Who done me wrong?
That fat Gregory the Groundhog or Chucky the Woodchuck as Karen calls it, is nowhere to be seen. After reporting his existence on the weekend, his presence and the danger he represented to my two Cocker Spaniels prompted me to call a Wildlife Rescue organization to remove and relocate the pudgy rodent.
They sent a nice guy (Bucky) who set two traps around our shed where the groundhog has nested under. He said he had software on his phone which would tell him when the traps had “activated.”
Now two days later, nothing reported and there is no evidence (hide nor hair) of our temporary visitor. He has probably taken up residence elsewhere in one of my neighbor’s yards in our quiet little neighborhood.
You know what else disappeared into thin air, never to be seen again?
The two hundred and twenty-five bucks I spent for those two empty traps that sit there mocking me in the afternoon sun.
What a dumbass.
If I come to find out that he and Bucky have conspired to fleece unsuspecting animal lovers like Karen and I by showing up in someone’s yard and then after hearing me make the call to the Wildlife Rescue, he took off to do the same thing over and over.
That sounds like something I would do if I was a corrupt animal trainer.
One of the most hilarious episodes of all-time fave Frasier, is the one where his Dad, (impeccably portrayed by veteran actor John Mahoney), was trying to solve a murder case from before he retired from the force. The plot involves a chimpanzee and an animal trainer and in this day and age where everything is must see, this really is a MUST SEE.
Also in this day and age you can access the episode. The scene where Frasier explains his crime-solving MO to his father and other cops is sure to leave you rolling in the aisles.
Back to scams and scammers.
Definitions of scam involve fraud, swindling, and cheating others for quick profit. Anyone involved in that stuff are human swine.
No respect.
Self, or otherwise.
Thieves.
Assholes.
Losers.
Anyway, enough of that.
I wrote this while I was stoned and hearkening back to when I was not as evolved as a lover or man (I know; very hard to believe). I mean the physicality thing I had down, but I was 20 years mentally behind my age, a gap that has since increased exponentially according to Karen bin Laden, The Domestic Despot.
They delivered our bed today for the second time, I might add. I tried sleeping on the Queen, but Bruiser and Murphy, my two Cockers, are nowhere near as small as they seem to think they are and I found myself in a nightly struggle to carve out a small area to stretch out.
I pulled the plug and convinced Karen to upgrade to a King and I am really looking forward to breaking that bad boy in tonight.
I hope everyone sleeps soundly and worry-free tonight (and every night).
Check out this work of art I came up with in the doctor’s office this morning:
She smiled and captured my soul
She changed the weeds into cherry blossoms
She shared her fearlessness and ferocity
She made every sacrifice
Every effort
She made the world a better place
Integrity
She made the world a better place for me
Eliminating fear
No distrust
She raised my children
She never had a formal gown
She had lines
I kissed them a thousand times
One single solitary day
Erased decades
So I left her.
Stay well.
Mark's Playhouse 