November 28 – As Time and Thanksgiving Goes By

       Last year was my first holiday season with Mr. & Mrs. Gator.  I was so busy experiencing the major events I missed the little things that help make days like Thanksgiving memorable.  I decided to keep a log chronicling what my humans do to make a holiday special so I could share it with you.
       4:23 AM – Ouch.  Mrs. Gator stepped out of bed and mashed my tail on her way to remove the turkey from the frige.  I whined and made a terrible fuss which woke up the Geezer.  It made Mrs. G feel guilty.  She got me a hot dog and even warmed it in the microwave.
       4:37 AM – As Mrs. G bent over to place the turkey in the oven, something scratched on the porch door.  She screamed and slammed the oven shut as I raced to investigate.  I growled and barked as menacingly as I’m capable.  When I looked out the glass, a fellow who wore a black mask, a brown fur coat, and sported a stripped black and brown tail, stared back at me.  He stood on his hind legs, but didn’t appear threatening.  The Geezer wobbled out to investigate.  Now that’s scary!!  He sleeps in the nude, is overweight, and is in his mid-60s.  His body would be a good prop to use in a remake of Halloween or Scream.  He quickly grasped the situation and a broom.  Old Geezer burst onto the porch with heroic intent.  His loud shout, while brandishing the straw stick, sent the raccoon scurrying from the porch…and illuminated the neighbor’s lights.  The Geezer retreated.
       4:45 AM – More screams, this time from the bathroom.  The Geezer walked in on our house guest, a lady friend of Mrs. G’s.  My analysis of the Geezer’s body”s horrifying nature must be right on, judging from the blood curdling nature of her utterance.  All wandered back to their rooms after apologies.
       6:44 AM – The Geezer rolled out of bed for his morning ritual.  That’s making a cup of coffee for Mrs. G, putting a scoop of Cool Whip in it, and serving it to his wife while she’s still in the sack.  Since he was awake and mobile, I went to the door and called out, “Geezer, I’ve got a case of bladder burst.”  He sauntered over, barefoot, dressed in his underwear, and asked, “Is it urgent?”  I nodded.  Geezer snapped on my leash, opened the door, and stepped onto the porch, while I pulled toward the stairs, grass, and relief.  When he got half-way down the steps, the stream of curse words floating from his lips made it plain…he wasn’t giving thanks for coon poop today. 
       7:20 AM – No bacon and eggs this morning!  Mrs. G never even made it to the stove.  Damn!  Cereal doesn’t do anything for my taste-buds.  The Geezer asked Mrs. G at what time dinner was scheduled.  Good News!  I found I wouldn’t have a long wait; the scraps should be finding their way off the table by 12:30.
        7:51 AM – The Geezer remarked how good the new oven’s seal was.  Mrs. G’s house-guest went to look at the new stove and said, “Oh shit!”  She asked Mrs G to come over.  Mrs G said, “Oh shit!  Geezer, I forgot to turn on the oven.”  The Geezer said, “Oh shit, that means we’ll be eating during the football games.  How long will it delay the meal?”  Mrs. G said, “Two Hours.”  I said, “Oh shit!”  Two hours longer to wait before the goodies start to fall.
       11:18 AM – Guests began to arrive.  A lady named Madeline stepped in the remaining coon poop.  Mrs. G made an emergency mop stop.
       11:22 AM – Madeline placed her “green bean casserole” on the kitchen bar.
       11:25 AM – Our 2nd guest, Susan, arrived and placed her “green bean casserole” on the kitchen bar.  Mrs. G looked concerned.
       11:30 AM – Patti, the 3rd lady guest arrived with…her “green bean casserole.”  Mrs. G is alarmed and hit the panic button.  “Geezer did you send out the right side-dish emails to all our guests?”  The Geezer answered, “Sure I did!”
       11:31 AM – Babs arrived with…her “green bean casserole.”  The Geezer checked his computer as suggested by Mrs. Gator.  His face turned very red.
       11:35 AM – The Geezer left for an emergency trip to the grocery.  Mrs G announced dinner will be delayed another hour.  Hunger pangs forced me to improvise.  Dirty socks just aren’t a substitute for turkey.
       12:42 PM – The Geezer returned carrying the feast prepared by the supermarket deli.  His arms were fully loaded with packages and when I gave him a welcoming nudge a pumpkin pie dislodged, did a triple somersault with a half twist, and landed on Susan’s white, dress-covered, lap.  The words offered weren’t in keeping with the day’s theme- being thankful.
       2:10 PM – Mrs. G announced the meal was ready.  The guests lined up at the serving table and piled on the chow, including samples from each of the 6 green bean casseroles.  
       2:12 PM – I never realized that I lived in a sexually bigoted family until today.  The women ate at the segregated dinner table and forced the men to eat in front of the TV.  I never guessed Mrs. G was capable of that. 
       2:42 PM – It was worth the wait.  Tidbits rained down on me like insults aimed at the opposition during a political rally.  Then, Mrs. Gator provided me with a large plate filled with assorted leftovers.  And to think, I never believed in heaven.  The humans watching me devour the goodies bet that I would explode, but of course I didn’t.  After the feast, I found a spot under the dining room table, curled up, and went to sleep.
       4:52 PM – I woke up during a battlefield nightmare so authentic, the corpses looked and smelled real.  When I opened my eyes the visions departed, but the smell lingered on.  It took a few moments to realize that the mass sampling of green bean casseroles had a side effect.  I went back to sleep to avoid nostril distress.
       6:55 PM – I finally became alert again.  During my nap all the guests had left except one couple, Patti and John.  They were very restless, both taking turns rushing to the toilet.  They called for Susan’s husband, but it was obvious he’d left.  Still they gurgled through the restroom door, “Ralph, Ralph, Ralph.”  Log note:  Ask Geezer why it’s not wise to mix red wine and vodka.  During their absence the Geezer and Mrs. G. had a whispered conversation about not inviting the head of the local Republican Party to the same event that the president of Professors for Obama attends.  I suddenly understood what had influenced my earlier sleep and its warfare nightmare. 
       8:00 PM – Mrs G. completed cleaning the kitchen, dining room, and living room.  The Geezer was so tired from watching her work he slumped into his recliner and snored, his noises being akin to those I’ve heard come from a pig sty.  He evidently was so tired Mrs. Gator had to take me for my goodnight walk. 
       After reviewing my log, I can see why humans treasure the holidays so much!  It provides so many unique ways to screw up.  I’m anxious to see what interesting things they’ll do to celebrate Christmas.  Anyway, that’s the way Time and Thanksgiving went by at our house.



5 thoughts on “November 28 – As Time and Thanksgiving Goes By

  1. My name is Payton and my mistress puts cheese on my hot dogs with buns, sticks them in the microwave and feeds them to me thusly.

    I get omelets for breakfast too!

  2. Well, since mom went to her sister-in-laws and since they have two dogs and since every house is my house they wouldn’t let me come so I spent most of Thanksgiving in my crate, boring!! But I made up for it the next day by going to downtown Minneapolis and working my tail and paws off. Loved your log.

  3. Hi there,

    Sorry it took me so long to get back to you!
    Thanks for your comment on my blog, it was really insightful. I definitely agree with you, the voice of the author in fiction is really important and often what is most attracts the reader to the work, or alternatively, I suppose, repels them.

    I took a couple of creative non-fiction classes last semester and so there was alot of discussion on how much of the author should be evident in genres like creative journalism, biography and memoir. I guess there are more ethical issues involved with this, especially when writing about other people who might remember something differently than you have portrayed it. But we are all victims of the subjective memory.

    Fiction doesn’t have these problems, it is alot freer to do what it likes! What kind of fiction do you write? I liked this thanksgiving blog; doing interesting things like marking events in time like that really interests me, it puts the reader into the picture as though they are there with you. I wrote a piece about a friend who lived overseas and each paragraph began with the place: Melbourne, Australia. Or Santorini, Greece….
    Oh and I don’t think age has anything to do with it! Some of the most famous authors of the 20th century, and even earlier, are known for their distinctive styles; Faulkner, Hemingway, Joyce ..without their unique voice or way or writing alot of the works authenticity and impact would be lost, don’t you think?

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