August 13th 2010 11:52 am
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The pups realized they were reaching there destination for the evening when the map suddenly scrunched itself into a tight wad, then sprung forth as a burst of confetti. By the time it had floated to the ground it had turned itself into a sleep mask with cartoons of sleeping kittens all over it. Dubs picked it up and put it on and went to take a nap before dinner.
It was a pleasant location, so the map had directed them well. It was in a small grove of trees, near a clear little thread of a creek which sparkled and bubbled as they set up camp. Samoa and Angel went to sit by the stream and dangle their paws in the clear water.
“This is nice” said Angel. “but I do wonder how long this trip is going to take…if we will ever get back home.”
“Oh, I am sure things will work out. I mean, at least we aren’t dealing with a villain like Big Mojo.”
“Yes, well a girl likes to be in a comfortable place where she can wind her turbans in a bit of peace. And know where her next beignet is coming from!”
“I understand. And I myself would like a regular source of cool bottled beer.” Samoa replied. “Or on tap, you understand. That would be fine as well.”
As they sat talking, Young Tanner came up and eased himself down on the bank near to them. “Some long days in the saddle, I tell you. Boy Howdy!”
“Rump sore?” asked Samoa.
“Yes, and my noggin too – thanks to that platter I got whanged with.” Replied Tanner.
“Oh. Sorry about that.” Said Samoa.
“No matter. I just wish this trip was done so I could get to Californy.” Replied Tanner. “I do want to join my family out there.”
“Yes, we all want to be home. This wandering around will tire a pup out.” Said Samoa.
“Maybe, now that the map is cooperating – we could ask how far we have to go.” Suggested Angel. Just then the large yellow bird Dubbin ‘a Ferd landed next to them on the bank. He gazed at them for a moment and then twisted his head in a rather alarming way and gazed at them upside down for a moment.
“So why didn’t you ask, you silly?” the bird said to them, much to their amazement as he had been silent until this time. Well, silent except for certain dark mutterings that sounded much like barroom banter.
“Well…if you know, why didn’t you tell us?” returned Samoa.
“Nobody asked and nobody told. That’s the Pirate Code!” recited the bird, spinning abruptly and suddenly taking to the air.
“Wait!” cried Tanner “I want to know! I want to know when I am going home!”
“Sooner than late, and later than soon. When the clouds pass over the moon.” Said the bird, and sailed away into the treetops.
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OOOOOOOoooooooo ... a beer on tap and a soft bed... sooner rather than later would be good.
Flicka and Lucas sat by the creek and paddled and dreamed good dreams
I understand that you can't kill the bird, but couldn't someone whack him in the head with something. STupid bird!