Well, I’m a wreck, I’m a wreck, I’m a wreck!    That old woman is going to be the death of me – seriously.   She just can’t keep out of trouble, no matter what I try to do.   We started the day innocently enough with a long walk in the country behind our Texas house.   Very nice.   No problemos.   I spotted a couple of H-O-R-S-E-S, but, luckily, they were far away and not an imminent threat to moi.   We walked on Old Plantersville Road until we got to the Montgomery City Limit sign (Population 489), and that was a LONG way for me this morning.   I was tired and thirsty by the time we got back to our house and thought for sure we would be taking a nice long nap.   But, no, no, no.   I knew Slow was up to something when she started scurrying around gathering up her hoe and rake and tree trimmers.   Uh, oh.   Looks like we’re headed to that cemetery place.   Good grief. 

  Can we ever have a pleasant trip to Texas without making that obsessive pilgrimage to some old stones for dead people, for God’s sake????   What is it with her?   She acts like she’s headed to Mecca or the Wailing Wall or some other IMPORTANT holy place!   Pull yourself together, Slow, and let’s take a break before we undertake another project today.

Of course, that was useless.   Before I can say jack rabbit, I’m piled up in this truck with all of her accessories for the journey.   Our first stop was Brookshire Brothers where she bought these rather sad plastic flowers.   My dear, you are hopeless.   If only I could share my ideas for silk bouquets.   Sigh.   And then, naturally, we veer into the Shipley’s Donuts shack.   I see she will indulge in the chocolate glazed as we make our way to Richards.   The old girl weighs almost every day and appears to be consumed by remorse when she steps off the scales in the bathroom.   Evidently, she drowns her sorrows in donuts.   A vicious cycle, to be sure.   But, then, who am I to talk?

Now, don’t get me wrong.   I can take the cemetery or leave it.   It’s this big totally fenced-in area in the middle of some pastures and hills and big oak trees.   I’ve been here lots of times, and I can always amuse myself running around sniffing and pissing on all these stones.   If I hadn’t been exhausted from my walk, I probably would have tried to enjoy myself.   So, when Slow drove the truck through the gate and then closed it to drive to the stones for her family, I was ready to jump out and have an adventure while the old woman went to work on her flowers.   Zippity doo dah, zippity yay, my, oh, my, what a wonderful day.   Plenty of sunshine headin’ my way, zippity doo dah, zippity yay.

Whoaaaaaaaaa…what’s this?   Out of nowhere, and I’m talking thin air here, this HUGE animal appears in front of me!   I stopped dead in my tracks and stared at it.   It was maybe ten feet tall and had hair all over its body and had this big head with beady black eyes and a grin that showed fangs bigger than any I’d ever seen!   Okay, easy, easy, easy, I said to myself.   I can handle a delicate situation with the best of them, and then he reached out his big hairy arms and tried to grab me!   Yikes!   Get me out of here, Percy!!   Put it in high gear!!   And I ran lickety split for that old girl’s truck!   I ran like the Devil was after me.   Hey, maybe that WAS the Devil!!   Shudder, shudder, shudder.

As I jumped in the truck (thankfully, Slow had left the doors open), I breathed a sigh of relief.   I looked around for the THING, but I didn’t see it again.   I was fearful, fearful, fearful, let me tell you.   Slow kept calling me to get out of the truck and enjoy the outdoors, but I stayed put the rest of the time.   That truck was the only safe place to be on this day.   I know that for sure.   I spent my time on full alert for any sign of trouble until Slow finished and made her usual tour of the graves.   I swear she can entertain herself forever in this place.   Get back in this truck, you daffy twit!   Can’t you see that I’ve stayed in here for a REASON?

All’s well that ends well, I always say, and here I am back at home with Slow.   We made it safely out of the cemetery and then made another stop for her to visit with Vivian McCune, who was a good friend of her grandmother, before we finally drove home.   Honestly, I am wigged, wigged, wigged just thinking about my day.   I feel an attack of the vapors coming over me, so I must take to my bed.   More later, gator.