"Oh. That was on our group Facebook. Neighbor Bev wanted me to tell Neighbor Crazy Rotweiler's Mom that her kitten had cats."
"Her kitten had cats. Bev wanted me to put them on my Buy/Sell/Trade, but I said no. But I'd let our people out here know."
"HER KITTEN HAD CATS?"
"Oh. No. I meant her cat had kittens."
"Do WE need one?"
Later in the day, Farmer H was sitting at the kitchen table. He never does this. Only if I'm in there captively washing dishes. In the sink, of course. Having no dishwasher. He'll sit there like he's keeping me company. Which I don't want. It's bad enough to stand there doing dishes every day for the past 20 years. That's 7300 sinks of dishes, people! Assuming I only washed them once a day. I sure don't need or want company for that tedious task. Let me use it for meditation. Have my thoughts to myself.
Farmer H wasn't really keeping me company. In his mind. He was writing up his expense account for another neighbor, neither Bev nor CRM. Another one he'd just wired up a hot tub for.
"Well, I made a $230 profit for one whole day's work." Even though he worked on it off and on for three days.
"Oh, look! There's a squirrel on the rail, looking in at you."
"Yeah. They're fun to watch, but I don't want them to get in the house."
"They eat the dog food. There's always one on the rail when I open the door."
"Watch this." Farmer H tapped on the window. No reaction from the squirrel. Just the steady gaze.
Farmer H got up and stood at the kitchen door. He rattled the doorknob. The squirrel sat up straighter, more alert. Farmer H opened the door quickly. The squirrel turned, paused to run along the rail toward the fake fish pond corner. Farmer H closed the door, then flung it wide open. The squirrel looked at him, then took off scampering along the rail.
BOW WOW WOW WOW WOW!!!
My watchdog. Farmer H.