An adjustment of expectations

It has come to my attention that people are actually reading this blog.

Hmmm.

I have mixed feelings about this.  As an aspiring writer, I am encouraged by the idea that someone would actually want to read something I wrote.  On the other hand, I am writing this more for me than for anyone else. I am basically talking to myself - a condition where low expectations are often the order of the day.

So, if you are peeking over my shoulder, and you are more than welcome to do so, be prepared for some sub-Hemingway output.

Several people commented on my last blog as being "deep."  I took this as a compliment although it would have meant more to me had I actually noticed it was getting "deep."  I just ramble.

Today, I will be shallow or less deep.  The hope is that I don't come to be known as "deep Jim"; the clueless guy that dispenses wisdom in spite of his lack of same.

So I will tell stories of pets that I have owned.

Bear was a dog I once had.  He was huge, about 125 lbs.  He one time ate an entire London Broil without breaking stride as he casually meandered through the kitchen.  Another time, he went into this "pre-barf" heaving that dogs do from time to time.  I glance over just in time to see an entire block of cheddar cheese pop out.  He looked a little embarrassed and tried to act as if it was already there when he walked into the room.  I now have Bozley, same breed as Bear and proof that, at least for dogs, reincarnation exists.

I had a pot bellied pig named Sweet Pea.  She was a good girl who was fairly certain she was a dog, just a lot smarter than most other dogs (i.e. Bear).  She loved to eat.  I once put the dog food up on a small platform so the dogs could eat it without the pig pushing them out of the way.  I popped into the garage unexpectedly to find the pig had pushed a "step" over to the platform and was in the process of climbing up to claim her prize.  When she heard the door opened, she froze in place under the false assumption that I might not have noticed her.  I could tell she was trying not to even breathe as she looked at me out of the corner of her eye.  Another time, I found her passed out with only her feet showing from the open end of a 50 pound bag of dog food.  I nudged her awake.  She took a couple of bites from the food pile her head was in and passed out again; without even opening her eyes.

I (we) once had an African Grey.  These are really smart birds with an intellect comparable to a high school freshman.  Anyway, he could make any sound he wanted.  He liked to bark like a dog and then watch as the dogs ran around the house looking for the other dog.  Many a time I would put something in the microwave and then hear a "ding" way earlier than I expected.  I would check to find the microwave still running and the bird pretending to be watching something out the window.  If you picked up the telephone, he would start in with, "Yes, uh-hu, okay."

I (we) had a Moluccan Cockatoo and a Cocker Spaniel.  The bird would walk around on the floor and the dog would try to get the bird to play with it. One time it took a ball and set in on the bird's back, hoping for a game of fetch.  The bird just looked back at the dog.  You could see it was thinking, "What a dumb dog."

Okay, there you have it.  Jim-light.

I may not post tomorrow as I have an 18-hour travel day ahead of me.

I would love to hear your stories about pets that you have owned.  Feel free to post them as comments to this blog so that others can read them as well.


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j