A DOG JOKE

POST # 408

To finish off my blogposts for the month of May, I thought I would end with a joke, that Dora-dog happened to hear, from one of her four-legged friends while we were out for a walk the other day.   I will have to keep this one in mind to tell people in the future.     OK, so here goes.

TALKING DOG FOR SALE

A guy is driving around the back woods of Montana and he sees a sign in front of a broken down shanty-style house:  'TALKING DOG FOR SALE'

He rings the bell and the owner appears and tells him the dog is in the backyard.

The guy goes into the backyard and sees a nice looking Labrador retriever sitting there.
'You talk?' he asks.
'Yep', the Lab replies.

After the guy recovers from the shock of hearing a dog talk, he says,
'So, what's your story?

The Lab looks up and says, 'Well, I discovered that I could talk when I was pretty young.
I wanted to help the government so... I told the CIA.

In no time at all, they had me jetting from country to country, sitting in rooms with spies and world leaders, because no one figured a dog would be eavesdropping.  I was one of their most valuable spies for eight years running...

But the jetting around really tired me out, and I knew I wasn't getting and younger so I decided to settle down.  I signed up for a job at the airport to do some undercover security, wandering near suspicious characters and listening in.

I uncovered some incredible dealings and was awarded a bunch of medals.

I got married, had a mess of puppies, and now I'm just retired.'

The guy is amazed.  He goes back in the house and asks the owner how much he wants for the dog.

'Ten dollars,' the guy says.

'Ten dollars?  This dog is amazing!  Why on earth are you selling him so cheap?'

'Because he is a bullshitter.  He's never been out of the yard!'


grateful for every breath,

Paul
The Thoughtful Wanderer

WEEDING AND GLOVE CHASING

POST # 407


Years ago , I re-discovered my interest in weeding.  I was in Port Townsend at the time, and there was a vast quantity of weeds that needed to be pulled out.  Once I began the project, it became a daily ritual, and one that I looked forward to.  I was in my own little world, playing in the dirt and doing something productive.  I began to love this activity.

Fast forward to 2020, and there is plenty of time to practice the art of weeding once again.  Mary's place certainly doesn't have the quantity of weeds that were present back in Port Townsend, but there is enough to keep my happily entertained for a while.

The toughest weeding challenge here, was when I decided to attack the weeds in the two gravel driveways.  That was much more difficult than working in the garden, but now that that it is behind me, I can do a simple survey every now and again of the driveways, and if I see any new weeds popping up their heads, it is a simple matter to yank them out.

I'm not really sure what it is exactly that I find enjoyable about this activity, but it doesn't matter.  It is work, but it doesn't feel like it.  Dora-dog came by every once in a while to do an inspection, just to make sure that the weeder was doing his job correctly.  At one point in yesterday's activity, she re-discovered a bone that she had buried a while back, so perhaps all of my digging had inspired her to do some digging of her own.  Late in the day, after all the work had been accomplished, I saw Dora-dog across the yard, with something hanging out of her mouth, which I couldn't identify.  She had a look on her face that told me that I had caught her doing something that she shouldn't be doing.  As soon as I headed towards her to find out what she had in her mouth, she took off around the corner of the house.  As far as she was concerned, the chase-me-around-the-house game was on.  It wasn't long before I realized that she had found one of my leather gloves.   I chased her around the house a few times, and then she disappeared for longer than normal.   As I wandered around the back of the house, there she was, attempting to complete the job that she had started a few minutes before.  My glove was rapidly disappearing into the same hole that she had dug up her bone from earlier in the day.  I managed to rescue it, just in the nick of time.  If I hadn't showed up when I did, the missing glove mystery may have never been solved.

So that was yesterday's activity.  It was both rewarding and fun all at the same time.  Weeding and glove chasing.  Who could ask for more?


grateful for every breath,

Paul
The Thoughtful Wanderer

EXTREMELY SLIM ODDS

POST # 406

 A PHOTO OF DAD (FAR LEFT) AND THE REST OF THE MARCOTTE CLAN

In light of all that is going on in the world in 2020, it's always good to remind oneself that the odds of ever being born in the first place are extremely slim.  This subject came up in a conversation today with my friend Guy, and in fact it was Guy that mentioned this to me many years ago.  Up to that point, it wasn't something that I had ever considered.  Nowadays, I do try to remind myself each and every day, that it is a real fluke that I am even here at all.  By keeping that in mind, it helps me to put things into perspective.  Whatever life dishes out, I try to be grateful.  After all, at least I am here to experience whatever comes my way, for however long that may last.

grateful for every breath,

Paul
The Thoughtful Wanderer

SOME COMIC RELIEF

POST # 405

DOES THE DAMN THING WORK?

I was scrolling through some old photos, and I came across this image.  It makes as much sense as anything these days, and it ALWAYS makes me laugh.  And goodness knows, we can always use a laugh.
It has  already been posted here a while ago, but it's worth re-posting.


grateful for every breath, (and laugh)

Paul
The Thoughtful Wanderer