First cat out of the bag... let's establish that I am feeling MUCH better. I think I have beaten my affliction. I feel almost normal now, at 9:23 on Friday night. Missed another day of scratcher-buying, but I can eat and drink, and took a shower, and might even wash dishes later in the night! I wrote Genius's letter, paid three bills, and sent them for mailing with Farmer H. Farmer H is another story. One that will be told on my not-so-secret blog on Sunday.
Farmer H plopped himself in his recliner around 4:45 after a two-hour nap. I had just sat down on the short couch, not wanting to disturb him in the bedroom by taking a shower. I started a conversation, which took a turn when Farmer H opened his mouth. We were watching The Incredible Dr. Pol, when Farmer H said:
"Neighbor's dog has a collar."
Using context clues, I knew that he meant a cone-of-shame, the plastic thingies that keep dogs from licking or chewing out stitches.
"Huh. What happened to it?"
"It was all over Facebook. People saying how expensive vets are these days..."
Farmer H was scrolling on his phone. I assumed he was going to read me what she said about her dog, and what people have been paying their veterinarians. I waited. And waited. Farmer H was tap-tapping with his thumbs.
"AND...?"
"What do you mean, AND?"
"I'm waiting to hear about the dog."
"Oh. I was answering a couple texts from people wanting things. I was going to look up the dog thing..."
So I still waited, putting off my shower. And then Farmer H spouted out:
"So-and-So's sister So-sy apparently wrecked her car. She's asking her how that mailbox is doing."
"WHAT? What are you talking about?"
"So-and-So. Genius's friend from high school. Her sister is a city police officer. Wrecked her car."
"How am I supposed to know that's who you're talking about? Genius has been out of high school for 10 years!"
"Well, she was a good friend."
"With a common name."
But then Farmer H went even farther off the deep end.
"She had a good round. A 70 and an 80 and an 83. The 70 is really good."
"WHAT? I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Friend's sister! She plays golf. I can't believe you don't know that."
"Well, if you had mentioned Friend, or even golf, I might have picked up on it. I don't know how I'm supposed to understand. I'm not on Facebook. How would I even know that?"
"It always pops up on my phone."
Sweet Gummi Mary! I never did find out about the dog...
2 comments:
How do you not tear out your hair every single day?
He's like a newspaper printed with only headlines and no story.
I want to know about the dog too.
River,
That's a perfect description of him! I asked about the dog this morning, and he said it had an infection on its butt!
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