This is Deputy Digby Pancake. If I could end this week with a summary of it, which I guess I actually am, I would say that it was a mixture of soggy pancakes, sugary sweet maple syrup on top to make it more soggy, and then eating it anyway because you never turn down a pancake. Yes, the rain put a damper on things. But just like you don’t turn down a soggy pancake, you don’t turn down any day. Rain or no rain.
But when Gandma and Gandpa came to visit, they seemed to bring the sunshiney right with them.
For now….I hear more rain is on the way they say in this Florida place. And once again, I don’t know who “they” are that are always saying stuff, but I with they would not.
When things in your day don’t go your way, and you look deep within yourself past your always growling tummy, you sometimes find a superstar in there. I did. It was someone that I didn’t even know was in there. I realized it this week. Self? You are a dern superstar.
I don’t have to work at being happy. Because I am happy. But for others, even Sheriff Brickle, well, he has to work at it. But I realized. I can make him happy by being happy. I could make the persons happy by being happy. Because who could resist a dog smile, even in the rain? Superstar.
But I found out that I wasn’t the only superstar around here this week. Sheriff Brickle was sick, but then, he decided that he didn’t want to miss out on any more walks. He didn’t want to miss out on his chances of getting free dog biscuits from the campground host. And so, he looked inside himself, channeled into his handsome, and pushed himself past his depression and nervousness of the rain and storms. We got in a ferry, made our way to see Gandma and Gandpa, and then! The sunshiny came out! Brickle knew it. He was a superstar!
Now, you may know that Brickle has always considered himself a superstar. Shocker, shocker. But he found even more of one this week. Despite all of the rain and the heat and the persons being stressed out too, he found that he was stronger than what he thought. And with all of this positivity and superstars around me, I decided that as long as everyone was a star, and being strong and and signing autographs and stuff, but not really, well, I decided I had one more thing to accomplish. And I saw it. A sausage in the seaweed on the beach.
Now, you may wonder. Why would a sausage be in the seaweed? My first thought was why not? I smelled it. An uncooked, perfectly formed in the casing, Italian sausage.
Now, why someone would throw a sausage in the seaweed that they could have cooked up on the grill, I don’t know, but I actually didn’t care. I did care to try and swallow it whole before Girl Person could pull it out of my mouth. And I did just that. My superstar inside had been replaced with sausage. But it didn’t want to stay there long.
Girl Person has come to realize that with me and the Sheriff, she can’t get mad at a lot of things, because those “a lot of things” happen a lot. And so she told me that she wished I would not have done that, but said that she was going to watch me if I got sick. And as we continued to walk along the beach, we saw a sandbar, Sheriff Brickle found his superstar again, went crazy, pulled us in a very deep trench, we all fell in, and then, the sausage in my stomach fell out. Of my mouth. My superstar was there again.
When you are sitting in the water covered in sausage throwup, sometimes, you start laughing like a crazy person. At least that is what happened to Girl Person. She thought, well, as long as everyone was a superstar around here, she would try and win an academy award. And if I would have had an award in the ocean with sausage throw up, I would have cleaned it off and presented it to her for the best. Laugh. Ever.
it was at that exact moment that all of the week’s anxieties and trials collided with sausage in the ocean to make us realize that we all needed each other, even more than we ever thought. But I also needed some fried chicken too.
As we walked back to camp…all wet…with the past remnants of laughing and raw sausage, I saw it. A bucket of fried chicken. In the road. Smashed. Fried. Chicken. Y’all.
As you can imagine, Girl Person was not having it, but I was, I snagged one, gulped it down whole, and while she was trying to pry it out of my mouth, the Sheriff grabbed his too like a perfectly baked peanut butter cookie. It was then that the campground host pulled up in her golf cart with a pocket of biscuits. Girl Person could only stand there and look around and wonder. If this was what being a superstar was all about, she would take it. Because life should be lived…even through raw sausage, rain, smashed fried chicken and cheap dog biscuits. That’s show business. I will always guarantee a show.
So today..try and reach down…deep inside…and ask yourself. “Why am I a superstar?”. What did I do this week that no one else could have? What did I do to make myself proud? You’re a superstar. Yes, that’s what you are. You know it.
-Deputy Digby Pancake