the wiener hound, curled his tail around his body until its tip touched his
nose. He sighed audibly. Chet had not, in the end, baked cookies for Dorothy,
Withersmiths first friend, nor had Chet rolled dough for homemade pies.
Rather, Withersmiths new friend had introduced nasty smelling things such
as shitake mushrooms and seaweed into the household. Even Nancy Lynn, their
young neighbor, had taken to holding her nose when visiting.
a fan and mounted it onto a kitchen wall so that stinks could blow from the
stove to the window. Meanwhile, Mr. Henry, the cat, who liked neither noise nor
pongs, remained scarce.
new spouse had called after the cat; come back! You may partake, with me,
of this vegan curry. You, who talk to birds and mice, specifically, and to
wildlife, more generally, ought to appreciate how I am transforming this home
into one that is yoked to nature.
doubted that Mr. Henry sought any equipage; the doxies buddy was already
sufficiently holistic. In fact, Mr. Henrys response to Chet
had been to show him his back end and then to jump out of the kitchen
Be that as it
may, a racket roused the little canine. The sausage dog opened one eye. From
the guestroom, Dorothy was repeating a mantra; WTO Settlement System, MFN
and regional trade arrangements, non-tariff measures, GATT Agreement, trade
The pup sighed,
ever grateful that the length of his external ears muffled many sounds. He
again closed his eye. When he later awoke, he heard nothing issuing from
heard Chet addressing Rudford, Dorothys dear hedgehog, our home
will flourish with gardens. All manner of creatures will consort with us.
People will esteem us. We will be wealthy in environmental
up into a ball. The albino furze pig had been seeking food, not
looked from Chet to Rudford and then back again. Theirs was a standoff.
he stretched and then jumped off of the sofa. The dog trotted into his
companions bedroom. There, he stuck his snout under the bed. In the past,
comparable explorations had yielded foodstuffs; he, too, was seeking
comestibles. That day, though, there were no forgotten biscuits or pretzel
pieces. The lone treasure that peeked out from among dust bunnies was a
Not much later,
Dorothy, who was canting a new set of words, too, arrived at the bedroom.
Before flinging herself, face down, on the bed, she exclaimed, terrorism,
torture, Afghanistan, Balkans, ethno-centric, skeptics and critics,
entrance interrupted her, ma Chérie, weve yet to grow our
personal food forest. Surely, you
Dorothy threw a
shoe at her groom and once more commenced crying. My finals were
postponed because of our nuptials. If I dont pass the rescheduled ones, I
cant enroll in the BPTC. Little you care.
I delight in you as much as I delight in words, and you, among all people, know
that I never tire of applying whimsy to pastures where gelatinous wildebeests
roam, or of applying solemnity to the soil where fey beings play. Whats
more, my rhetoric tilts at social ills and encourages personal evolutions. How
can I not care about you becoming a solicitor?
Chet shook his
head and then removed, from behind his back, the hand that he had held there.
Look, my Precious! He held out a marijuana plant by its
Aquino! bellowed Withersmiths primary attendant. I dont
care if your father was a spellbound prince and your mother was a
famous actress. It makes no difference to me that you divide your
time between translating scientific texts and writing poetry. I have no
investment, furthermore, in your vegan recipes and I never, ever, ever, want to
see that sort of leaf again in my home.
it! Youre part of the American boogaloo.
Mancunian? Youre a twit!
the bedroom door as he exited.
some more. She whimpered to herself, Mother said I ought not to have
night, Witherspoon watched Chet puff the ruffles on his shirt, adjust his
collar stays, and fiddle with an ascot. He also heard the man wonder, out loud,
whether he ought to be wearing an informal cravat or a more formal one to a
neighborhood bar-be-que. Dorothys family, and, perhaps, his beloved, too,
had long regarded him as hoi polloi. He knew he was not.
and Chet returned home, Chet was intoning a mantra in harmony with Dorothy,
war crimes, genocide, crimes against humanity, domestic adjudication,
international adjudication, crimes of aggression, international
was slurring a few words, interrupted, oh Chet, say domestic
adjudication again. Youre so sexy when
didnt hear the end of that sentence as Chet pulled Dorothy onto the sofa
and mashed his face into hers. The dachshund wagged his tail - his humans were
in a good mood. He waited next to the sofa for an offer of cake or cookies.
Nothing was forthcoming.
The dog waited
for a very long time. It was not until something crashed in the kitchen that
his humans got off of the sofa.
Mr. Henry, who
had jumped back into their home through the kitchen window, had, bewilderingly,
missteped and had tripped on Rudford. The prickly albino had been sniffing
around the kitchens baseboard for pieces of treats gone
Chet scooped up
the shaken hedgehog, life is precious. Creativity needs to reflect this
verity. There exist a multitude of means by which we can evidence these values.
As long as we remain curious about goings-on, we remain vital. The man
then reached for the cookie jar, which sat on the counter under a secure lid,
and gave the hedgie a bit of a biscuit
After her tiny
friend had finished chewing, Dorothy took Rudford and gently placed him in his
box. She then took Chets hand and tenderly pulled him toward their
bedroom. Thereafter, she yet again opened their bedroom door to scoot out
badger hunter trotted into the kitchen. Mr. Henry was eating from his bowl!
Deprived of dog chow, Withersmith trotted, as fast as his short legs could
carry him, back to the bedroom door. Alas, that door remained