W - Western - #AtoZChallenge

 The trip home was always Bully's favorite part of each year. After a nearly 700-mile, two-month long drive getting his cattle to market, he could now relax and enjoy the beauty of this land he crossed every spring.

Every year, he paid the men who helped him get the cattle from Texas to Kansas (where they were worth five to eight times the Texas price) and released them to go find work elsewhere. He would make the long trip back home alone. He could make it back in a couple of weeks when he didn't have over 2,000 head of cattle to worry about and men to keep in line.

The obstacles he encountered on the way north to Kansas were barely an inconvenience when tackled alone on the way back. The Native Americans didn't even charge him to cross their land when he wasn't coming through with a large crowd disrupting their planting seasons.

Bully spotted a tree with a wide spread of branches right next to a creek. He didn't usually like camping out so close to creeks. Nocturnal animals coming out to drink would sometimes get too close when he was sleeping. However, there was no shortage of wood for a fire here. Keeping a good flame going throughout the night generally kept them away.

He set up his simple camp and fried some skillet camp bread to go with his dried beef. He prepped his coffee for brewing in the morning and gathered some more wood to keep the fire going all night.

Once satisfied, he laid back on his pack against the tree and listened to the evening sounds of Oklahoma as he drifted off to sleep. He loved this time of year.

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All this month, I am participating in the A to Z Challenge. A new post will go up every day (except Sundays) using a letter of the alphabet as the starting off point. My theme for the month is literary genres. I am writing in a different genre of flash fiction each day. Today's letter is W for Western.

I Want It Now!

I think I'm ready to get a dog.

No. I know I'm ready. I've wanted a dog for the last year, but I just haven't gotten one yet. I've been concerned about the commitment of having a pet. So, I have stalled.

However, I have been coming more to the realization that my wife and I are home most of the time. This is the thing I have been most concerned about. What do you do with your dog when you leave the house? I don't just mean for the day, but weekend excursions or even longer trips. I never want to be one of those people who burden others with having to take care of their animals while we are jet-setting around having fun.

As I have been mulling these thoughts over, something happened.

We got new neighbors. And they have a puppy.

The other day I got caught sticking my fingers through their front gate to play with the puppy. I told the owner how much I had been thinking about getting one. He said that I could borrow his any time I wanted. So, I took it home for the morning.

This is Miss Magoo and she lives across the street. And now after a morning of playing with her, I need my own TODAY.

I'm in Vietnam and am still learning how things work, so I need to find the local vet and get some other doggy-care questions answered but it is happening. If my wife and I ever take a longer trip, we will just have to figure it out.

I already love my new doggy.

Go Back Where You Came From

My parents moved to Florida several years ago to satisfy American retirement law.

There are some things to be expected from living in Florida. It is incredibly humid. The rural areas are crawling with mosquitoes and meth-heads. Occasionally, you lose a dog to a hungry alligator.

However, one thing they did not anticipate was the presence of huge freaking snakes.

The Burmese python is one of the five largest species of snakes in the entire world. They are indigenous to Southeast Asia, but somehow they are now breeding like rabbits in the Everglades. Which is ironic since these snakes basically decimated the marsh rabbit population of the area.

They have no natural predators. They can eat basically anything and they multiply pretty quickly while having a 20+ year life span. Plus, they are not easy to locate or track. These snakes are wreaking havoc in the area and there doesn't seem to be a solution in sight.

Plants and animals being introduced to parts of the world where they are not from often causes issues. Sometimes major issues. The Midwest waterways are being destroyed by the Asian carp which showed up a few decades ago. They are voracious eaters who reproduce quickly and have no natural predators in the area. They are choking out many of the local species and actually changing the condition of the water making it unlivable for many other species. This is just one of many examples of how placing living things where they don't belong is never a good idea. Much like how Maroon 5 should have never played the Super Bowl halftime show. Who thought that would be a good idea?

The cane toad was brought intentionally from Central America to Australia to help curb the crop pest population and it was great at keeping bug populations down. However, it also oozes a toxin from its skin. The predators in Central America were immune to this toxin, but the animals in the new habitat of Australia were not. Now there's poison frog goo all over the ground killing the local plants and animals.  And, in my opinion, poison goo is one of the worst kinds of goo.

There are tons of stories of invasive species ruining ecosystems all over the world. In fact, stepping outside your home is a virtual nightmare of foreign monsters everywhere. However, there is one invasive species that seems much more out of place than any of the others.

When the drug kingpin Pablo Escobar was shot dead in 1993, the Colombian government took control of his estate which included a large number of animals from all around the world. They captured and relocated all the animals. Some back to their native lands and some were placed in zoos and animal sanctuaries. However, there were four hippos that were left behind in a pond to fend for themselves. Click here for the story.

Since then, these Columbian cartel hippos have escaped that pond and gotten into the local river and started multiplying. There are now several dozen members to this hippo harem and the local authorities have no idea what to do about it.

I propose a solution. All the hippos should be given full scholarships to Florida State. I believe cocaine-fueled, sex-crazed hippos would fit right in with any of the fraternities there and they would become Florida's problem.

Now if we could just get Piers Morgan and Justin Beiber to go back to where they came from.

Fortune Cookie #13 - Making that Goat Money

This morning, I reached in my bag of collected fortune cookie fortunes to see what the day had in store for me and I got this.

You'll make foreign money in the year of Goat.

Now, a fortune telling you that you are going to make some money is always a good fortune. Who couldn't use a little more money?

However, my first thought about this took me right to my time spent teaching English in Beijing. Consistently, regardless of age, every student would get this question wrong.

What is this animal?

Every student I ever had would answer "sheep". ALWAYS. From grade one all the way through high school. They would tell me that was a sheep. 

I would correct them and show a picture of a sheep.

THIS completely different animal is a sheep.

The students never questioned me. They had the foresight to understand that the native English speaker in front of them is probably correct. However, the new knowledge rarely stuck with them. Inevitably, at some point, this would come around again and they would label a goat as a sheep.

Once, I heard a Chinese English teacher call a goat a sheep and I realized that the kids weren't mixing the animals up, this was what they had been taught. However, it was a pretty consistent mistake since I had encountered this phenomenon in several schools and even different cities. Why was this happening?

I eventually cracked it. The confusion can be tracked down to the way the Chinese language functions. Many of their words are two other words pushed together. In this instance:

See, the Chinese don't really have an original word for goat. They have the word (羊) Yáng for sheep. But for a goat, they take the already existing (羊) Yáng and add (山)Shān to the front. 山羊.

山  means mountain.

So, their language provides a word for sheep, but then the word for "goat" is literally "mountain sheep." This doesn't even account for all the little goats that are running around farms and have no association with mountains. I understand the confusion.

Due to all this confusion within the Chinese language, I turned to Google to investigate my fortune to ensure we were even talking about the correct animal.

It appears to me that even within Chinese culture,
they don't know what animal we are talking about.

 I also discovered that the Year of the Goat…Sheep…uh, Ram…whatever isn't coming around again until 2027. Eight years from now! What am I supposed to do until then?

I went back to look at the fortune.

Wait a minute!

Due to my international lifestyle, I already make foreign money. I spent the last two years in China and am now in Vietnam. My money comes from a few different countries. Given my current circumstances, the best the fortune is offering me is letting me know that I will still be employed in eight years.

Although, these fortunes were all collected by me when I still lived in the States. I just still have them. Had I read it at the time, it would have been letting me know that my income would not be US-based a decade down the road. This may be the first fortune cookie I've ever gotten that actually came true.

Making Friends With the Locals

I grew up out in the country. For the majority of my childhood, we couldn't even see another house from our yard. We were familiar with the wildlife of the area and lived among all kinds of creepy-crawlies. Mice, spiders, snakes, lightning bugs, are just part of life when you are surrounded by grass and trees. We even had raccoons, skunks, salamandars, deer, foxes, snakes and other animals we caught as pets.

Throughout most of my adult life, I have lived in town. There are critters in the cities also, but not nearly as many. Snakes just aren't as interested in concrete as they are dirt. Dirt is sexier.

Since leaving the States, I have only lived in big cities. I spent a year in San Juan, Puerto Rico (355,000). Almost two years in Beijing (28 million) in an apartment on the 11th floor and then three months in Da Nang, Vietnam (1,300,000). So, I've never really gotten familiar with the wildlife of anywhere but southern Illinois. But a couple of weeks ago, Red and I found the house we wanted and moved to Hoi An.

Now, Hoi An has 120,000 people. However, we do not live in town. We live way out on the edge and are surrounded by rice paddies. We love our big new house, but there is no urban wall of separation between us and nature anymore. Red learned pretty quickly that she was just going to have to come to terms with the ants. They are not going to go away. It doesn't matter how clean you keep your kitchen, they are still going to invite themsleves in. They're quite rude.

Next, are the geckos.

These cute little guys are everywhere. They range in size from one inch to almost eight inches. It is fun to watch them stalk their prey across the wall and then take out a moth or cockroach. Although, the bigger ones can be a little unnerving when they bark at you.

Next, we have a snake that lives in the small garden on our front porch.

He just skulks around the flowers looking for something to eat and doesn't really pay attention to us, but we have learned that he is venomous. His teeth are typically unsuccessful at penetrating human skin because they are designed for small prey, but it was good to know. The locals told me that venomous or not, we should leave snakes alone. Many Vietnamese believe that they are actually remnants of people's ancestors and it is very culturally disrespectful to bother the snakes.

 All those critters I can deal with. Here is the one that is taking some getting used to. This video is from my Facebook page.

  

This guy is huge. AND about 90 seconds later he was dead. I didn't want that thing clomping around at night keeping me up with his loud footsteps.

Since posting that video, I have been informed by many of the locals that you actually want those spiders in your house. Those are the "good spiders" my New Zealand friend told me. They hunt down and eat roaches, smaller spiders, and mosquitoes. So, we are changing our approach toward them.

  

We are trying to make peace and let them be. They could probably overpower us anyway.

Z - Zoo Fun

When my children were younger, (by younger I mean young enough that they still appreciated their father and hadn't learned how to talk back yet) we would take weekly road trips. I had a job where I worked long hours and didn't see the family much during the week, but I always had weekends off and we liked to spend it on the road. Every Saturday, we would load up the car, head to Huck's to grab some gas station road trip food (mini tacos, egg rolls, sodas, etc.) and hit the road.

Some days, we ended up in a state park. A few times we stumbled onto a small town festival. Other times, we would drive into a big city. Often, we didn't even have a destination in mind when we left the house. We would just pick a direction and start driving. I loved these trips.

One particular Saturday, we decided to head to the zoo. When it comes to zoo trips, we are really lucky. We live in southern Illinois and the St. Louis Zoo is less than 90 minutes away. This is the zoo I grew up going to and it spoiled me for other zoos. It is ranked as one of the best zoos in the entire country, so I always end up disappointed when I am visiting someone in another part of the country and we end up at a lesser zoo. Our zoo is awesome. Suck it, Cleveland.

I was particularly excited for this trip because my kids were at that magical age. Kirsten was two and Christian was six. They would think the animals were the coolest things in the world to get to see. Plus, it was springtime and we had been looking forward to getting out of the house after the long winter.

Once we got there, we headed to the exhibit I always insist that we visit first. THE PENGUINS! I love penguins. I always have. This practice of seeing the penguins as soon as we get there first started when I was a child and I still do it when I go back to visit. After I see the penguins, I don't care where we go. I am happy.

I couldn't wait to share these magnificent birds with the kids and hurried them into the penguin house. As soon as we got inside, I unstrapped Kirsten from her stroller, put her up on my shoulders and turned around to see this:

Chicka-Chicka-Wa-Waa

"OK, let's see what's happening on the other side of the enclosure."

We moved further down to get away from the happy couple and were met with another public penguin porn performance. However, this time it was more like a penguin orgy. There were at least half a dozen penguin couples getting an early jump on the day…and each other. As much as I love penguins, I decided that maybe we should come back later. I don't allow guests in my bedroom to watch without paying admission and since the St. Louis Zoo is free, this just didn't feel right. Plus, I had my kids with me.

We worked our way up the hill to Big Cat Country to take in the jungle cats. My kids lost interest in the leopard pretty quickly because it just sat there.  The panther couldn't be seen, but the tigers were much more playful.

In the very next enclosure, the lions were up to the same thing. My wife commented that the animals seem to be enjoying the springtime weather as much as we were.

About 20 minutes later, we learned that the monkey house was not the place to be right now either. I will spare you the pictures. They are much more graphic.

We left the zoo after being there less than two hours, but in that time we got to see elephants, buffalo, three different species of bear, antelopes and even snakes getting it on. We decided that in future years, we would wait until later in the season to visit the zoo.

Z is for Zoo Fun

As a participant in the A to Z Blogging Challenge, I will be making my way through the alphabet all month.

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When my children were younger, (by younger I mean young enough that they still appreciated their father and hadn't learned how to talk back yet) we would take weekly road trips. I had a job where I worked long hours and didn't see the family much during the week, but I always had weekends off and we liked to spend it on the road. Every Saturday, we would load up the car, head to Huck's to grab some gas station road trip food (mini tacos, egg rolls, sodas, etc.) and hit the road.

Some days, we ended up in a state park. A few times we stumbled onto a small town festival. Other times, we would drive into a big city. Often, we didn't even have a destination in mind when we left the house. We would just pick a direction and start driving. I loved these trips.

One particular Saturday, we decided to head to the zoo. When it comes to zoo trips, we were really lucky. We lived in southern Illinois at the time and the St. Louis Zoo was less than 90 minutes away. This is the zoo I grew up going to and it spoiled me for other zoos. It is ranked as one of the best zoos in the entire country, so I always end up disappointed when I am visiting someone in another part of the country and we end up at a lesser zoo. Our zoo was awesome. Suck it, Cleveland.

I was particularly excited for this trip because my kids were at that magical age. Kirsten was two and Christian was six. They would think the animals were the coolest things in the world to get to see. Plus, it was spring time and we had been looking forward to getting out of the house after the long winter.

Once we got there, we headed to the exhibit I always insist that we visit first. THE PENGUINS! I love penguins. I always have. This practice of seeing the penguins as soon as we get there first started when I was a child and I still do it when I go back to visit. After I see the penguins, I don't care where we go. I am happy.

I couldn't wait to share these magnificent birds with the kids and hurried them into the penguin house. As soon as we got inside, I unstrapped Kirsten from her stroller, put her up on my shoulders and turned around to see this:

Chicka-Chicka-Wa-Waa

"OK, let's see what's happening on the other side of the enclosure."

We moved further down to get away from the happy couple and were met with another public penguin porn performance. However, this time it was more like a penguin orgy. There were at least half a dozen penguin couples getting an early jump on the day…and each other. As much as I love penguins, I decided that maybe we should come back later. I don't allow guests in my bedroom to watch without paying admission and since the St. Louis Zoo is free, this just didn't feel right. Plus, I had my kids with me.

We worked our way up the hill to Big Cat Country to take in the jungle cats. My kids lost interest in the leopard pretty quickly because it just sat there.  The panther couldn't be seen, but the tigers were much more playful.

In the very next enclosure, the lions were up to the same thing. My wife commented that the animals seem to be enjoying the spring time weather as much as we were.

About 20 minutes later, we learned that the monkey house was not the place to be right now either. I will spare you the pictures. They are much more graphic.

We left the zoo after being there less than two hours, but in that time we got to see elephants, buffalo, three different species of bear, antelopes and even snakes getting it on. We decided that in future years, we would wait until later in the season to visit the zoo.

S is for Snoopy

As a participant in the A to Z Blogging Challenge, I will be making my way through the alphabet all month.

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We had lots of pets growing up, but the one that has always stood out above the others was a beagle-rat terrier mix named Snoopy. Snoopy was the runt of the litter from one of our neighbors' dogs. He never had any special training, but was the best dog we ever had.

Every young boy wants a dog that will play fetch. Snoopy played half a game of fetch. If one of us threw a stick, he would run after it and bring it back to set right at our feet. That's where the proper game of fetch ended. As soon as we would reach for it, he would grab it again and move it a few feet away, setting it down once again, just daring us to try for it. He would never let us have the stick again. The game continued until we got tired of chasing him.

During the winter months, he was allowed to stay in the house. However, like many animals, he wanted to eat food that was not for him. Cats will not gorge themselves the way that a dog will and often left food in their bowl. Obviously, Snoopy would get in trouble if he ate the cat's food, but it didn't keep him from trying.

Because the cat's food was on the hard floor of the kitchen, we could hear the dog when he walked across the floor. His nails would click on the linoleum. The living room was right next to the kitchen, so we would look in the kitchen when we heard his nails and would catch him headed toward their food. Soon, he figured out that it was the noise giving him away.

My mother walked into the kitchen once and caught Snoopy slowly walking across the floor, lifting each foot slowly and gently putting it back down. He lifted each foot extra high. It was the canine version of tip-toeing. We had to start putting the cat food up high enough that they could jump to it, but Snoopy could not reach it.

Evil Urban Empire

This is NOT the view from my house.

For a little over a month now, I've been living in the big city of Indianapolis. This is the biggest city (844,000) I have ever lived in. I was in San Juan, Puerto Rico for a year, but it only had 400,000.

There are some major differences between living in the country and living in a big city, but I'm proud to say I have always made the transition fairly well. It's true that I can't pee in my front yard anymore. In fact, I don't even have a front yard. Or a back yard for that matter. Also, as much as I don't like people, I have found it very easy to ignore the multitude of them I am surrounded by. Actually, this is easier to in the city than it was in the country.

Growing up, I really didn't give big city life much thought, but there was one thing I knew. All country people and small town folk know.

You just aren't as safe in the city.

Before leaving my hometown (pop. 400), the worst actual crime committed against me involved someone stealing my garbage and dumping it on the side of the road a mile away. I still don't know what that was about, but I cleaned it up while the police watched. I never found out who did it and the police didn't believe it wasn't me.

Years later, on my first trip to San Juan, I got mugged.

Now, I was in a bad neighborhood and we had been warned to stay indoors after dark, but Dave and I couldn't bear our first night in the Caribbean locked inside someone's house. We just wanted to take a walk. It didn't end well.

Years later, when I actually moved there, someone broke the window on my SUV and stole my wife's purse, which happened to have her wedding ring in it as well as all her identification. These things didn't happen back home in small-town Southern Illinois.

When I moved to Indianapolis, (less than 5 weeks ago) it took all of eight days for my apartment to be robbed. They didn't just rob me, they took something very personal. My pet.

That is a python named Dr. Finklerstein that

we have had for over three years.

When I first moved in, I was told the entire complex was getting new windows. Management would send me a note the day before so I could prep my apartment by moving everything away from the windows.  They didn't send me that note. I left my apartment one day to discover they were putting in windows downstairs. I asked if they were doing the upstairs as well and discovered that I needed to go move some of my things. I then left for the day.

Get in the POT!!!

When I came home, I had beautiful new windows, but later discovered that Dr. Finklerstein was not in his terrarium. I searched all through the house as Kirsten cried on the couch, "That dirty Mexican took him." 

I don't know how she became so racist.

"He took him home to eat him! Snake is a delicacy in Mexico, you know?"

Um...actually, I don't know if that's true.

I searched through all the dresser drawers, behind the shelves, in the boxes that were only half unpacked and as much behind the water heater as I could see. He was nowhere to be found. And my apartment isn't very big.

I finally relented and did what Kirsten was begging me to do. I called apartment management.

The immediate reaction of the woman on phone was of concern for a loose python in the building. I gently tried to reassure her that this was not the case. I've had this snake for three years and he has never gotten out of his enclosure. I told her that I didn't want to accuse anyone, but it seemed odd that he just happened to disappear on the day someone was in my apartment. I understood they couldn't really do anything about this, but I wanted to make a report in case others reported things missing. I also told her I would not be letting people in my apartment unsupervised anymore. Apartment employees included.

The snake has never escaped from his cage EVER. It's weird that the one time people are in our house the snake disappears...
— Kirstey Minor (@KirsteyKitten) December 27, 2013

While Kirsten was tweeting her rage, I continued looking. Every day for the next week, I expected to see him stick his head out from behind the water heater. I think I got obsessed with the water heater because it was a heat source. I just expected him to gravitate toward it. I finally gave up. Kirsten must be right. Someone fried him up into python nuggets. Or took him home to give to their kids like I did. We're a strange house.

Almost three weeks later, I discover him sleeping on a pile of clothes in a box I had yet to unpack.

I immediately call management to let them know the snake has been found. She responded, "Great. I'll let your neighbors know."

Wonderful. They notified all my neighbors.

At least we'll have something to talk about in the spring when I actually venture outside.

Black Death in the Golden State

In the 80's, we were constantly being bombarded with the dangers of AIDS. We were all going to die and not even the mosquitoes could be trusted. More recently, we've had scares from monkey pox, SARS, and the Asian bird flu.

I have never gotten too worked up about any of these, but something happened last week that caught my attention. According to CBS News, last week officials of Los Angeles County trapped a squirrel that was carrying the bubonic plague.

Let me say that again. A squirrel was trapped in the park that carried the bubonic plague. THE BUBONIC PLAGUE! Other wise known as the BLACK DEATH.

This is the same disease that wiped out a third of the European population in the late 1340's and half of the United Kingdom. Today's pansy diseases can't even begin to claim those kind of numbers.

After doing some research, I learned that the disease was never eradicated. It obviously still exists as evidenced by last week's squirrel discovery. In fact, this disease can kill a person within four days of contracting it, but with today's medicine, it is much more manageable. If gotten to early, antibiotic treatment takes care of it.

All this just makes me think I want to travel to L.A. and play with the squirrels. I don't enjoy being sick, but how many people can say they had the black plague. I could catch the disease, get a round of antibiotics and then go buy the T-shirt.

I SURVIVED
THE BLACK DEATH

I would wear it proudly every day. If anyone had the right to gripe about something, it would be the guy who survived the bubonic plague.

"Oh, you called in sick to work because you have the flu. Well, I had the plague."

"No, I don't want to hear about your difficult birth. Last year, I contracted the BUBONIC PLAGUE!"

"Wow. You want me to be impressed because you only missed a week's work when you had walking pneumonia. I had the freaking plague. The BLACK DEATH! Ever heard of it?"

It would give people an entirely different perspective on me. When someone came across something in the refrigerator that smelled a little funny, they would probably call me to check it out. They would say to one another, "Let Brett try it. He conquered the plague. A funny smell won't intimidate him."

If a rabid dog is reported running around the neighborhood, animal control would call me to go after it. When you think about it, how scary does rabies sound when you've already stared the most deadly disease in history right in the face and walked away from it?

My life would be totally changed. I would be a hero.

Although, I wonder if I could still give blood. The Red Cross asks a lot of questions, but I don't remember ever being asked, "Do you currently or have you ever had the Bubonic Plague? Have you ever been treated for the Black Death?"

I'll have to ask.

"Z" is for Zoo

When my children were younger, (by younger I mean young enough that they still appreciated their father and hadn't learned how to talk back yet) we would take weekly road trips. I had a job where I worked long hours and didn't see the family much during the week, but I always had weekends off and we liked to spend it on the road. Every Saturday, we would load up the car, head to Huck's to grab some gas station road trip food (mini tacos, egg rolls, sodas, etc.) and hit the road.

Some days, we ended up in a state park. A few times we stumbled onto a small town festival. Other times, we would drive into a big city. Often, we didn't even have a destination in mind when we left the house. We would just pick a direction and start driving. I loved these trips.

One particular Saturday, we decided to head to the zoo. When it comes to zoo trips, we are really lucky. We live in southern Illinois and the St. Louis Zoo is less than 90 minutes away. This is the zoo I grew up going to and it spoiled me for other zoos. It is ranked as one of the best zoos in the entire country, so I always end up disappointed when I am visiting someone in another part of the country and we end up at a lesser zoo. Our zoo is awesome. Suck it, Cleveland.

I was particularly excited for this trip because my kids were at that magical age. Kirsten was two and Christian was six. They would think the animals were the coolest things in the world to get to see. Plus, it was spring time and we had been looking forward to getting out of the house after the long winter.

Once we got there, we headed to the exhibit I always insist that we visit first. THE PENGUINS! I love penguins. I always have. This practice of seeing the penguins as soon as we get there first started when I was a child and I still do it when I go back to visit. After I see the penguins, I don't care where we go. I am happy.

I couldn't wait to share these magnificent birds with the kids and hurried them into the penguin house. As soon as we got inside, I unstrapped Kirsten from her stroller, put her up on my shoulders and turned around to see this:

Chicka-Chicka-Wa-Waa

"OK, let's see what's happening on the other side of the enclosure."

We moved further down to get away from the happy couple and were met with another public penguin porn performance. However, this time it was more like a penguin orgy. There were at least half a dozen penguin couples getting an early jump on the day…and each other. As much as I love penguins, I decided that maybe we should come back later. I don't allow guests in my bedroom to watch without paying admission and since the St. Louis Zoo is free, this just didn't feel right. Plus, I had my kids with me.

We worked our way up the hill to Big Cat Country to take in the jungle cats. My kids lost interest in the leopard pretty quickly because it just sat there.  The panther couldn't be seen, but the tigers were much more playful.

In the very next enclosure, the lions were up to the same thing. My wife commented that the animals seem to be enjoying the spring time weather as much as we were.

About 20 minutes later, we learned that the monkey house was not the place to be right now either. I will spare you the pictures. They are much more graphic.

We left the zoo after being there less than two hours, but in that time we got to see elephants, buffalo, three different species of bear, antelopes and even snakes getting it on. We decided that in future years, we would wait until later in the season to visit the zoo.

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Happily participating in the Blogging from A to Z Challenge. For the entire month of April, 1,656 bloggers are working their way through the alphabet. One letter every day but Sundays for a total of 26 days.

Click here to visit the website and get more information to see if you might want to join in next year. It's a lot of fun, introduces you to hundreds of new blogs and gives your writing some fantastic exposure.

YAY!!! I made it!!!

"S" is for Snoopy

We had lots of pets growing up, but the one that has always stood out above the others was a beagle-rat
terrier mix named Snoopy. Snoopy was the runt of the litter from one of our neighbors' dogs. He never had any special training, but was the best dog we ever had.

Every young boy wants a dog that will play fetch. Snoopy played half a game of fetch. If one of us threw a stick, he would run after it and bring it back to set right at our feet. That's where the proper game of fetch ended. As soon as we would reach for it, he would grab it again and move it a few feet away, setting it down once again, just daring us to try for it. He would never let us have the stick again. The game continued until we got tired of chasing him.

During the winter months, he was allowed to stay in the house. However, like many animals, he wanted to eat food that was not for him. Cats will not gourge themselves the way that a dog will and often left food in their bowl. Obviously, Snoopy would get in trouble if he ate the cat's food, but it didn't keep him from trying.

Because the cat's food was on the hard floor of the kitchen, we could hear the dog when he walked across the floor. His nails would click on the linoleum. The living room was right next to the kitchen, so we would look in the kitchen when we heard his nails and would catch him headed toward their food. Soon, he figured out that it was the noise giving him away.

My mother walked into the kitchen once and caught Snoopy slowly walking across the floor, lifting each foot slowly and gently putting it back down. He lifted each foot extra high. It was the canine version of tip-toeing. We had to start putting the cat food up high enough that they could jump to it, but Snoopy could not reach it.

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Happily participating in the Blogging from A to Z Challenge. For the entire month of April, 1,698 bloggers are working their way through the alphabet. One letter every day but Sundays for a total of 26 days.

Click here to visit the website and get more information to see if you might want to join in next year. It's a lot of fun, introduces you to hundreds of new blogs and gives your writing some fantastic exposure.

"B" is for Bird

About 2 years ago, when my pet tarantula died I wrote about some of the more unusual pets we have had…skunks, foxes, raccoons, salamanders and more. We almost had a flying squirrel when I was in junior high, but the owner backed out of giving it to us. I still have a python named Dr. Finklerstein and one day hope to have a monkey, although I haven't decided what kind yet. I don't think the poo-flinging kind would work well for me. Which ones fling poo?

Ideally, I would like a miniature buffalo, although I don't imagine that an animal with hooves would be very forgiving with my furniture. Maybe an elephant the size of a dachshund would be better, but not long like a dachshund. That would look ridiculous.

If hippos were the size of guinea pigs, I would have a whole flock of them. Flock? School? What do you call a group of miniature hippos?
— Brett Minor (@brettminor) March 4, 2013

We did have one hoofed animal for a pet. My brother Trevor came up on an object in the road one day that was moving. When he got out to investigate, he discovered that it was a baby deer. It appeared to still be wet from being born, but the mother could not be seen. Trevor picked up this slimy creature, put it in the back of his El Camino and drove home.

We put it in the barn and decided to take care of him. We cleaned him up, watched him stand for the first time, and started bottle feeding him. After much deliberation, we decided to name him 'Bird' after the scene in Bambi when he speaks his first word.

Our BIRD never started talking, but he was very entertaining for several months. It wasn't long before we started letting him out of the barn. He would frolic around the yard playing with dogs. They all got along great. At night, we would put him back in the barn to keep him from wandering off and keep him safe.

During the day, he would hang out at the front door just like other pets hoping to be fed. We had to be careful around him when he got playful. His hooves were sharp and we got busted in the face occasionally when he would jump up. While smashing other deer in the face may be considered endearing to deer, it is not a very appealing quality for people. We soon learned the dogs didn't care for it either.

When the dogs and deer were all playing in the yard, jumping around, and enjoying each others' company, eventually Bird would rear up high on his back legs and butt his rock hard head into one of the dog's heads. The dog would yelp and skulk off to a hiding spot to nurse his headache. After getting popped a few times, the dogs lost all interest in playing with Bird.

With time, we quit putting him in the barn at night and for weeks it was just like he was one of the dogs. With time, he got to where he would wander off, but he always returned at meal time. As he got bigger, he would sometimes disappear for days at a time and for the first time was a bit timid around us. He wouldn't always let us approach. We saw him less and less as time went on.

Sometimes we would see him in a farmer's field grazing with the cows, but he never came by the house any more. The following November, my uncle was out deer hunting and thought it was odd when he kept creeping up on a deer that didn't run off even when it noticed him. He then realized that it was probably Bird and we would never forgive him if he shot it, so he left him alone and looked for another.

A few months later, we heard a story that one of our neighbor's told at the local bar. He had been in the garage behind his house changing his oil when he noticed a buck standing in his back yard. He slowly moved to the wall to grab his bow, aimed and shot. The arrow missed and went over the deer's head. The deer's head shot up and looked directly at him. The man froze wondering if he would get the opportunity to get another shot when the deer started walking toward him.

Shocked at what was happening, he didn't draw another arrow. The deer walked right up to him and nuzzled his hand. After about 30 seconds, it turned around and hopped the fence in his back yard.

When he finished his story, the other bar patrons laughed at him and asked if he had been drinking that night. No one believed his story, but we had a feeling it was true.

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Happily participating in the Blogging from A to Z Challenge. For the entire month of April, 1,968 bloggers are working their way through the alphabet. One letter every day except Sundays for a total of 26 days.

Click here to visit the website and get more information to see if you might want to join in next year. It's a lot of fun, introduces you to hundreds of new blogs and gives your writing some fantastic exposure.

Funny Bone Results #18 - Penguin Party

This week's caption contest featured my favorite animal - the PENGUIN!
I love them. As usual, I supplied the picture and the readers supplied the caption to go with it. There are no winners or prizes. Everyone just gets to play with no pressure. Well…maybe a little bit of pressure. I mean, I am going to post your responses up for everyone to see. So, there's that.

Let's tear ourselves away from the penguins for a moment to see what captions were submitted.


Addman of Muppets for Justice

• There was always something fishy about that girl...

Vanessa D of My Half-Assed Life

• Way to go Chilly, now she knows we're back here.

HeatherL of Stretching My Wings

• Darn this lack of snow and ice! We'll never catch up to her if we just waddle!

Becky Overturf Wall of Contemplations

• The Pied Piper can come in all shapes and sizes.
• I'll ask Mom if my friends can stay for supper.

Sandee of Comedy Plus

• If just one more of you tries to peek at my underwear there's going to be some real trouble.

A Beer For the Shower

• Penguin up front: "I don't know what you're doing in this neighborhood, kid, but your kind isn't welcome here." 

Stephen Hayes of The Chubby Chatterbox

• "What makes her think today is casual Friday?"

Winopants of Wino on a Ramble

• Little Susie always had to be the best at everything, even show and tell.

Rusty of Swinging Like a Rusty Gate

• The unlikely sequel: Phalanx of the Penguins

Red of Doesn't Speak Klingon

• Little girl! Give us back our bow-ties! We feel underdressed!
• Come with me, penguins...I'll get you top-hats to go with your tuxedos.

 The Six-Fingered Monkey

• "Must. Eat. Brains."

Jen of Break the Parenting Mold

•  shhhhh......follow me, I have a pool and a swingset and a slide and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and juice and what kind of juice do you guys like? and we can play dress-up and tea party and ponies and dollies...

Rachael of Rachael's Insane Rants and Bizarre Musings

• And Will name you "Chilly" and I will name you "Tuxedo" and I will name you...

Heather of Creative Devolution

• The embarrassment of being the only human to show up to a penguin flash mob.

Arose

• "This way to the Egress"

Shane Morgan of In Shane's Brain

• "Now when we get to my house, you all have to hide under the bed."
• "You remember what we talked about right, you can have the shoes but I get the bow."
• "Maria! I just fell for a girl named 'Maria'"!

Anonymous

• "Summer's Eve - so the penguins don't follow your fishy smell"

Valerie of Valerie Nunez and the Flying Platypi

• Remember fellas... blend in....

Real Life Angry Birds

My brother Trevor is a great story teller. Not only does he always have a story to tell, but he tells it really well. At every family gathering, he will share with us one of his latest adventures. I've shared one of his stories before. Click the link to read about the time one of his buddies got stabbed in a bar. I know it doesn't sound like it, but it's a very funny story.

With Friends Like These...

This is one of Trevor's stories. Just like the one in the bar, I was not present for the events. I only got to hear about them after the fact. I will do my best to recall the story as I heard it.

---

A few years ago, an acquaintance of Trevor's invited him and some of his buddies to a Sunday afternoon barbecue. While they were trying to decide if they had anything better going on that day, the host drops another detail about the party.  

"We will be having ostrich!"

"An ostrich barbecue? Count us in!"

It's not every day you get to eat ostrich and normally, if you do get the opportunity, it is just a taste. This is one of those opportunities you don't want to pass up. The chance to go to an ostrich barbecue doesn't come along very often.

The following weekend, Trevor and his buddies left early to make sure they could find the place since they had never been there before. They arrived about an hour early and the host was happy to see them. He said he needed help getting ready and he didn't have the ostrich yet. They all piled in the back of his truck and took off.

The host drove them to a barn in the middle of nowhere. Trevor asked, "What are we doing here?" He was told, "This is where the ostrich is." Trevor then realized that the meal for the day was still alive. This day just kept getting more interesting.

They opened up a gate to the pasture and drove the truck in. After driving around several acres, they finally saw the large bird off in the distance. Their host handed a .22 rifle to the guys in back of the truck and told them to shoot it when they drove close enough. He also told them that it had to be shot in the head. A body shot would not kill it. One of the guys happily grabbed the rifle to be the one to get the shot, but soon realized this was not an easy feat.

As the truck got closer, the ostrich ran off and the driver accelerated. The truck gave chase as the driver yelled for him to shoot as he pulled up along side the ostrich. Unfortunately, the ostrich didn't allow for that. As the truck would catch up and start to pull to one side, the ostrich would turn away from it as the driver screamed, "SHOOT!"

The shooter was having some problems. Ostriches can run up to about 40 MPH. They were standing in the back of a fast-moving truck driving on unpaved ground, chasing a bird that is darting back and forth, while having to aim at a part of it's body that isn't much bigger than a tennis ball. The rifle got passed around as they all took their shots.

Eventually, one of them got lucky and the bird went down. The driver stopped quickly, jumped out and cut off the head with a machete. Ostriches react much in the same way as chickens when their heads are removed, except in this case, the flopping bird could kill you if you got too close.

Once it settled down, they all grabbed on to throw it into the back of the truck. However, this was 300 pounds of dead weight. They couldn't get a decent grip on it. Every time they tried to pick it up, they were only successful on the sides. They couldn't get the bulk of it off the ground. They couldn't even roll it in.

By this time, they had been out for over an hour. People would be showing up at the BBQ by now expecting to eat. The host was getting anxious to get moving. He dug some chains out from behind the seat and secured them to the bird's feet and the other end to the bumper of his truck. He said if they could get it to the barn, they could come up with something to get it in the truck. They were over a half mile out in the pasture, but they drug that ostrich all the way.

Once they got to barn, they tried setting up boards on the tailgate to roll it in and several other methods. Nothing seemed to work. Eventually, they threw a rope over one of the rafters in the barn and used the truck to lift the bird into the air. They secured the rope and then drove the truck underneath and lowered it back down.

With the ostrich finally in the truck, they triumphantly made their way back to the party. They discovered that many people had arrived and started the celebration without them. The scheduled time had passed over two hours before then and they hadn't even cleaned and butchered the bird yet. Several people jumped in to help to get the meat started, but it was a slow process. Most of the people left before the first pieces came off.

Trevor and his friends stuck around. After all the work they had put into getting it here, they weren't about to miss out. Plus, they were covered in ostrich blood and figured this might be the only place where that look would be acceptable.

---

After Trevor finished his story, I asked him what he thought of ostrich meat. His reply was simple.

"It tastes like chicken."

Funny Bone #18 - Penguin Party

I love penguins. Any time I go to the zoo (which isn't very often), I insist that we see the penguins first and then again on the way out. I love penguins.

I like them so much, when I got married we had a penguin bride and groom on the top of our wedding cake. It took a while to find those. Penguins hadn't yet gained the popularity they have today. Now they're everywhere. Well…images of penguins are everywhere. The actual penguins are mostly where they have always been.

For this week's caption picture, I have showcased my favorite animal. I would love to have the experience that this little girl is having. Turning around and seeing a bunch of penguins following me would be awesome. I just pray that if that ever does happen to me that I will have a camera with me…and some fish so they will keep following.

Alright! The rules are pretty simple. I have supplied the picture. Now you supply the caption. Leave your caption in the comment section. Leave as many as you want and do your best to make us laugh. Every caption I receive, I will post on Friday.

Have fun!

Danger Mouse Must Sign A Release Form

Today, I finally broke down and bought the toy that I've wanted for the last year. I bought a Kindle Fire. It has so many features, I am still learning how to use it, but I love it.

As much as I'm enjoying my new toy, getting it was not nearly as enjoyable. I will break this story up into two parts. I know how pleased everyone was last time I did a 'TO BE CONTINUED.'<sup>*

*</sup>Hopefully, the sarcasm was noticed.

I bought it from a Best Buy over an hour from my home. I had to travel for unrelated business anyway and decided to get it while I was there. I had arrived 30 minutes before the store was open, so I wandered around some of the other stores to pass some time. I have a tendency to get into trouble if I don't keep myself busy.

All dogs go to heaven,
but cats burn in eternal fire

One of those stores was a Petco. After spending a few minutes looking at the animals, I decided to get a feeder mouse^* for Dr. Finklerstein.  

^*'Feeder mouse' is a nice way of saying 'snake food.'

Dr. Finklerstein is a python…and he eats live mice. In case you didn't catch that part. Well, he kills them first, and then eats them. So, I am buying a mouse to toss in a cage to be eaten by a snake.

It is very important to the story that you understand that.

I ask one of the employees to get me a feeder mouse and he dashes off. After several minutes, he comes back, hands me a paper and says, "Fill this out and date it."

Without even glancing at it, I started to just give it back to him. I hate when stores ask for my information. I decline to provide it because they don't actually need my info for me to make a purchase. Plus, I don't want to get a bunch of mail from them, electronic or otherwise.

As I start to hand it back, I see the word 'AGREEMENT' at the top. This made me curious. I read the paper and realized it was a disclaimer form promising that I would treat the animal I was purchasing in a humane fashion and would not intentionally let it come to harm.

Let me remind you again that I was only buying this mouse to feed it to a snake!

After reading it, I looked up at the employee. He stared back at me with eyes that clearly said, "I know. Please don't say it."

My eyes pleaded with his, "I want to say it."

He glared back and his eyes spoke with intensity, "Can't you tell I think this is stupid too?"

I furrowed my brow and even shook the paper for effect as my eyes challenged his, "But you're the one who gave me the paper."

He then sighed and gave me a sad look that said, "I can't get your mouse until you sign it" or it might have said, "I hate my job." I'm not very good at reading visual cues. Either way, I signed the paper promising not to harm the mouse.

Despite the fact that he knew I was lying since I had asked for a feeder mouse, he retrieved one for me. I tried to hand him the signed agreement, but he instructed me to present it at the register when I checked out.

As the check out girl was ringing up my mouse, she asked for the humane treatment document. I handed it to her and asked, "You do know that I am only buying this mouse for snake food, right?"

She shot me a look that sternly communicated, "You do know that I only make minimum wage, right?"

I took my receipt and new doomed pet out of the store and headed toward Best Buy. It was time to get my Kindle, but the story of that store will have to wait until tomorrow.

Tune in to our next post for the conclusion to this harrowing tale and answers to the questions:

• Will Best Buy also have asinine paperwork?
• Does the mouse have an opinion about any of this?
• Will Brett continue to communicate with his eyes or will he switch to using a finger?

These questions and many more will be answered in the next post…or maybe not.

Culinary Adventures

I love food.

I mean, really love food. I especially like to try new foods. If a restaurant is serving something I have never had before, you can be assured that is what I will order. There is so much good food out there, I never know when I may stumble across a culinary delight that I might not have already known about.

I have never understood picky eaters. I do understand that some people don't like a lot of things. There is nothing they can do about that. I won't judge. However, the people that won't even try something new baffle me. What are they afraid of? If you don't like it, you don't like it. What's the big deal?

I am not referring to people with dietary restrictions or health concerns that restrict what they can eat. I have a friend that grew up with an extremely limited diet and after a gall bladder surgery there is very little that his body will allow him to eat. He and others like him get let off the hook. The same goes for vegetarians, the lactose intolerant and people with food allergies.

I know this is not true in all cases, but many of the people that refuse to try new things are not doing it because of taste. They just have no sense of adventure or have concluded they don't like something when they don't actually know. They've decided what they eat and do not venture from it. In high school, my friend Jeff was eating dinner with my family and was halfway through his third bowl of chili when he complimented my mother on how great it was. She thanked him and replied that she was trying to get rid of the last of the deer burger we had in the freezer and thought chili would be the way to go. Jeff turned green and set the bowl down. After spitting out what was still in his mouth, he said, "What? This is deer? I hate deer!" He then ran to the bathroom to clean out his mouth.

He had already eaten three bowls and even commented on how good it was. How could he honestly say he didn't like it? However, he maintained his stance when he came back. It was hard to take him seriously.

Kirsten has a friend that has spent the night many times. On several occasions, she has walked into the kitchen as I am making dinner to ask what we're having.

"I'm making a tuna casserole."

"Oh, I don't like tuna!"

"I'm sorry. Did I say tuna? I meant chicken casserole."

I would then continue to make the tuna casserole. The great thing about this kid is I would tell her the truth halfway through the meal and she would admit "I guess I like tuna now." Good girl. 

She has eaten lots of things at my house that she claimed she didn't like. One time, after showing her disgust for something in her own home, her dad asked her why she is so picky at home when she will eat anything at my house. She answered, "Well, it's probably because Brett lies a lot." I can't deny the truth of that statement.

Any guest in my house quickly learns that I will not fix a special meal for them. They are more than welcome to share a meal with us, but they can eat what we are eating. The same rule applies to children. I raised mine that way. No child will starve himself. If my children refused to eat something, I didn't force them. However, they would not be allowed a bite of anything else until they ate what was served. Even if it took two days. They weren't picky for long and today are very adventurous eaters.

On the few trips I've made out of the country, I've been part of a group and could never understand why they would vote to go to McDonald's or Taco Bell when it came time to eat. Why would you want to eat something that you can get back home? We're in a foreign land. Let's try something local. Let's experience what this country has to offer. Of course, these are usually the same people that want to hit the local mall rather than see the sites and experience the culture.

As for myself, I will eat anything that is considered food. I would never expect people to eat some of the things that I have eaten, but anyone who says they are hungry and then turns their nose up at a plate of food doesn't have any concept of what hungry actually means. However, if you would like to have an eating adventure, accompany me into the city to find something new. This is a favorite activity of my daughter and myself. On our last outing, we ate uncooked quail eggs right out of the shell and raw eel. We weren't impressed by the eggs, but the eel was amazing.

Believe it or not, I have eaten 
something very similar to this.

I have eaten octopus on many occasions and sometimes it is raw (which is the best way to eat it). Once, like the picture above, it was still alive. The one I had was much larger.

I have eaten bear, iguana, elk, shark, moose, ostrich, earthworms, emu, dog, rattlesnake, rat, crocodile, various insects, rabbit, frog, squid, guinea pig, caterpillar, crawdads, squirrel, horse, tarantula, raccoon, dolphin, alligator, opossum, and even skunk. I've tried hundreds of different exotic fruits, vegetables, roots, and flowers that I had never even heard of until they were in front of me. Some of these I sought out, others were eaten because the opportunity presented itself. I didn't like all of them, but I never refuse to eat something. Even if I don't like it, I will finish what is served to me. You will never see me spit out food.

The DURIAN.
Banned in many public places due to the smell.

I have several specific foods on my list that I would like to try. I want to eat a durian. I have heard it described as tasting like a soggy onion. It doesn't sound good, but I know no one who has eaten one. I just have to.

I also want to eat the Japanese dish fugu. It must be prepared by highly specialized chefs who are trained to properly remove the neurotoxins of the puffer fish so as not to kill the consumer. Although, I may wait until I am highly advanced in years before I try this one.

I have a friend who has invited me over to eat balut as soon as we can find a way to get around the Illinois state shipping laws. I will not describe this dish here, but you can click its name if you're curious.

I don't expect everyone to be this adventurous, but there is so much good food that goes beyond the American standard of meat and potatoes. Try something new every now and then. You never know when you might stumble upon your next favorite.