Subject: Manse Diaries: Little Doktor Do Does It

Date: 01 Nov 1997 00:00:00 GMT

From: (MegaLiz)

Organization: MotPU: Where Binary Moodswings are ALWAYS on the Menu

Newsgroups: alt.foot.fat-free, alt.slack






Spunky finally has a sandbox again. Not only did I hurt myself hauling

a HUGE bag of wet sand for her, I was almost tackled by a sand bag

bouncer at the nursery for fetching it without his permission. I guess

I look a lot like a sand rustler.


That was really the only thing wrong with our trip to the nursery.

Business, aside from pumpkin sales and poinsettia cultivation, is

dead, dead, dead. There were no other customers, and only a few bored

plant tenders, shuffling wheelbarrows full of supplies that nobody is

going to remember to buy until Spring. We stopped by their big,

neglected pond and looked at the goldfish, who are getting pretty

logey. Even so, when they saw us coming, they managed to pop their

lips at us expecting food. The goldfish, that is. Sparky enjoyed

stomping through the deserted greenhouses, studying the naked

trellises and peering at the old bird's nests. I made her smell some

lavender, but she was too busy to give it more than a perfunctory



While I paid for the sand, Spunky found a cat. She was so

uncharacteristcally gentle with it that the Plant Lady led her to meet

the Stealth Kitty of the store. Stealth Kitty was sleeping in a box of

christmas tree lights on one of the display shelves, which is much

better camouflage than one might think. He allowed Spunky to love him

thoroughly for about two minutes. The Plant Lady confided to me that

the nursery cats ordinarily will never let children touch them. I

didn't bother to explain that Spunky isn't ordinary.


She has a WAY with animals. All kids LIKE animals, but with Spunky it

seems pretty obvious that animals like HER. Our dog, a stupid, useless

feeelthy bag of fur, will listen to the Rev because he feeds her and

to me because she FEARS me. She ignores everyone else--except li'l

Spunky. She reacts instantly from her canine stupor to whatever

commands she is given by this kid, a kid who is half her weight. It

makes no sense. It must be love.


We've begun to notice that her thrall extends beyond the pet kingdom.

If Spunky goes to the woods, she has to shoulder deer out of the way.

When we take HER to the zoo, the bears come out of their concrete

caves during the hottest part of the day. I have to wonder if it's a

SMELL spell, concocted with magical proportions of Mr. Bubble, peanut

butter and playdough.


Anyway, after convincing the sand man that I had paid for her sand, we

went home and set up the box, and soon she was happily soaking in her

new nest. She had a game in there with her rubber lions. I have some

difficulty seeing the appeal of the rubber lions. Most of them are

permanently reclining. These usually serve as the audience for the few

that are permanently attacking. "C'mon you idiots! Follow me!" said

one of the attack lions to the sleepy lions. The sleepy lions

eventually bounced on their stomachs behind it.


I was only half-watching this, while I did some half-assed

winterization. I couldn't really hear her very well, because the

damned crows were carrying on for some reason. Cramming the kiddie

pool into a too-small garbage bag I hear, "Knock it off, you crows!

Can you hear me, crows? I SAID KNOCK IT OFF!!" The crows stopped

cawing for a LONG time. They started up a few more times, of course,

but she shouted them down and they shut up promptly each time. I was

impressed, but distracted.


"What's an idiot?" I asked.


"I doan know," she said. "Can I hab some shockwit?"



* "Okay! Okay! I'll NEVAH EVAH do it AGAIN!" - The Spunky

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