Sunday, March 14, 2010

"Poppy" Can Fly! ...


I just heard an incredible story, whether true or not depends upon ones' level of gullibility ... it concerns the perils of a beloved family pet ... a three-pound Chihuahua appropriately named "Poppy" to be exact ... now Poppy isn't your ordinary, every day, three-pound Chihuahua, oh no ... seems Poppy can fly! ... or so it seemed ... reports have it that Poppy was out in this family's backyard doing what any red-blooded, Mexican, three-pound Chihuahua normally does ... all of a sudden, Poppy's master, a nine-year-old boy, heard what he described as "something awful" ... "it was a terrible yelp" ... "real loud, and we heard wings flapping, and we looked back, and Poppy was flying right up there in the sky above our house" ... seems some type of large bird had picked up Poppy and whisked him away ... "it kind of looked like he was in both of it's talons, and the bird was flying up as Poppy was looking down, terrified and whining piteously" the tearful boy said.

The distraught family spent hours searching the nearby streets and neighborhoods for poor Poppy, but couldn't find him anywhere, thus making for a long and tumultuous night for all concerned ... "it was a very sleepless night because of everything that kept going through my mind, was my little dog being torn apart?" ... "it was hard to imagine that he was going through something like that!" said the boy's mother ... "when I went to sleep, I'd lost a little hope" replied the nine-year-old ... but joy cometh in the morning! ... after a night of tossing and turning, relief showed up right at the front door as the boy's dad was leaving for work ... it was Poppy, still in one piece, despite being somewhat dirty, disheveled and scratched up ... "I just broke down in tears because my little Poppy was back!" exclaimed the overjoyed and surprised lad ... wildlife experts say some large birds can lift animals twice their own body weight ... pet owners should stay close by their pets when outdoors, or use a leash ... indeed, this moving account brought to mind another similar experience which occurred years ago involving our mutual friend and acquaintance Grandpa DooLittle ... my memory is as follows:

A while back, Grandpa and Grandma DooLittle came under relentless attack from a thieving and pretentious, overgrown raven wearing a ragged suit of course feathers as black as a shiny lump of coal ... the airborne larcenist would sit around all day at various vantage points of sufficient height watching for anything worthy of blatant pilferage, it would then swoop down and swipe whatever happened to tickle it's fancy at the time ... although, the bird's poor lack of judgment and untoward behavior appeared to be compulsive in nature, for each of the many items "swooped and swiped" would always reappear undamaged and in their original locations within two or three days ... none of the items were of any real benefit or use to the big fowl ... among the list of objects taken at one time or another were numerous pieces of silverware, sets of keys, reading glasses, writing instruments, watches and last but not least -- Grandma DooLittle's false teeth which had been left soaking in a bowlful of baking soda and warm water on the kitchen window sill ... Grandpa had often pondered bringing about immediate cessation of this inglorious menace to society's existence with a well-placed load of birdshot from his trusty Long Tom shotgun, but reckoned the miserable wretch to be more of an entertaining nuisance than genuine threat ... besides, the mangy reprobate seemed to be a bit of an independent and artful thinker ... such as himself!

However, most notable of all thefts had to be Grandpa DooLittle's prized, antique, hand carved Meerschaum pipe ... each evening after supper, Grandpa would go out on the porch to sit in his rocking chair and smoke that grand pipe ... this particular evening, after settling into his chair and loading that pipe with his favorite tobacco, Grandpa noticed a loose shoelace on one of his old brogans, so he gently placed his now lit Meerschaum on the porch rail and bent down to retie his shoe ... when he raised himself back up and reached for his pipe, his pipe was gone ... in the distance could be heard the sound of wings flapping as Grandpa looked up just in time to see that pesky raven lifting up, up and away with his beloved Meerschaum pipe clenched tightly within it's crusty beak ... Grandpa DooLittle was beside himself as a lone tear crept down his wrinkled face ... not so much because of the untimely theft of his Meerschaum, he knew from previous dealings with the unscrupulous critter that his pipe would most likely reappear unharmed on the porch railing within a day or so ... no, Grandpa DooLittle was more perturbed with the realization that he wouldn't be able to enjoy that fresh tin of tobacco until that bird decided to return the Meerschaum, his only pipe!

A few minutes later, in front of the general store, Grandpa Poteet and Uncle Virgil Hunnicutt had settled in for their usual evening game of checkers ... now Uncle Virgil was resident scholar, philosopher and near genius, rumoured to be well over one hundred years-of-age, and thought to possess an IQ of galactic dimensions, consequently, due to his tediously protracted longevity, this dignified centenarian was hard of hearing and nearly blind to boot ... sometimes after supper, Grandpa DooLittle would go down to the store to watch his fellow curmudgeons play checkers, so when Virgil Hunnicutt saw this frowzled creature all of a sudden drop down out of the sky and come to rest perched on a nearby wooden crate, intently staring down at the checkerboard, a smoking Meerschaum pipe sitting proudly in it's mouth, he couldn't help but proclaim ... "DooLittle, it probably ain't none of my business at all, but you'd better cut back just a tad on your intake of do-it-yourself liquid intoxicants ... you're beginnin' to look as haggard as a tired, ol' crow!"


--sja.

18 comments:

BOB said...

Hee hee ... 3 bags!!

sja said...

Full ...

mysticdave said...

Damn! What and entertaining and funny story :) I am not certain if my level of gullibility is such to make me actually believe this to be fact....but funny as hell none the less...but, for pure entertainment sake....i give this one 5 bags!...It totally made my typically boring Sunday, and i am still LMAO :)

Neva Flores said...

Hilarious!

BOB said...

Guess I'm 'bout the only one of us boys old enough to remember uncle Virgil when he was young ... he taught me how to shoot my shotgun, or at least he tried.

I remember shooting at some of Grandma's geese ... "Bobby, you couldn't hit the broad side of the barn ... let me show you how" ... and he did!

Born and raised back back in the hills when fishin' and huntin' was much more for food than for sport ... saying that Virgil was an excellent marksman would be an understatement of the first order ... he was a natural, the best in the county ... that's what folks said and to that I can honestly attest.

Well, Uncle Virgil took careful aim ... but hit nary a goose ... not a single one!!

"There, that's how it's done!!"

However, the barn, though it still stood, the last time I was there ... would never be the same ... broad side, dead center!!

"That, I'll never forget" ...

I don't usually belabor the obvious but sometimes you have to spell it out for some folks ... in addition to being an excellent shot, Uncle Virgil had a wonderful sense of humor and wisdom beyond his years.

He was truly a wonderful uncle, friend, and great cook too!

sja said...

Mysticdave, all I'm going to say is that half of the story is actually true, I think, I'm just not sayin' which half! ... glad you enjoyed it ...

Neva Flores it's good to see you again, glad you got a laugh too ...

sja said...

Goodness Bob, you really knew and remember Uncle Virgil ... if that's the case, then he could be closer to '200+' years old! ...

BOB said...

As Dave said ... five bags!!

BOB said...

and, you have from this 200 year old man ... or is it 2,000?

sja said...

200 in "Poppy" years ...

BOB said...

Well ... that was to have said ... you have email from ... this blind, 2,000 year old ... Carol says hi ... you made her laugh!

sja said...

Hello to the lovely Carol ... hope you're feeling better ...

nothingprofound said...

Great storytelling, as always! There's a movie somewhere in this, the visuals are so strong. That raven is truly a bird of the imagination.

sja said...

Thanks again Nothingprofound ... more to come, I hope ...

jewelknits said...

Very funny!! Thanks for the laugh!!

sja said...

Thank you Jewelknits ...

Talkin' Texan said...

The story about the crow is funny funny, but about the poor little dog...
This actually happened to my Chihuahua when I was a kid. His name was Jigger. He had been bitten by a rattle snake, survived the whole ordeal, and the first day the little fellow felt well enough to go outside and walk around an eagle swooped down and grabbed him up. Unlike the dog in your story, ours didn't return. I'm afraid he was a bird's breakfast. :(

Thanks for the BFF through BlogFrog. Looking forward to getting to know you. Come visit. :)

sja said...

Sorry to hear that about your little dog Talkin' Texas, sadly the story about Poppy actually happened too ... I hope folks know that although I write stories which seemingly make light of heavy situations, that's just been my way of taking some of the sting out of a not so happy life and simply survive ... glad you like my stories!