Petey is Pronounced a Barnacle

Pat Deer is visiting. If she wrote the way she talks she would be the next Irma Bombeck. Really an incredible sense of words, humor and the human condition. Well. Petey slept with Pat last night. (I am not jealous or offended.) And said in the morning, “That Petey-weetie is a barnacle when he sleeps in your bed!” Yep, that’s my boy!

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It looked like a stick when I opened the back door.

Well, our ususal routine here is that I come home, there are whirling dirvishes at my presence and I move on to open the back door asap for the bladder ladden four-footed, beloved roommate. I opened the back door and similtaneously pondered the stick 12″ upright that I didn’t remember being there. It was an “oh-well” moment until Petey broke into a mad dash and the stick liquified into a u-turn and I screamed for “GET BACK IN HERE”. For once, Petey actually responded to my urgency. I believe the snake was a non-venomous coach  snake — they are very fast and not harmful. So I called my mother (a woman’s immediate response is to contact her mother is she is still living) and looked up the Texas Snakes reference book. We determined the snake was probably long gone and Petey’s overly-full bladder could probably withstand a trip into our fenced backyard.

All is well. Petey and the snake (stick). My number one priority this weekend is to spend time with my dear friend David and to meet Brian. But a close second is to weedwhack all of Johnson grass inside of the fence in the back. I don’ hate snakes — I just want to see them coming…

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