Dearest Pamela, my friend of many years and a few more, has the great impudence to suggest that she and her family are moving to Arizona. She has forgotten that IT’S ALL ABOUT ME.
She and I went on a road-trip there, once, and I believe her Parents, May They Rest in Peace, and mine (who don’t read this blog unless I show them directly) would blanch at the speed with which this trip was accomplished. Pam’s Father had once said something about which line on the road to hug in race-car driving, if that tells you anything about it.
It was early May or Late April and we faced formidable odds: A weird infestation of some sort of “Royal” butterfly (not Monarch) so you couldn’t drive about without getting HUGE insects smish-smashed and spattered across your windshield and grill and so on. We also faced simultaneous PMS, race-car driving in a “sporty” (that’s my Father’s designation – the car had a STRIPE) red Ford escort (an evil car, but it didn’t show it’s true colours just then), and when we got near the urban center of Tempe/Mesa/Phoenix/Scottsdale/London all gummed up together it was approximately 5,000° Fahrenheit. Thank God for the air conditioning.
Obviously, we survived and went on to have normal, productive lives thereafter (except for me). But I did not think Pam would MOVE there. Such is the way of things…
OKAY – to the burning issue at hand: Scout the Dog. Pam figures that Scout, being primarily an outdoor dog, wouldn’t do well in the pottery kiln known as Arizona; Scout LOVES seasons – you know – snow and such, and I’m guessing she would be AGAINST being baked alive (Pam’s REALLY smart about these things. She’s smart about EVERYTHING. I believe that makes her a SMARTY EVERY DAY!). Thus Pam endeavors to find Scout a good home in Utah (or, I suppose, the surrounding area). Here are Scout’s specs:
See Scout be SO PRETTY
Sounds like a good deal to me… I’d snap her up. But, of course, I have Kitten Children… And no home of my own…
Oh – and if you’d like to get a whole SET of To Kill a Mockingbird pets, I can help you out. First, head to Kansas and pilfer the cat of Charles and Ashley named “Atticus” (they’d still have three others). Then, head to Maryland and abduct my Brother, David. “WHY?” you may ask. Well, his friends used to call him “Boo Radley.” I don’t suppose they were trying to be very nice, but he is large of stature, gentle, quiet and puts things in the knotholes of trees (okay, as far as I know, that last one is a big, fat lie). He is not mentally challenged (miles from it, actually), but if you asked him nicely he’s probably act as though he was.
As for Jem, you’ll have to get a fish or something and name it as such. Then you’ll have my most favourite characters from this book:
So PRETTY PLEASE, consider a charming addition to your family. Remember: Dogs = “Man’s Best Friend” and so on.