Found on Craigslist
Given the chance, I would have testified under oath that Craigslist/Pets is not the place to go for fine literature. I would have been wrong. And I would have missed making the acquaintance of the best Pecos-Bill-inspired writer on the West coast
Let me introduce you to Dave, my new favorite author, from Oregon’s Willamette Valley. He spent 23 years in the USAF, where in his words, “They let me hang out of helicopters and shoot big guns.” To say the least, he has had a rough-and-tumble past. Today he is a grandfather and “an unrepentant wood cutter.”
What does he do for relaxation? Surprise! He blogs!
Well, teachers, here it is! Proof that writing is a he-man sport with no mandatory retirement! I found it on Craigslist.
Cat Needs New Home
Like I said, in the past, Ol' Snorp would have savored the prospect of dealing with the problem, but things have changed for my dog recently.
After last week's short sortie against his feline adversary, Snorp bolted back into the house without stopping to open the door. True to form, Snorp paced relentlessly back and forth, chain-smoking and muttering, all the while casting a wary eye in the direction of the cat/destroyed front door. Constant trips to the toilet for slurps of cool, refreshing water left a trail of drool, cigarette butts and the occasional tear between the bathroom and Snorp's lookout.
Normally, I refuse to believe one word that comes out of Snorp. He is an unrepentant liar and always has been. My view of him is changing. It was only after I saw him blessing himself and as he says, 'getting into the word,' that I detected a turning leaf.
Most mornings now, Snorp peers apprehensively through the pulled drapes, looking for his rival. He's smoking more, sleeping less and has taken twitching to a new level. Unexpected loud noises, such as the beating of a ladybug's wings down the street, reduces my once fearless warrior canine into a puddle-producing, tail-tucking, quivering mass of canine anxiety.
Someone needs to do something with this cat.
Property values have plummeted and the school district has re-routed its buses. Mail is no longer delivered. The police are unavailable. The neighborhood IQ has slipped and the internet has quit working. Milk sours in the refrigerator. A chilling, evil wind blows from the North.
The cat reclines quietly in the parking lot, eyeballing his domain. Drivers, unwilling to incur the cat's wrath, watch dust, leaves and bird poop accumulate on their unused, unapproachable vehicles.
Forget the 're-homing' fee. We have cash, and a lot of it.
It's bad here. We need help.
Squirt me an email. We'll talk contracts and plausible deniability.
It’s enough to give a teacher a few ideas for a really fun writing assignment, isn’t it?