July 10 – What’s a stupid, naive dog to do…?

     One of my dog buddies from our street asked, “How can you put up with that old guy, Sandy?” 
     I looked at Barbie the neighborhood cocker spaniel and head gossip.  I said, “The Geezer?  He’s a nice guy.  Why would you ask something like that?”  My human and Barbie’s were discussing mosquitoes and other irrelevant human subjects while we patiently waited for them to resume our walks. 
     Barbie got as close to me as she could and whispered in Doganese, “I’ve heard he’s a cannibal!”
     I yelped, “What!!  Where did you hear that?”
     The Geezer Gator bent over to see if I was okay.  “You alright girl?” he asked.  He doesn’t understand a word of Doganese, though I’ve diligently instructed him in its intricacies.  Of course, at times that’s an advantage.  This was one of them.  I licked a paw and said, “Just a sand-spur, Geezer.”  He accepted my excuse and resumed his chat with Barbie’s lady.
     I motioned to Barbie and we moved away as far as our leashes would allow.  The Geezer is like practically all humans, their comprehension of languages other than those spoken by their species, is zero.  Still, the old boy is perceptive and he might have figured out what we were talking about.  
     I switched back to Doganese as I asked Barbie, “What are you talking about?” 
     “You know what I’m talking about.  You live in that house.”  Barbie looked at the Geezer with disdain.
     I said, “No, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”  Just like most of her breed Barbie was running her mouth, half-cocked.
     “Oh.  Oh.  I ask you, were his grandchildren here last week?  His ‘grands’ as he calls them?  Huh?   Huh?”  Barbie was practically panting.
      “Yes,” I said. 
      “And, and, are they here now?  Huh?  Huh?”
      “And, when and where was the last place you saw them?  Huh?  Huh?”  Barbie couldn’t contain her excitement, drooling at what she supposed was juicy gossip.
      I thought for a few seconds, replaying the kids visit.  “Last Saturday, in the kitchen, before they left to go home,” I answered.
      “I knew it!  I knew it!  I knew it!”  Barbie yammered.  “You just thought they went home!  He actually ate them!”
      “Bull shit!  How do you get from his ‘grands’ being in the kitchen to the Geezer eating them as the main course?”  I shook my head in disbelief.
       Barbie narrowed her eyes.  “The Geezer confessed to Mrs. Zoomer.  Manny, her chihuahua, told Scoop, the labrador retriever, who told Baseer, the afghan hound, who told Heinz, the… well, I’m not sure what he is, who told me in strictest confidence.  I had to trade something to get that information.”
      “What?” I asked.
      “Sex,” Barbie whispered.
      It was beginning to make sense.  Barbie isn’t the swiftest fish in the canal.  “What did Heinz tell you?”
      “Heinz said, that Baseer said, that…”
      I interrupted, “Skip that, just get to the point.”
      Barbie lowered her voice and glanced nervously at the Geezer Gator as she spoke.  “The Geezer told Mrs. Zoomer that he really enjoyed eating his Grands with sausage and milk gravy!”
      I started laughing so hard I could hardly stand on all four’s.  I said, “Barbie, you moron, Grands are a type of biscuit made by Pillsbury.  Honey, you’ve been had!  Or, let me rephrase–you’ve been screwed!”  For she had.  About that time, the Geezer and Barbie’s human, who the Geezer calls “The Fantastic Fanny,” broke up their conversation and we went our separate ways.
      After we were out of hearing range, the Geezer asked, “What was that all about?  You two were giving somebody a hard time.  Who was the victim?”
     “You.  Let me explain.”  I retold the story and we both got a good chuckle.  I said to the Geezer, “Poor Barbie.  Her ethics are non-existent.  She’s either stupid or naive.  It’s a good thing she owns a nice human.  If she had to earn a living I don’t think there’s anything she could do.”
      The Geezer rubbed his chin a few times then said, “Maybe there’s a couple positions she could hold.”
      “What?” I asked.  I couldn’t think of a thing.
      “A member of the US House of Representatives or a US Senator.”
      “I guess she might qualify for that.”  I thought of the leadership in Washington.  “Yes, she does.  Anything else?”
      “If she couldn’t handle one of those jobs, I can only think of one more– based on the last three who held the job, how about President?”
      I laughed and nodded my agreement.
      The Geezer sighed and added,  “There’s only one problem, Sandy.”
      “What’s that?” I asked.
      “After observing Clinton, Bush, and Obama, she’s probably over qualified.



7 thoughts on “July 10 – What’s a stupid, naive dog to do…?

  1. hello sandy its dennis the vizsla dog hay i wood definitly vote for yore frend for congress or for the presidensee eksept ummmm california duznt allow dogs to vote it is owtraydjus diskriminayshun i tel yoo!!!! oh wel i am yoozd to it by now and at leest i can onnestly say that nuthing that happins in the mithical land of washingtun is my fawlt ha ha ok bye

  2. Well, there is the Republican Party.
    The Democratic Party.
    The Independent Party.
    What would you call your party?
    I will look for it!

    • Hi Doraz,
      You asked about what party I favor. That’s easy– None. Honestly, I see how polarizing the political process has become and it makes me ill. Center, center right if you had to categorize my beliefs. I’ve traveled to right at 100 different countries, seen a lot of different systems, including the USSR when it was still kickin’. What I see happening in our country frightens me for that reason. Goodness, we’re even into Stalinesk “purges” if we start trying political opponents from previous administrations. I make an effort to avoid politics in Sandy Says (its hard) because I don’t see a legitimate place for it in the type of writing I wish to do. Doraz, don’t you wish we could go back to the point where we could tolerate others opinions rather than relegating any thoughts that differ from our own to the major sin bin to be denounced and those who hold them consigned to the the figurative gas chambers? I value your opinion.

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