I am operating a barbecue grill. I’m making burgers and it’s not easy because I have a wild puppy named Thelma Lou who cannot sit still.
She is ten weeks old. Her paws are bigger than her head, her ears drag on the ground. She pees whenever the spirit moves.
And right now, she is chasing a neighborhood kid named Tyler, who is babysitting her. I’ve paid Tyler ten dollars to entertain her.
And he’s entertaining, all right. She is a speeding black-and-tan blur, only visible by high-tech slow-motion cameras. And she’s his problem right now.
I gave Tyler simple instructions:
“Make sure she goes pee pee,” I said.
This is of congressional importance because Thelma Lou has been known to get so excited she pees on me for kicks.
Anyway, I am sporting an apron my wife bought me. On the front it reads: “I like pig butts and I cannot lie.”
I’m no grill master, but I make okay hamburgers. It took me
a whole year to perfect my recipe. It’s not complicated, but it takes concentration. And you can’t concentrate while babysitting a puppy.
Believe me, I tried this a few days ago. I ended up chasing the black-and-tan streak across the Southeast United States. I ran with a spatula held above my head, hollering: “Quit that!” And: “Stop chewing my wallet!” And: “Get away from that dead possum!”
But you can’t control Thelma. She enjoys chewing more than she enjoys peeing. In fact, chewing is her God-given talent you could say.
If, for instance, I were to enter Thelma in one of those TV-show talent contests, Thelma would win.
“... And thanks for watching America’s Most Talented Pets, folks. Our next contestant is Thelma Lou. Thelma will disassemble a Stradivarius cello using only her teeth, then urinate on its remains while howling ‘Moon River’ in…