Why did the chicken cross the road? It's an age-old question, and everyone thinks they know the answer. To get to the other side, right? But why does the chicken want to get to the other side? That is the true question.
Fortunately, I, Crash Test Dummy, was in the right place at the right time this morning to unravel the mystery. The answer, my friend, is no longer blowing in the wind.
There is a bunny on the other side of the road.
Of course! Duh! Why didn't anyone ever think of that?
See for yourself.
My son captured this image on the way to school with the point and shoot camera I started keeping in my purse after a recliner chair, full of children, rolled past me on a skateboard. I lie not, peeps. Truest story ever told. My kids can testify in a court of law, with their hands on the Holy Bible and everything. We were stopped at a light at the moment a young mother pushed a recliner chair skateboard across the street in front of us, and I'll never forgive myself for not having a camera to capture photographic evidence.
But I did capture this Chicken Little/Bunny Foo Foo reunion, through my son, and my dirty car window, going 15 mph.
Luckily the crossing guard wasn't wearing corky wedges, because she successfully navigated the chicken safely through all the morning traffic to get to the other side, where the cute little bunny, probably a friend from the Cartoon Network, was patiently waiting.
There's a moral to this story. There's a definite moral. You never what motivates chickens.
And you never know what's waiting for you on the other side of the road.
Okay, okay, here's another riddle for you:
What adds years to your life, but takes hours from your days?
That's right! A new puppy!
Would you believe that one day I actually sat and watched Lulu chew on a bone for over an hour? Cutest darn thing I ever did see.
(BTW, have I told you lately that I lub my magic puppy sooooo dang much!)
Well, technically she's not magic yet. She's still in training, so to speak--kinda like Harry Potter. If I were writing a Rick Riordan novel about k-9's, I would say she's a Demi-dog. (hee hee hee) (Get it? Demi-DOG?)
(Sometimes I crack myself up).
But anyways, my point is that raising a magic puppy takes a lot of time out of each day. It's much like raising a magic hub. There's a lot of lovin' and fussin' and goo goo ga ga-in', but there's also a lot of work because if you don't supervise them closely from the very beginning they might develop bad habits down the road--behavior problems, as the Dog Whisperer would say. He says you must communicate with calm, assertive energy so your dog/hub knows who's boss. He also says you should never yell at your dog/hub when he does something frustrating. Instead use a sound like "tsssst" to communicate your disapproval.
If that doesn't work, make your hand into a jaw claw, grab him behind the neck and take him down into submission.
We've owned our Demi-dog for almost two weeks now and we've spent countless hours training and teaching and tssssting her. She now knows where to go shi shi and doo doo, and how to fetch, and how to walk beside us on her leash. She also knows how to shake and give high five and do the shaka.
You wanna see Lulu doing the shaka?
But seriously, she lubs to hang loose. Especially on her beach towel.
Magic puppies in training need a lot of down time.
(They also need a lot of up time.)
Since I'm already boasting, can I just tell you that when Lulu greets us, she gets so excited, but instead of jumping up on us, she stops, drops and rolls over. Then she wags her tail and wriggles around until we rub her belly.
Cutest thing ever!
She's not without her vices, however. As Shakespeare says, "Roses have thorns and silver fountains mud." And Lulu has a wicked Kleenex fetish.
And not only does she speak the primary lub language,"Words of Mastication," she speaks it fluently. And with vigor.
I just can't tolerate that kind of language in my house.
My mom says that when a puppy starts chewing on something, it's a good idea to make a loud noise to let her know that's not acceptable. So yesterday Lulu was unraveling the carpet at the bottom of the stairs with great gusto when I picked up my soup pot, with it's accompanying metal lid, and pretended they were symbols.
Oh my goodness, oh my goodness! She hasn't chewed the carpet since. In fact, if she starts chewing anything too enthusiastically alls I have to do is act as if I'm going to pick up that pot and she freezes in mid-air.
Do you think my soup pot could be magic too!
Now Lulu just nibbles. Here she is nibbling on my new summer toes that my mom gave me for my birthday.