Saturday, July 13, 2013

The following was in my draft blog files.  I have no idea what it is or where it was going.


It happened at the AUdobon birdwatching society. We go every Satruday. Misha and I had for some kind of some kind of bird meeting. I - I don't know what happened, exactly. It was all so sudden! A flurry of black and white, some strange, sort of squawking sound . . and he was gone.

That was three days ago. I - I haven't seen him since

"All right miss, well who is he

the emperor - Emperor Misha. My dog!

"Your dog?" So it had come to this . . . 15 years pounding the mean streets as a meaner Private Eye. Before that, 10 years on the force of a ratty police force in the backwoods - 5 years as a process server and 6 weeks taking Private Investigation Correspondece courses - only to play dog-catcher for pampered women.

"I'm sorry, Miss. Maybe you'd better try the SPCA."

"I - I can't go to the SPCA. There are reasons, I can't explain now. O please Mr. Sullen! You're my only hope! I'll pay you $5,000 if you can bring my dog back, safe and alive."

That was a lot of money to a man in my position. Suddenly this dog-catching business didn't sound so bad. "$5,000, eh? How much if I bring him back dead?"

It was the wrong thing to say. She quivered, paled, and stood up. I watched $5,000 walk away like a well-oiled machine.

Spike came over to settle the bill. "Got quite a way with women, don't ya?"

Well!  Here we are, in our new dictatorship.  Everybody like their tyranny?  Happy with The Won?  Down with the NSA?  Cheerleaders for the TSA?  We're all good, now, right?