You’ve gotta be kidding
Labor Day weekend is coming up for everybody in the USA. Many people celebrate by having a lot of fun, but out here at the Ranch Pen we mostly, well…labor. I’m pleased to say that our border collie, Nellie, has embraced that rigid work ethic and chosen an occupation–somewhat unusual for a dog, I must say–but an occupation nonetheless.
She wants to be a writer.
Google translator to the rescue
Every day that the wind doesn’t blow hair off the head, or the temperature doesn’t rise to one-hundred-degrees in the shade by 10:30 in the morning, one may usually find me on the front porch for a few hours, bleeding onto the writing program on my laptop. (Sometimes literally, but usually figuratively.)
Nellie often joins the painful process on the porch–generally after a dip in the pond. Ever helpful, she shakes cooling drops of green water over my fevered brow and laptop. Puzzled by the shrieks of rage coming out of me, aka her PLOP (pack leader/old person,) Nellie channels Google translator.
Google quickly spits out the meaning of the shrieks of rage in pig latin–a language which Nellie reads and speaks fluently: “Well done, Nellie. Do that shaking maneuver again in a few minutes, would ya?”
Nellie wouldn’t have ever guessed that, but…whatever. Anything for her PLOP. (shakes pond water on me again.)
But Back To The Point
Anyway, this morning when I staggered out to the “office”, I found out Nellie’s secret passion to write stuff. How? Well, by clever modifications she had made to ANOTHER of my writing chairs, of course.
***Many people don’t know this, but the single greatest occupational hazard of writing is bohonkus-falling-asleep-erosis (I’m pretty sure that’s pig latin, also). All chairs must be modified to the owner’s specifications.
Nellie has tried at least three times this summer to fix a chair to her particular body size and shape, but I have been slow on the uptake. I just thought she was shredding my chairs. How could I be so blind? It was the sign of a genius at work.
No worries, now. I get it. And with her own patriotic chair, she can work comfortably on her novel, Fifty Shades Of Odor, for minutes and minutes at a time…when her Attention Deficit Disorder isn’t bothering her.
Until next time, God bless all y’all and have a great weekend. I’ll be down at Wal Mart looking for a new chair of my own…made of titanium, I guess.
*These dogs don’t necessarily endorse the blog we just love dogs. Why else would we keep putting up with them?