This is Deputy Digby Pancake. Well now. If your name is Jack, I implore you to listen up. If your name isn’t Jack, I also ask you to listen. Because someone around here needs to take some responsibility for their actions and help us out. We are in the middle of the desert for pancakes sake!
Our day started off windy. And when I say windy, I mean wind so hard that it blows your butt to New Mexico by itself. I guess that is why the roadrunners there are so fast.
Did you ever have one of those days when everything seemed to go not as planned? Well, that seems to be everyday for us in fact. But you kinda get used to it when you are on the road. The unexpected is expected. So much so, that we don’t know what to expect.
The persons started off their day Wednesday at the state park there in Texas. They had not been able to swim yet with the weather, but decided that since they would probably never be there again, they must do it. The wind was only about 40 mph at this point, and pretty cold. But Girl Person said that she would never forgive herself if she didn’t swim. Twenty five foot deep water? Fish nipping at her toes? Nah…she could handle it. She put on her bathing suit which is so big on her at this point that it falls off, but who would see her? No one else was crazy enough to be out there. Oh. Except Boy Person who cannot swim. You heard me. He cannot swim. But since he had a snorkel and flippers, he figured it would make him look like he could swim in 25 foot deep water to no one that was there. But when he saw Girl Person jump in and tell him that she was going to have a heart attack because she was so cold, he promptly decided that it was just too dangerous to swim. Yeah. Ok. I am a dog, and even I know an excuse when I hear one.
After they got their person antics out of the way, it was time to hit the road to the New Mexico place. But alas, the Big Blue Treat Wagon let them know that they didn’t know jack. Apparently, there is a Jack in this RV that doesn’t want to work and earn his keep. Girl Person tried to explain to me that there are jacks underneath the RV that come up and down to make it level so that we can balance up in here. I have no idea about that, but whoever Jack is was not working. Not at all. So out the door we went again to lay in the sunshiney while the persons tried to talk Jack into working. I was kinda liking Jack at this point so that I could go outside again.
If you don’t know Boy Person very well, you may be unaware that he can fix just about anything except when Girl Person is mad at him. He figured out that a computer thing that talked Jack into going up and down was broke. So he got out his tweezers and started putting wires together. And it took a very. Long. Time. So long that Sheriff Brickle forgot who to arrest. Well, after about an hour, we were on the road. Again. And Jack apparently was real mad about it. You don’t know JACK, Jack!
We were then on our way to the New Mexico place with a Jack mad about working. We knew he probably would also decide that once we got to New Mexico he would not punch in a time clock there either. And by the time we got to camp, about four hours later, you guessed it. He decided that he had already worked enough overtime. And he started his antics again. He was not coming down. And that’s when I figured out who he really was. I saw him in the desert. I saw him. The cause of all of our problems. Mr. Jack. Rabbit. Jackrabbit.
You would think that a rabbit who could go as fast as 45 mph would not mind working a little to make this RV level. You would think that a rabbit named Jack would understand that instead of hopping up to 19 feet in the air that it would be easier just to put the RV on a level ground. But no, he had other plans. To hop away in the desert. And there was no way to catch him with a belly full of pancakes.
So again. We sat there and waiting on our Boy Person who can’t swim, but who can wire things back together and talk Jack into working one more day. We got settled hours later as I watched Jack frolic in the desert, laughing at us for making our dinners late. And I decided right then and there that anyone named Jack was on my arrest list for the week. There is no way for me to know with all of those Jacks hopping around in the desert who is responsible for our mishaps. So. Whether your name is Jack or not Jack, you are all on Sheriff Brickle’s list and you guessed it. Mine too. New Mexico place? You have a jumpin Jack Flash. And it’s not alright. Gas? There is alot of gas in here. Sorry about that.
This may be an interesting week here in this New Mexico place. But we wouldn’t have it any other way. We are trying to make our way to Santa Fe…and it is still a far drive. So stick with us. We may have to hop there.
-Deputy Digby Pancake
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