In Her Pocket

This is Sheriff Peanut Butter Brickle. Well, Utah, you probably already know that you are on the verge of getting arrested from yesterday’s antics. Rain. Then snow. Snow. We are from that Florida place. Do you think we love snow? No.

Now, sometimes, you put up with certain things when someone is really good looking. You know, like me. And Utah, you are certainly good looking as well. Which is the only reason I have not arrested you as of yet. You bring out my brindle beauty and coat of many colors. And so I am giving you a few more days to make it up to us.

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If you wanted to make it up to us, you started off on the right track by allowing us to drive thru another one of your National Parks called Arches National Park.

Again, your beauty was making me look even better.  But then you started raining.  And raining some more.  And we were cold.  Real cold.  And tired.  But I couldn’t go to sleep because there was too much to look at.  I know that is how everyone feels about me too.  Point taken.

But after our long day of driving thru snow and rain, it was time for dinner and a walk.  Girl Person made our chicken and green bean dinner which I thought was pretty brave on her part again, and then it was time to take a walk next to the Green River.  Which again made me think of grean beans.  Oh, Digby.

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As she reached in her pocket for some dog bags, she remembered that she had left some dog treats in her pocket.  And then, all of a sudden, she started crying.  And I was utterly confused as to why dog treats could make someone cry.  Bad dog treats, yes.  But good ones?  What was the problem?

Girl Person explained to me that in her pocket were memories.  She explained to me that her Pappy used to carry dog treats in his pocket. All. The. Time.  And he used to sing to her a song, which she remembered all of a sudden standing at the Green River in Utah.  And that was far from her memories back home.

Girl Person told me that for years, no one could figure out why so many dogs loved him and ran up to him for no reason.  Oh, but there was a reason. Dog treats. In his pocket. She said that sometimes memories can come out of nowhere and make you remember things that you try to push back.  And something as small as dog treats in her pocket made her feel too much.  Made her realize that the further away she gets from home, it just doesn’t matter.  Memories go with you wherever you are.  Miles don’t matter.  And even though her Pappy hasn’t been here for years, even before she lost Granny Person, it is like he is still with her. Even at the Green River in Utah.

Now, one thing I will say about dogs is that we like to live in the moment.  It is not often that we remember the bad things, especially if there is so much good happening now.  And that is what I want Girl Person to know. Dog treats in her pocket are good.  Very good.  They make her remember her Pappy who she loved.  They make dogs happy. And my suggestion is that she always have some in her pocket.  Memories go with you everywhere.  And the good ones…are well….good.  And instead of remembering what you may have lost, just for right now, remember what you had.  And carry it with you.  Don’t try and forget them. Also, make sure Digby doesn’t know what you have in your pocket. He will never leave you alone.

Today, we are headed towards Salt Lake City, Utah, so back on the road again.  Are you coming?  We have plenty of treats in our pockets!

Two drifters, off to see the world
There’s such a lot of world to see
We’re after the same rainbow’s end, waitin’ ’round the bend
My huckleberry friend, moon river, and me

-Sheriff Peanut Butter Brickle

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Don’t Feed The Gators. Seriously.

This is Sheriff Peanut Butter Brickle reporting to you from this Louisiana place.  You know, sometimes my job is overwhelming.  Sometimes my job is hard.  Sometimes, my job requires much thinking, planning and delegation to the Deputy.  Sometimes, he is no help.  Actually, always. He is always no help.

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I decided yesterday that I was sick and tired, and tired and sick from looking for that shoe that Girl Person lost in the Florida place.  I pretty much figured, and wrote in my report that the shoe was ultimately and probably stolen first of all by a raccoon who had a hankering for stinky hiking shoes.  However, he was hired by the camper person with the white pants and white trailer and white car with swept leaves who knew he was a shoe thief in order to make us mad since he didn’t like dogs.  That is what my preliminary report stated.  I held off on releasing my synopsis until this Louisiana place because if it turned up, I didn’t want to be wrong.  I am never wrong. So I gave it one last shot yesterday before I closed the book on it in Louisiana.  I was tired of reading this book in my mind.

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Wednesdays are usually the day we visit with each rescue we go to in each state.  So we had a big turnout from our visit with the Magnolia Chapter Of The Humane Society of Louisiana.  They brought some dogs and many, many people. Each one was a suspect in my eyes.  Did they know where Girl Person’s shoe was?  Seems as though they had a lot of beads on that were purple.  The same color as Girl Person’s stolen shoe.  Did they like purple?  So much so that they conspired with the Florida place criminals before we got here and had a handoff in the Georgia place, then Mississippi place and then..gasp, this Louisiana place?  It was all making sense to me all of a sudden. I started looking at everyone’s shoes very closely. Did they all match?

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I tried to get the Deputy’s attention, because there were too many shoes to examine, but he was too busy being tricked by the suspects.  They were trying to play with him, with all their beads on and diverting his attention.  They were pawtying it up. This Louisiana place is obsessed with having a good time, but when you are all bizzzneeessss, it is quite irritating.

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My Sheriff brain was now working overtime.  How did this all slip by me?  How had all of these states tricked me?  I am so done with looking at Girl Person’s water shoes that she tries to pass off as hiking shoes because she has no time to go buy some, and Boy Person brought them home from the drugstore which apparently sells shoes and that in itself is arrest warranting.  Why would he buy her water shoes? Sometimes, she goes in the water on purpose to pretend they somehow serve a purpose. I am sorry to say this out loud.  But sometimes, she acts like a fool.

Anyway, I have not went off track, because I never do that, but I will get back to my point.  After looking at all the shoes, the beads, the suspects on our rescue visit, something happened.  And the criminal of all criminals in Louisiana showed up.

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The rescue volunteers stopped to show us this criminal in the water.

Oh yes, I saw the signs everywhere.  “Don’t feed the gators”.  That is actually when I realized that my report was going to be concluded.

These rescue partiers knew it.  Everyone knew it.  Gators cannot be fed in Louisiana, so they must find their food elsewhere, even if that means hiring a raccoon in the Florida place to steal a shoe, deliver it to a clean camper, make a handoff to the gopher turtles in Georgia who deliver it to the people in Mississippi trying to forget that their state’s name is annoying, and then make a final delivery to the gators in Louisiana.  This happens every day my friends.  It is mind boggling I know, but these criminals, the gators have a huge crime ring going on.  And they thought no one could ever figure it out.  But I tell you what.  I am a Sheriff first.  And a catahoula rescue mutt second.  Catahoula you say?  The state dog of Louisiana you say?

 

These alligator criminals had no idea that a Sheriff who was the state dog of Louisiana would be coming here.  Oh, but I did.  And I am shocked at the amount of effort it took to eat Girl Person’s shoe.  It must have been a pretty good shoe, but I am a pretty good catahoula Sheriff.  Louisiana?  I must say this to you.  As I do not know which gator ate my shoe, and since all you partiers tried to distract us with purple beads, and since you distracted my Deputy…this is long and coming.  You. Are. Arrested.

What can get you a lighter sentence? I think that is pretty obvious. As obvious as Digby’s bad breath and as obvious as a pair of unattractive water shoes on an uncoordinated Girl Person.  I don’t want the shoe back, I realize that is now gone in a gator’s stomach.  But come on.  She wears a size 8.

CASE. CLOSED.

-Sheriff Peanut Butter Brickle

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