Posts Tagged ‘writing’

Thanks to all who have followed us and those who have commented and linked back to our efforts. It is greatly appreciated.

Unfortunately, WordPress only just delivered nearly a year’s worth of notifications to us through their app, so while we thought we were lost, alone and unloved – while we thought that nobody cares – it turns out that we couldn’t have been more wrong.

Thanks to all of you. We will now re-double our efforts to represent critters everywhere.

We are back in the saddle again. 

 

We stand in awe of the beauty of flame which truly is a work of art, supreme and sublime in nature. 

We just love to sit and watch the flickering of a nice, warm candle.

How about you?

 

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

 

I’d like to take a moment to welcome Rooby-Roo to our little fold. 

UJ found him last October, and it went – as I understand it – like this:

UJ was at a small plaza near his school last October, getting some dental work done. When he came out of the dentist’s office he started walking, head-down, toward the train, but just then he thought he heard a voice. 

“Rooby-Rooby-roooooooo!”

He looked around but saw nothing.

“Rooby-Rooby-rooooooooooooooooooo!”

There it was again. He looked a little further and there, behind a big bank of gravelly snow, was Rooby-roo.

UJ leaned over, and said: 

“Well hello there, Smiley, so what’s your story?”

They talked back and forth for a moment or two. UJ established that Rooby had been most unkindly tied to the back of a big, ugly black pickup truck, that he didn’t like it, and that he didn’t like the people he was with because they we’re mean and cruel, laughed at him a lot – oh, and because they tied him to the back of a pickup truck. So, both sad and angry, crying with dismay, he had untied the knot in the bungee cord which held him to the truck, and jumped.

It was a rough landing and he bumped his head a bit, but he bounced well and landed in the snow bank. And there he sat. 

And sat. 

And sat.

Rooby-roo sat at the edge of that parking lot peering over the snow bank for three whole days and nights before his cries were finally heard. But as soon as they were – as soon as UJ noticed him – boy, oh boy, did his world change forever! Why? Because UJ brought him home to our headquarters, to all the love and acceptance he could ever want or need. 

He wasn’t really comfortable meeting everyone right away, and we respect that with new members. In fact, he even went to rest at a nearby spa for a while until he was finally ready for friends again. 

But now he’s here, he’s home, and we’re very pleased about it.

So, welcome Rooby-roo. It sure looks like you’re settling in with your critter friends now.

Nice smile, buddy!

 

We’ve told him and we’ve told him: If you’re going to come spotting with us you need to be clear-headed! But Reginald likes to tipple. There – it’s out. No more secrets. He enjoys a slug of Ol’ Whatsit every so often – ok, a little more often than ‘every so often’ – and it really shows when he tries to take on important assignments. Like spotting. 

I mean, is there anything more important than spotting? You just can’t be sloshed when you’re spotting, any more than you should be sloshed when you’re driving. Spotting comes with heavy responsibilities and if you can’t tell real from copy when you’re spotting then maybe you should just lie down and watch the world spin around. 

We’ve tried to get at the reason for him tippling, but he’s very mum on the subject: he just taps his nose with his right paw and says “mum”, like we’re supposed to know what that means. Maybe he misses his Mommy in Toronto. He came from there, moved back, came west again, went east, came back, went for a visit. He’s probably working through some traumas from his days at the Canadian Red Cross.

Anyway, spotting, for Reginald, is an accident waiting to happen. We love him, but the regulars get quite upset when he comes along because they have to keep helping him up. See here how Snerkie chastises him while Snick tries to ignore him. 

We love him. Reggie is a big part of our critter family, and not just because of his nose – which is enormous, by the way. We will never, ever, give up on him. But I don’t think we’ll let him go spotting anymore. I think I’ll assign him to something more in line with his talents. 

Like politics. 

 

On Loving 

 

ImaginaryHmmm, 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!” 

 

 

We’re going tomorrow to help with the local Halloween effort – the creation of a haunted house at the old community hall.

We all have different jobs.

Mine, of course, is to supervise. It’s very important to have proper supervision over a task so large, and believe you me, I will crack the whip.

Snerkie and the rest of the smaller critters will don costumes and pretend to be rats and mice, running all over the floor, scaring all the little children half out of their wits.

Murray will lead a band of critters in carrying knives around – like slashers – and jumping out at the children as they pass by. Don’t worry, they are plastic knives – enough to convince a little one for a moment, but no one else.

Charlene the cute chick has put together a bowl of wet, squidgy stuff like hamburger and noodles and spaghetti, for the kids to put their hands in while blindfolded – that always scares the heck out of them.

Graham and Eugene will be in charge of music and eerie sounds – the better to set the mood.

Barry and Benji Bear will work the smoke machine in the cemetery – to welcome the victi – Er – visitors to the Haunted Mansion.

One of the Poops brothers came to me the other day while we were planning all this and said “I wish it could be Halloween all year round – it’s just so much fun!”

Sidney

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Preparing the crowd for Halloween.