I took this on the way home from the AT&T phone store. It’s nothing special, but it caught my attention. I guess it’s a tribute to the loss of the rural agrarian society that we haven’t had for decades.
I was at the phone store because my smart phone stopped being smart last night, sometime between 5:30 when I called my mother and 9:30 when I tried to check the email. The darn thing wouldn’t turn on. I know the battery wasn’t run down, there had been at least a 25% charge when last I used it. So, after Marlon started calming down (more about that later), I drove to the store to find out the bad news. A pretty blonde girl opened the door for me and asked how she could help me. I explained the situation. She opened the back of the phone, popped out the battery, and left me saying that she would talk to the manager for advice. She walked into the back room with the phone. She returned in about five minutes and said the phone was all better, or words to that effect. I asked what the problem had been. She said, “Battery jam.” I thought that it sounded like the worst ever accompaniment to scones, but simply thanked her and left.
Marlon doesn’t like bad weather. When I woke up this morning the wind was blowing briskly. It was blowing enough that Marlon was barking at the wind. Cindy and I both thought it looked like it was going to storm, wo we gave Marlon one of the doggie tranquilizers that Trina had left for just such an occurance. She told us that it would knock him out. It did not. The trank slowed him down, but it didn’t knock him out. After Cindy left for work I noticed something disturbing. Marlon started sneezing. It reminded me of humans I have seen coughing because they were experiencing a panic attack. I petted Marlon and spoke to him soothingly, and he calmed down and stopped sneezing. When he went to the living room and settled into my chair I left and went to the phone store. When I came back he started sneezing again. I petted him some more to calm him, and let him out to scare the birds and critters in the back yard. When he came back in he finally let the trank knock him out. And we never got the storm.
I noticed yesterday that when I’m alone with Marlon I tend to talk to him like Mr. Rogers. I take on the same intonations and cadence as Fred Rogers did when he was in the neighborhood. I’m pretty sure Marlon will be my friend.