tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19502806952386922.post2572703300666821147..comments2023-11-02T06:28:20.524-07:00Comments on Dog's Plot: Dogless Days and Cupola NightsDogs Plothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12707011546747641905noreply@blogger.comBlogger4125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19502806952386922.post-42303397579122598412009-09-12T17:55:29.691-07:002009-09-12T17:55:29.691-07:00So would I have brooded those eggs. It's a gi...So would I have brooded those eggs. It's a girl thing even for cats, you know. I'm not sure it's a great idea for Garlic to be wandering around down here, but if she's going to she's gonna miss the stars she's used to, too many lights. We've got two roofs, a low one over the bakery for White Star, which used to be called Green Star and once upon a time even Someareharder, is how I heard it said. The low roof belongs to the lady who has her windows on it and she's a lady lawyer so I wouldn't mess with her, plus she's got two dogs the size of one but still against the rules. The top roof is where you'd be closest and you can't get to that 'cept through the Boss's study. In other words, you have to go when he's up at his lake cottage and you have to have a key. I've got the key to all the keys here, and I'm just biding my time to see the stars here. But if Garlic were to wander in, I might push the schedule up a bit. Thanks for your advice about star gazing in town. It sounds better than your advice on feeding chickens and not very different from looking at the solar eclipse some years back on St. John. I was "bahn theah," as folk says where I come from. I was named Sally when Elizabeth Reed took me home from the Animal Shelter and she gave me the last name of the island but I think using her name next to mine and skipping this paternalistic bullshit about carrying on the family name is preferable. I'm gonna talk with your girl Garlic about names, you can bet on that. And maybe I'll even tell her what I was named before the Shelter lady came up with Sally, or maybe I won't. Elizabeth Reed didn't want to know and so didn't ask, but I've got some stories to tell too. Just like you two-legged writer types.SallyElizabethhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/02948062734895676335noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19502806952386922.post-41057643135624038792009-09-10T18:05:12.868-07:002009-09-10T18:05:12.868-07:00Sylvia would have brooded chicksSylvia would have brooded chicksDogs Plothttps://www.blogger.com/profile/12707011546747641905noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19502806952386922.post-4808486617155381132009-09-10T18:01:54.928-07:002009-09-10T18:01:54.928-07:00Davey's family has been making him work lately...Davey's family has been making him work lately, so he is starting to straighten p a bit.<br /> Have yo never star-watched from the roof of yor own building?...one of Tiny Town's tiny, secret wildernesses. Back when the Somewhathard Bakery was downstairs, I use to keep chickens p n that roof. Only three hens. I fed them stale granola from the bakery and gave them packing boxes to nest in, bt they ranged free up there.<br /> Not a bad styar-gazing platform, but, to overcome the city lights there, o have to tape together a couple of cardboard tubes from paper towels, and look throg them. Or through a megaphone, whichgives yo a biger vista and more chance of atching the action.<br /> I gave the hens a kitty which they took to right away, and she grew up sleeping in the nesting boxes, bt never ate an egg unless somebody had already broken it. She ws the only cat I ever know that ctually sayt on eggs, and she probably would have rodd chicks. She was black and white like that cat that showed up around here again yesterday (Nick the rooster hooted it away) and like the cartoon cat Sylvester, which is what I called her until she got pregnant. I have no idea how Sylvia managed to get pregnant, but with kitties on the way, we all had to move.Dogs Plothttps://www.blogger.com/profile/12707011546747641905noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19502806952386922.post-76266691142241560492009-09-10T11:45:12.131-07:002009-09-10T11:45:12.131-07:00There's a lot goin' on up there, William B...There's a lot goin' on up there, William B. Warren, and most of it not so good for Brother Davey, who did look like he'd been struck by lightnin' last time I stopped by and that was just after one death and one imprisonment. Guess I knew his childhood ex-wife but can't really picture her anymore, and why would she be murdered? Davey was really lookin' forward to that reunion with the old fraternity boys, and now one of 'em is gone. Ya know, there were 10 people at a dinner for my 50th birthday and 3 of them are gone. The last two in the last two months, and one, the once great love of my life and the reason that Elizabeth Reed is writing about Death, even though she says it's a professional obligation. Hey, let me know when there's room in the cupola to look at those stars. I can see stars and take care of that B&W cat at the same time. Haven't seen those stars in 25 years, since we used to camp at Long Point. The stars over St. John are a different hemisphere, almost literally. Orion lies down on his side down there.SallyElizabethhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/02948062734895676335noreply@blogger.com