|
|
The Suburbanite
  • Outtakes Around The Lakes: We made it

  • Whew. Now that it’s over, I can report how close a call it was! About a week and a half ago when the world almost ended, I’m sure the suspense had everyone on edge. ‘Twas closer than Harold Camping’s almost forgotten Saturday, the May 21, 2011, end-of-the-world fiasco and a lot closer than his Oct. 21, 2011 mess.

    • email print
  • Whew. Now that it’s over, I can report how close a call it was! About a week and a half ago when the world almost ended, I’m sure the suspense had everyone on edge. ‘Twas closer than Harold Camping’s almost forgotten Saturday, the May 21, 2011, end-of-the-world fiasco and a lot closer than his Oct. 21, 2011 mess.
    That same 89-year old minister, whom I call “The Master of World Pessimism,” was wrong for the fourth time. Let’s all keep hoping he never gets it right. I call them fiascos, messes and disasters because that’s what they are. They fail to fulfill their promises. The world, thank the good Lord, continues.
    I must admit, though, it never seemed to bother our hound. Sadie Lou has always ignored these world-ending prophesies. It's as if only she knows the truth. In May, she faithfully satisfied her job requirements as the CFSO (Chief Family Security Officer) by continuing to chase the rabbits, ducks, geese and whatever wildlife she saw as a threat to her source of food (the wife and I).
    In October she lit out for every killer squirrel that had ever invaded her airspace. Amazingly, it’s the first time the birds were able to feast at the feeders since our last dog, ‘Tego, did likewise. And woe to the cats who even dreamed of catching one of her protected feathered friends. If this world was gonna end, it would’ve ended right then and there for the local felines.
    But this time it was different. This time she was as nervous as a chicken shaking like a bowl of JELL-O in a paint mixing machine.
    It all started Dec. 21, about 12 hours before 11:11 p.m., the hour and minute when Armageddon was supposed to hit us. Notice how all these predictions calling for the Rapture or Armageddon always fall on the 21st … and on Friday, Saturday and Sundays, no less? What gives with these people? Don’t they ever party on weekends? Sadie Lou went to the door just as she had been trained whenever Mother Nature comes knocking.
    I walked over to let her out, but she wouldn’t budge. She just stood there looking at the birds that were trying to feed at the many stations the wife provided. She gawked at the squirrels having a field day as they freely romped across the deck. She eyed rabbits running here, there and everywhere - all around the backyard before scurrying into their holes or wherever rabbits scurry to.
    She even watched as two male blue jays were having a heated argument over territory, specifically the large evergreen tree that sits to the north on our neighbor’s property line. Earlier, two male cardinals had already fought over the other evergreen that separates our neighbor on the south. It was as though she wanted the door open just so she could be entertained by the wildlife frolicking about.
    Page 2 of 2 - “What’s with this hound?” I asked the wife.
    After all, she’s always had more luck with our dogs than I. I’ve often accused her of talking their language and not teaching it to me.
    “I think she knows the end is near and due by the end of the day, and wants to make her peace with her Maker … or whomever dogs make their peace with before heading for that great rainbow bridge in the sky,” I said.
    Peggy looked at me as if it was I who was lacking a few marbles short of a full sack. She walked over to the door and encouraged her. Nothing! Then she stepped out and Sadie Lou followed her.
    “You do as you wish,” I told the wife. “But I’m not leading the dog outside just to show her where to answer Mother Nature’s call. She already knows. The next thing you know, she’ll be wanting me to hold her paw!”
    Peggy has always had a soft spot in her heart for animals. I have, too, but I’ve always been more practical about it.
    “I’m a septuagenarian, Honey,” I said, “and I have no plans on spending the remainder of my golden years as a doorman for the hound.”
    Later, Sadie Lou did a reverse. Peggy opened the door and she went crazy chasing wildlife all over the yard. I looked at my watch and realized it was midnight. The doomsday hour had come and gone and we were still here.
    “She knew,” I said to the wife. “Sadie Lou knew all along! Now we can safely wish everyone a Happy New Year!”
    Comments may be emailed to: Frankweaverjr@aol.com