Something wicked this way digs

So where have I been? No marriages in my world. It's been all business and, well, the business ain't been good. Turns out I've been spending too much time pursuing the natives and their long-eared kin. A whole new nemesis has worked its way into my back 40. The border collie pointed it out a couple weeks back. "See those bumps all over the sideyard?" he asked, flipping the pages of Granta and popping a Saltine into his mouth. "Moles. Better study up, bud. It's showtime."


Well, I ain't much for book learnin'. My first cram session about moles didn't work out too well. Spent all day worrying we all had skin cancer. The border collie sighed and rummaged around on the IntraWeb and put me straight.



Turns out these are ugly varmits who can turn the countryside into swiss cheese. Oh sure, cartoons try to make anything cuddly and harmless. But these things dig and dig and pretty soon you've got an 18-hole golf course right up your backside. And they kill shrubs. Not good for my job security with the newfangled plants the house mates had installed last year.


My mission is simple. Turn these things into slippers or I get sacked. The pressure is on...

Not amused

Must be slow time for news. Everybody around these parts chattering about the native who popped up in this self portrait taken in Canada. National Geographic, one of the border collie's favorite magazines, is featuring the photo. How cute. Cute? Take a good look. The native is flashing gang signs. And they aren't friendly gang signs. Wake up, people!

Hmmmmmm.....

The border collie advises that squirrels lose all sense of judgment when pursuing food. We can identify with that. There has to be a way to use this to our advantage.

Brainstormin'

So, the border collie has been on the injured reserve list again. Pinched nerve, we're told. Like Neil Young said, the powers that be left me here to do the thinking. How could I keep the natives in line by myself? The border collie is all woozy on meds, so all he could come up with was "try fly paper."



After trying to come up with something myself, that fly paper idea just kept popping back into my springer brain...



Maybe it's worth a shot...

Diverted

The border collie was the first to spot it: a glazed hockey puck hanging from a string on the back porch. I went out to investigate. Oh, did it smell good. I couldn't stop staring at it. I drew closer to investigate and the sugary medallion rose ever so slightly out of reach. I heard giggling. I returned to the kitchen to fetch a stool...


...when I returned, the object of my affection had a bite taken out of it. I heard more giggling, this time muffled by chewing. I ducked back into the house to fetch the border collie to help assess the situation...

..."I think the scoundrels are having a little fun at our expense," the border collie said as the giggling turned to guffaws. "And I think it's time to plot our revenge."

Holiday hangover

Ouch. Tough weekend in the basement. A lot of pop pop pop and fizzle sizzle thwarp and boom! I'm sleeping it off on the landing. Thunderstorms expected this week -- that means cloud water and booms and more time in the basement. The natives are chattering away like never before. And the border collie wonders why I prefer February.

Fizzle

It's that time of year again. And I'm missing most of it. Quite unfortunate, too, since it's the border collie's birthday on top of Indepedence Day and all that.



The natives get in the swing of things, but you won't find me out there admiring the stars and stripes.


You see, for some reason many folks like to celebrate the holiday by setting off all sorts of munitions. Some glow, some sizzle, some soar and whistle and others just go pop pop pop pop pop...


So, for the next few days I'll be huddling in the basement. All of this is great fun until someone loses an eye....