seat. I seriously could not feel Slim Jim's body in that groove. It took a lot of wiggling of that wrapper between my fingernails to get Slim Jim out. Several times, I thought he might slip farther under the seat, to the possible point of no return.

I rescued him, though! You might think that shameless (and questionably unhygienic) Mrs. HM devoured him on the spot. Sweet Gummi Mary! That did NOT happen. I was still full from a delicious burger at the casino. I put Slim Jim in the console tray with two uneaten, fully-wrapped Slim Jims (for emergency purposes) that I always have on hand.

Today, when I returned home from my daily 44 oz Diet Coke run, I planned to divide Slim Jim between my Sweet, Sweet Juno, and (formerly known as Puppy) Jack. I ripped the wrapper, and bit Slim Jim in half. Jack immediately ran under the lattice that encloses the under-porch area. Juno was snuffling at me from the side porch. I had a bit of a beef with her, since before I left, I'd given both dogs some Hawaiian Rolls, and she'd run out of her house and taken one of Jack's while he was chewing.

I called and called to Jack. He was trapped under there, the only way out to come out the opening by the fake fish pond, and run all the way around the garage and come in under the carport where Farmer H parks the Trailblazer and Gator, and I park the trash dumpster. I held off giving Juno her portion, because I knew she'd steal Jack's if hers was already devoured. In fact, the minute I saw Jack running toward me, I gave Juno a tiny bit of cat kibble, and while she was distracted, slipped Jack BOTH halves of Slim Jim.

A fitting burial, I say.


Kathy's Klothesline said...

My Toni Louise can be a bully around food. She guards the dog food if the cat is around and she will run Cujo and Wall-E off until she has had her fill. They all eat from the same bowl, four bowls would take up too much valuable space. She has locked horns with Eddie a couple of times. He ignores her and eats anyway. Glad you found the slim jim .....

Hillbilly Mom said...

Yes, we can call off the search for Slim Jim. Toni Louise is to Juno as HeWho is to Farmer H. They could be in a question on the ACT!

Sioux Roslawski said...

Are you sure Juno is clueless about the slight?

River said...

It might be worth keeping a steel knitting needle in T-hoe, so you can spear those runaway slim jims and lift them out of their hole-in-the-wall hideaways.

Hillbilly Mom said...

Juno probably knows, after sniffing Jack's breath and realizing that her own breath does not have the aroma of Slim Jim. She loves me, though, and probably doesn't want to take a chance on acting petulant.

Or one of those metal shish kebab thingies with a ring on the end.