OPINION? Everybody Has One!!

My old Dog is getting so fat and lazy, can’t or won’t chase any of the yard rabbits or squirrels and the dang things are eating up my close relative’s garden. We had one big mess of lettuce and then the rows were cleaned out. All the tops of radishes were nibbled to death as soon as they peeked up out of the dirt. Go figure, the green onions survived!

I lay this at the feet of Dog. He is the guardian of the farmstead; it is his job and he is paid well. We provide him room and board and a vehicle to ride in. He does not have to pay taxes, have a colonoscopy, be compatible with my close relative’s brotherin-law or change tires on the hay truck. He is played with, ears are scratched and I give him his heartworm pill in a hamburgerpatty.

Of course, I am in trouble because MY dog is not doing his job. I have been chewed on severely for allowing the trespasses to occur and threatened to be caused to put a chicken wire fence all around her garden. I do not want to fence her garden spot. The ground is not conducive to deep posthole digging and I ain’t conducive to digging in rock.

I thought this ordeal over and decided to take Dog to a groomer for a nice summer shave. He, Dog, is not long haired but his fur is thick and I figured a nice clip job would make him cool and aware of his obligations around the yard. He rolledhis eyes and whined like a little she dog when I pulled him in the front door of the establishment. Dogs were barking and the air was full of froufrou smells.

The nice lady said it would be a couple of hours and I could pick Dog up with his new “do”. I kind of winced at that remark seeing as how God is all male and belongs pretty much to me, being all male. I was beginning to wonder if I had opened the door to a nightmare instead of fixing a problem.

I moseyed on down to a coffee shop on the corner and visited with some of the fellers in there. I knew one or two of them and most of the other guy’s kinfolk. I’ve been around here a long time. We drank a couple cups of coffee and told some tales about how good we raised beef and corn and the time passed quickly.

I stood up and thanked them for the visit and one of the fellers even paid my tab. Sure enough feeling good and happy to havedone old Dog such a favor, my steps were light and I even whistled a little tune as I strolled back down the street to the Doggie Salon.

It is my opinion, and everyone has one, about the worse thing a man can do to his best dog is to have him spend a couple of hours in a Salon. Poor ole Dog came out with his tail tucked, a big blue ribbon taped to his head and his toenails painted pink. He couldn’t look me in the eye and he refused to sit in the seat. He curled up in a little ball on the floorboard and hid his face as best he could!

I hired a fence builder to come out and take care of my close relative’s fence request. Dog I went to the pasture to hide!

-Bill

Bill is the pen name of a Gravette author of this column

Opinion, Pages 4 on 06/09/2010