The Lengths Farmer H Will Go To For An Alibi

Let the record show that Farmer H has left the Mansion. Don't get your hopes up. He'll be back shortly. He's gone to Oklahoma, not with a banjo on his knee, but with a vice in his trunk. He's taking a part to install in the lab where The Pony has been doing his chemical engineering research. Uh huh. He has been requested by the professor to put a vice in her oven. NOT A BUN! A vice. Used for stretching polymers, not for pinching them.

The professor is from a foreign country. One where I suppose they don't suffer fools gladly. During their meeting, she informed Farmer H that she was pleased with the plan he had for her grant money. And furthermore, she finds it nearly impossible to get good help these days, what with the younger generation pretty much not knowing their butt from a hole in the ground. Not in those exact words. I suppose they have other terms for that in her country. Further furthermore, when former safety officer Farmer H pointed out all the lab violations at the university, such as inadequate extension cords, and electrical outlets too near the water source, the professor AGREED with him that safety does not seem to be a priority. Anyhoo... the project is a success, and Farmer H and a twenty-something female professor have bonded over a laboratory oven.

While Farmer H is away, Mrs. Hillbilly Mom answers to no one. She is morally, ethically, spiritually, physically, positively, absolutely, undeniably and reliably, not only merely ruling, but really most sincerely ruling the Mansion!

That means I pour out dry dogfood on the back porch in the morning, and make sure Marley has water (he has an automatic feeder in his pen). After that, the day is my own!

I'm pretty sure Farmer H is still trying to kill me. Even though it is currently from afar.

Normally, when he gets up and leaves the Mansion in the inhuman hours before 9:30 a.m., Farmer H locks the kitchen door. To make sure I'm safe, you know, from any marauders who would intrude while I slumber. Monday morning, Farmer H was already near the border of Missouri/Oklahoma when I left for town. I was comforted to see that he had locked the kitchen door on his way out.

The day went smoothly, almost like a vacation, no time constraints on me. I didn't go upstairs to make my supper until 7:45. I'm a night owl, you know. As I was getting a tray ready to take back down to my lair, I heard my Sweet, Sweet Juno barking her fool head off. What in the Not-Heaven with that dog? I went to the front door to take a look out at the driveway, and discovered that it was UNLOCKED!

I had driven to town, leaving the front door nigh on wide open to criminals! I'd been slumbering and showering before that, with easy access for mayhem. All afternoon, I'd been jamming to tunes in my lair, happily unaware that ne'er-do-wells could be ransacking the floor above me.

I suppose Farmer H had forgotten to lock that door the night before, after he returned from helping a neighbor with her electric. I don't have the details on that yet. She sent him a message that when she turns on her vacuum cleaner, her lights dim.

Anyhoo... I'm pretty sure Farmer H is still trying to kill me. Now with an alibi of being a whole state away when it happens.