Time’s a pip

I look into your future now, and what do I see…?

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The Dabbit

As you can see our resident dabbit is a real stand-out guy.

What’s a dabbit, you say?

Half duck, half rabbit. 

Dabbit.

 

Whatever will be

 

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WPC: Perspective

You’ve got to see things from our point of view. 

We are just so darned agreeable, but even so we’re not always treated right. I know, it’s probably not deliberate – sometimes people just don’t know they’re being hard on us. Like children – they get exuberant, and we get that – but some other things people expect are just not right. 

Like the memorial thing – that’s a sore spot for us. We get the emotional segue – the feelings we engender approximate what people feel about their lost loved ones. But we can’t forget that it’s cold out there in the rain and the snow, and that even though people give us this function for a reason, we feel we could be a lot more useful giving someone a hug. 

So we take to the airwaves. We try to help people see our true value – that we could be so much more than people let us be. Here we are filming an SPCSA infomercial. Snerk’s the spokescritter – you know – because he’s so cute. 

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DP: Imaginary

Imaginary. Hmmm, how do you suppose we at the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Stuffed Animals might approach a challenge like this? I called a meeting to discuss it, and of course, everyone had ideas.

Reginald, our resident lion, known for his courage and his penchant for tippling, thought the solution was obvious:

“Tell them about movie nights!” he exclaimed, just a little bit too loudly. “They must know about movie nights!”

“Stop yer hollering,” chided Barry Bear. He was a bit stodgy, but fun in the playground; about two years ago he took to wearing his Santa hat year-round. “I think we should share our recipes with them.”

Murray Moose, the Vice President, and a moose of impeccable character and enormous nose piped up next: “Why don’t we tell them about our field trips?”

“Those of us who actually make field trips, you mean,” interjected the secretary, Charlene. “We don’t all get to go on the field trips, you know.”

Reginald said, thoughtfully: “I’ve been. They’re a lot of fun.”

Benny, the thespian, stuck up a paw and coughed gently. “Perhaps we should tell them about the movie we’re making,” he said, causing Barry Bear to roll his eyes.

“You mean the one we’ve been making for the better part of the last six years?” he said, somewhat incredulously. “You’re referring to L’Ur Brun, the filming of which has never progressed past scene one?”

“What are you suggesting? You saying we don’t work hard?”

“Oh, not at all. You spend all day at it to be sure, though there doesn’t seem to be much progress.”

Snick jumped in then. “Boys, boys, don’t fret, don’t argue. I for one know that the movie is very important, and I do believe in it. Perhaps we should tell them how we look after the car and talk to people at the car shows.”

“But it’s only you and Snerk and Sidney who get to go to those,” complained Arthur, the black-eared dog.

“I think,” Snerky squeaked, “that we should explain what spotting is and why it’s so important.”

The group fell quiet for a moment, thinking. 

“The thing you all seem to be missing,” I said, “is that these are the very things that I do talk about in the blog.” I paused. “All the time.” I paused again, and sighed. “Which I take to mean that none of you ever actually read what I write.” I shook my head, disappointed.

There was an awkward silence. Finally, Murray said: “Well, I’ve read it. I love reading it.” He mused for a moment, then, “Perhaps we should set up a computer in the dining room where we can all read it every day as we eat.”

“That’s an excellent idea!” shrieked Charlene, who very much enjoyed her food. “Let’s do what Murray said.”

“Agreed!” cried Reginald.

“Well,” I reasoned, “It sounds ok, but I will have to discuss it with UJ, and we must consider budgetary factors. After all, it’s a capital expense.”

Reginald amended: “Ok,” he said, “let’s form a committee to consider the budgetary aspects of Charlene’s idea and to organize approaching the landlord for infrastructure considerations.”

“Seconded!” cried Snerky.

“All in favour?” I added, looking around.

“AYE!” 

 

 

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Volunteer

At a recent Society meeting UJ told us of a fine young man named Isaac, in Michigan, who, he has learned, has never had the benefit of the friendship, the companionship, the love of a critter – at all – in his life, and he asked for a volunteer to go to this young man and be what he needs now.

I am proud to say that Snook – brother to Snerk and Snick and Snuck and Sneek – immediately put up his paw and said that he would be happy to go and put his training to good use with Isaac, and this has already been put in to effect. Society funds were used to arrange portage, and he is on his way as we speak.

We will miss Snook, but we understand he is going to a place where he will be loved very much, and that makes us happy.

This truly is what being a critter is all about.