Ever Wondered?

How long the gestation period is, for having a “Hissie-fit;” or a “Conniption?”

Why all your former Schoolmates are ‘Wrinkled’ and ‘Gray-headed?”

Why there are 2,687 pairs of trousers on the rack; with sizes ranging from 28 to 34, and only 3 pairs above size 40?  ‘And they are Puke-Green.’

Why golfers yell “fore;” when their ball is about to hit someone?  Why not five” or eight?”

Why it only rains on the days when you’ve; forgotten your umbrella? or washed the car?”

Why Gasoline is .55 cents cheaper at the Filling Station you just passed; (on the other side of the freeway)?

Why the person seated behind you in a theater tells you that the “Butler Done It; as soon as the curtain rises?”

Why the young man would invest. and install; “A $2,800.00 Sound System,” in an Automobile that he paid, “$150.00″ for?

Why your stomach growls at the precise time when the Preacher pauses”?

Why you are asked to ‘wait in the Bar,’ for forty-five minutes for a table; when there are only four customers in the restaurant?

What would happen to the blue light specials’?  if there were no microphones or speakers in department stores?

Why Skycaps are always available to help with your baggage when you arrive at an airport; but are conspicuously absent as you struggle to your car with five (5) suitcases?

Why it is customary to tip an employee at a hotel, for bringing you a drink? but not the person who cleans your room each day?

How prices in every grocery store can be lower than their competitor?

Who the persons are who decide that Quick-burger tastes better than Fast-burger?

Why the person driving behind you insists on passing? and turns at the next street or stops at the next light?

Why someone is sure to ask,  “Did you have a flat?”  when they observe you ‘changing a tire’?

Why you are so excited about beginning a trip;?  yet so relieved to return home?


If you stay tuned here, to get all the answers; you’re “wasting your time.”  “If we knew them; we wouldn’t ask.”    Dj

My Friend; “L. L.”

The following tale was related to me several years ago, by my friend’s lovely wife; and was later confirmed by L. L.” himself.  The two of them were dear friends of ours when we lived at the coast of North Carolina.

Believe it or not;  the both of them appreciated my ‘tongue-in-cheek’ writing and the fact that I, “poke fun,”  ‘only,’ at those whom I like.  Thus; originated the nickname of “L. L.” ; although my friend’s name is “Bob.”

“L. L.” was a Presbyterian Minister for some forty years, and served several Churches in Eastern North, and South Carolina.  After his retirement; he continued his Ministry by supplying for other Ministers when needed.

Early in his retirement, he agreed to supply at ‘two’ Churches in South Carolina; which were located some twelve miles apart.  The early service was at White Oak Presbyterian,’ in Chesterfield County, S.C.  Their weekly service usually ended around  ten o’clock.

The other service was at First Presbyterian,’ in the town of Chesterfield; that began at eleven o’clock.  By trimming a few minutes from his sermon and prayers, he could usually travel the distance. with relative ease.

On one particular Sunday;  a parishioner from White Oak, approached him and asked for a ride to her home in Chesterfield.  “Of course,” was the reply; “but you will have to meet me at my car when the last hymn is being sung.”

Mrs. Lizenby, the parishioner; was waiting as “L. L.” ran out the side door with his robe fluttering behind him.  The road from White Oak to Chesterfield, meandered through the sand hills of South Carolina; and was sparsely traveled .

Since he was pressed for time, it was on this road that he lived up to his nickname.  With the speedometer hovering near 90 mph;  he made a futile attempt to carry on a conversation with Mrs. Lizenby.

Throughout the twelve miles, the silence from the passenger side of the vehicle was almost deafening.  When they arrived at her home; she made a ‘hasty exit,’ from the car without as much as a ‘fare-thee-well.’  With wheels spinning; “L. L.” roared out of the driveway and sped toward his next worship service.

It was a funny thing about the length of time that he preached at these two Churches.   “For the balance of his tenure at White Oak Church; all of (“L. L.’s”) offers to give Mrs. Lizenby a ride home, was graciously declined.”  “I wonder why?”

“Have you guessed the meaning of the two letters, for his nickname?”  “You’re Right!”  “It was (Leadfoot – Link).”

Several years after his retirement, Bob served as supply Pastor in Rowland, N.C.  Once, while Mama and I, were eating ‘old dead fish’ with He and Mary Ann;  I asked him?

“If we just happened to attend the worship service in Rowland, some Sunday; will you allow us to sit with the congregation; or would you demand that we sit in the balcony?” 

His reply was an emphatic; “You are welcome at anytime, and you can sit on the front pew, if you wish.”  “BUT, I would prefer that you NOT wear your shirttail hanging out of a pair of raggedy shorts.” 

Ask anybody?  “L. L.” is a “Good ole Boy,”  BUT;  He can be quite Tacky.”



Billy Bob was prone to expound on his prowess with members of the opposite sex to anyone who would take the time to listen.

He was relating his latest escapade to Bubba while they each nursed a long-neck Miller Hi-Life at the local road house.  It went something like this.

“There I was; In her bedroom making passionate love, while her husband was working on the night shift.  Suddenly, we heard a sound coming from the vicinity of the front door.”

“It’s my husband,” she screamed;  “He’s home early!  You’ve got to get out of here!

Billy Bob continued, “Not taking the time to dress, I threw my clothes out of the window and climbed through behind them and clung to the window sash by the tips of my fingers for the rest of the night.”  BOY, was I mad!”

Bubba took a long pull from his Hi-Life bottle and said, “Man, you were lucky to get out with your hide intact.  Were you mad because you almost got caught?”

“Hail, no;” replied Billy Bob, “What really made me furious was that when it got light enough for me to see, I found that the ground was only ‘six inches below my feet.”


Jethro drove his pickup truck into downtown Atlanta for the first time.  His ignorance of metropolitan street patterns was obvious when he turned onto a one way street and headed in the wrong direction.

He had gone several blocks when a police cruiser appeared behind him and signaled for him to pull over.  The officer approached the truck and in a loud voice asked, “Where in the hell do you think you’re going, fellow?”

Calmly, Jethro answered, “I really don’t know; but I reckon I’m late because it sure looks like everybody else is going home.”


Two Mice were strolling through the park as two gorgeous models walked by.

One Mouse said,  “Let’s catch up with them and we’ll climb up their legs.”

“Oh, NO.  Not me;” said the other one, “I’m a Titmouse.”


“You know the old saying;”   “Different strokes for different folks.” Dj.

Words & Usage

Compiled from the “Demijon Abridged Dictionary;”  first grade edition.

TEE-WINEY:   An extremely small item.   Usage – “I’ll jus’ have a ‘tee-winey’ bit of coffee.”

MESS:   A sufficient amount.   Usage – “That ‘mess’ of peas, you picked for supper; “is ‘a ’nuff fer two meals.”

BAIT:   Quite enough.   Usage – “I ‘et me a ‘bait’ of fried fish last night.”

FRAIL:   A method of punishment.   Usage – “I’m gonna ‘frail’ the day-lights’ out of you.”

HICKORY:   Means of administering said punishment.   Usage – “Go cut me a ‘hickory.”

HULL-A-BUL-OO:   Raising a ruckus; being unruly.   Usage – “Y’all; stop that ‘hull-a-bul-oo.”

TAR:   Th’ round, rubber part of an automobile wheel:  Usage – “You busted that ‘Tar’ all-ta-peices; my friend.”

NEWUN:   Replacement.   Usage – “When I busted that tar; I had to buy me a ‘newun.”

WAY-YONDER:   A warning.   Usage – “I’ve had a ‘way-yonder,’ ‘nough of your lip.”

KEEPON:   Final warning.   Usage – “You ‘keepon’ doing that, and I’ll cut me a ‘hickory.”

YOUNT: ‘ Surprise or unbelief.   Usage – “Mavis is in a family way:”   “Yount-Say?”

GIT-AOUN:   A time period.   Usage – “If Mavis is expecting.?”  “When do you recon she will “git-aoun?

MOS:   Approximately.   Usage – “Jed said that Mavis’ll, ‘git-aoun;’  mos’ any day now.

UDDER:   Duplicate or identical.   Usage – “Your right sock is Red; an’ th’ ‘udder’ one is blue.”  “How, Come?”

TURNT:   Mated.   Usage – “I took my cow over to Jed’s bull and ‘Turnt’ her.”

ASTOR:   A statement.   Usage – “I think Mary’ll ‘go steddy'; with you; if you’ll ‘astor.”

WOMB:   An unusual loud noise.   Usage – “When a elephant farts; he goes “WOMB.”

OKEY:   One half of an agreement.   Usage – “Okay-Dokey.”  “I’ll have jus’ a ‘tee-winey’ slice of pie.”

RONG:   Incorrect.   Usage – “That switch you fixed; looks ‘rong,’to me.”

TWERNT:   Denial.   Usage – “Twernt’ me; whot done that switch ‘rong.”

If you will take the time to memorize these words & the usage of same; chances are, you will be in a better position to carry on an intelligent conversation with those of us who possess superior intelligence.


Remember: “Some of us have it; and the rest of the population is trying to get it.”  Dj.



Boiled Peanuts

Boiled peanuts are considered a staple within the confines of the Deep South.  Chitlins, however, are not.  Very few ‘good old boys’ have ever tasted Chitlins, even though some consider them delicacies.  There is really no way around the fact that although cleaned, chopped and deep-fried, they are still no more than hog intestines.  It is a well known fact that if one makes the mistake of cooking Chitlins inside, will; ‘Urge the flies to make an extreme effort to get out of the house.’ 

Salley, South Carolina is touted as the ‘Chitlins capitol of the world.’  Each year, the population of the small hamlet swells to monumental proportions during their annual ‘Chitlins Strut’.  Folks from practically every state descend on the lowlands of South Carolina to sample these savory ‘tid-bits.’

Boiled peanuts, on the other hand, rank right up there with grits, collards, long-neck Miller Hi-Life, Levi Garrett chewing tobacco and Pickled Pigs Feet.  Although not widely known, boiled peanuts are the unofficial snack of NASCAR.  No fan from below the Mason-Dixon line would think of entering the track grandstand without a cooler full of beer and at least one Wall-Mart bag full of boiled peanuts.

Immediately after struggling into the grandstand with the cooler and the snacks; it is not long before it becomes necessary to find a ‘good buddy.’  Since beer acts on the human system much like a diuretic and the port-a-johns are a good distance away; an agreement is made with a nearby fan, hence; “Good buddy, would you watch my cooler and peanuts?”  My eyeballs are about to float.”

By the time the first caution flag is displayed; the floor of the grandstand is literally covered with shells and the cans that had contained the tantalizing brew are waiting to be stored in the empty Wall-Mart sack and carried to the nearest dumpster.

The peanut shells prove not to be a problem since they will be ground to a powder by stomping feet if a favorite driver is blocked while attempting to lead the race.

A recent survey from the track custodian estimated, that after a normal five hundred mile race, his crew would remove one and one half tons of ground peanut shells and only two bags that they suspected had contained ‘Chitlins.’  He further stated that as a general rule, the two Chitlins bags would probably be found in a grocery bag from a Piggishly-Wiggly, in New Jersey.

There are, however, exceptions to every rule. I once heard of a race fan from the great State of Illinois; who annually made the trek to the Southern 500 NASCAR sanctioned Automobile Race in Darlington, South Carolina.  The first stop on his trip was at Bubba’s Reptile Farm; located just south of the North Carolina – Virginia line.  It was here that he purchased enough boiled peanuts to last for the full 500 miles of the race.

When Earnhardt had been crowned the victor, he resumed his journey to Salley, South Carolina; where he spent the remainder of his week’s vacation eating Chitlins.

Just this one individual NASCAR Race, proves ‘Bubba’s’ lifelong theory:  “Yankees are strange folks; but they money is as good as anybodies.”


B. C. (Before Computers)

Communication was so simple; back in ‘the olden days.’  Just remove the receiver, turn the crank, and tell Mable to ring Grandma.  A few seconds later the familiar two shorts and one long ring was heard.  If by chance Grandma was not home, a noticeable click signaled that Mrs. Purvis had picked up on the two party line.

“She went to the drug store, Mable.  Doc Brantley called in a prescription for her arthritis medicine.”

“When she gets back, tell her Demijohn called.  How is Sam’s back?”

“It’s better; but he’ll be out of work another week”.  “Hey, Demijon.”

“Hey, Mrs. Purvis.”

This was not an unusual occurrence in the early days of the telephone. In many instances, the party line could be considered the forerunner of the answering machine. Since everyone knew everyone within 10 square miles, it was sometimes advantageous that neighbors kept close tabs on at least the members of their party line.

Who knew when another ring could be an emergency call?  In the event of an unanswered ring, a neighbor could immediately investigate.  It was certainly not considered ‘being nosy;  Or; “Whadda-Ya Think;?  ‘Was It??”

Then the age of technology raised its ugly head; and things began to get complicated. Telephone numbers were assigned and automatic, rotary dial phones, replaced the crank models.

This innovation allowed a measure of privacy since the rings were not heard throughout the party system. This; however, did not prevent any interested citizen on the same party line from picking up during a conversation.

Operators such as ‘Mable’ were still needed for directory assistance as well as dialing for long distance calls.  One disadvantage of the direct dial system was the fact that neighbors, not hearing the two shorts and one long; were prevented from suggesting that Mable re-route the call to the Drug Store or the Hardware.

I have questioned, (more than once), whether it was a boom or a bust, when the invention of micro chips, and touch-dial phones, allowed telephones to be connected to computers.

Recently, I had an occasion to call a major Utility Company, to ask about an error in my monthly statement.  When I had pressed the buttons for the listed number, a metallic voice answered with: […].

“Your call is important to us.  If you are calling for installation, press 1.  If you want to inquire about your monthly bill, press 2.  If you need service, press 3.  If you wish to leave a message, press 4.”  And on and on, it goes.

Being the patient, obedient, soul that I am, I pressed 2.  The same metallic voice again, came on the line with:  […].

“Your call is important to us.  All of our representatives are busy at the moment.  If you wish to record a message, press 1.  If you have a problem with your service, press 2.  If you want to wait, press 3.  If you wish to disconnect, press 4.”

Needless to say; after a twenty minute wait, and several words unsuitable for print; I hung up.  I can tell you from first-hand knowledge; that it does absolutely no good to ‘cuss at a computer.’

I then decided to drive to the office of the Company for the sole purpose of discussing my problem with, “A REAL, LIVE, PEOPLE!”  No more of this arguing with a bucket of bolts, icons, and defaults for me. I had a problem and I demanded a solution from a living, breathing person.

The amiable lady to whom I was assigned, quickly solved my problem with no more than half the time that I had been waiting for their computer to instruct me as to, which number I should press.’

Notice is now given to all businesses:  “If my call is important to you; You had better be damn sure to have a pleasant human voice answer me; and not a product from the twenty third century”.

“Incidentally; to those of you who called the Company after me:  I sincerely apologize.  If you received a busy signal, please forgive me:  Due to my indignation; I completely forgot to press 4 before I hung up.”

Enough said.


Pay Boot

I know that you expect this article to be about footwear, but that is not the case.  It is merely referring to an amount of difference involved in a SWAP.  A swap is the exchange of a product or merchandise between two individuals, and if one product is considered inferior to the other, then a demand is made for one individual to pay boot” to the other.

Years ago, swapping was a way of life for many.  It was even thought to be an art form in that, if one had a knack for presenting his article better than his opponent, then he could demand and usually collect something in addition to the item being swapped.

It was extremely rare when anyone swapped ‘even.’  One or the other expected to pay or to receive boot at the conclusion of the deal.  This was a way to get rid of something that one did not want and perhaps to acquire a different item in its place. – “Plus a bonus”.

A gathering of people at the town square usually included some who were involved in a swap.  This could be anything from pocket knives’ to ‘horses’, and sometimes even Land”.

Another form of swapping was called “throwing.”  This involved items that could be hidden in one’s hand, i.e. “Want to throw knives?”  If the challenge was accepted, closed hands were extended with the article in them.  On a signal, both items were dropped into the opponents hand at the same time.  Upon receipt of both items, the swap was concluded and ‘no boot’ could be collected.  Again:  It was rare for one to receive a better item than he gave in this form of swapping.

Swapping was definitely not to be taken lightly.  Not only were hours spent in the process of arranging a swap; but more time was expended in arguing about the amount or nature of the boot’.  It could be in the form of money or other merchandise.

Frequently one could hear; “I swapped mule’s with old man Parker and got a Calf and $15,00 to boot.”  This type of trade sometimes caused discord and resulted in the loss of friendship; if one suspected that he had been “rooked” by the other person.

Of course; there were some that would take advantage of their opponent; but, as a general rule; they were in the minority.  Most of the people who passed the time in this fashion were completely honest in the presentation of their product.  As a result, the ‘swap’ was made in ‘good faith,’ even if you had to PAY BOOT.


I am still in possession of the pocket knife, (with a broken blade), that I received; when I was in a throwing” contest with Albert Sanders.  I wonder if he ever got the crystal fixed on the wristwatch I swapped’ him?       Dj.


More years ago than I care to remember, we spent most every summer weekend toiling in a 1/2 acre garden at our small farm where we attempted to raise every type of vegetable listed in the seed catalog.

Obviously, two people could not consume all of the bounty produced by the prolific plants, therefore, we harvested the succulent produce and distributed it among our friends and neighbors.

On one particular year, we had an abundance of “silver queen” sweet corn and “derby” green beans.  We cooked and ate all we could; packed as much in the freezer as we felt we needed and hauled the balance some 50 miles to our home to give it away.

As soon as we arrived home one weekend, I carried a couple dozen ears of corn and a sack of green beans to a neighbor across the street. The rest was left in the truck until we returned to work on Monday when it would be shared with our co-workers. This was somewhat of a ritual throughout the growing season.

Exhausted and sunburned on this one particular night, we made it through a light dinner before falling into bed, knowing that the sound of the alarm clock would come all too soon. We both really felt that it was necessary to return to work in order to rest.

An unexpected incident occurred the next afternoon almost as soon as we had gotten home from work. We had no more than gotten into the house when the doorbell rang.

I answered the door and there stood the recipient of the corn and beans from the night before. He declined my invitation to come in; stating that his dinner was almost ready. But, he didn’t want to forget to give me the two items he held in his hand.

That said:  He handed me two packages of seed and said; “Next year; we want you to plant Kentucky-Wonder beans and Truckers-Favorite corn. We like those much better.”

Needless to say, this incident ended the sharing our hard work with others. For the rest of the time we spent at the farm, we searched for other means of occupying our time.

Quite possibly, the most interesting event was an auction, held in an abandoned barn each Saturday night.  On one particular night, a vendor was trying to auction off a truck load of small pillows.

When they were placed on the auction table, my wife’s breathing became erratic and splotches appeared on her face. With trembling voices, she and another lady became engaged in a bidding war between the two of them.

When it was all over; sweating profusely, my wife shook hands with the other lady and said; “You were a worthy opponent but, ‘let’s face it:’  You can’t compete with the best.”  The results of the evening were that we ended up with a Ford Van completely full of colorful pillows.

I do not remember how she finally disposed of them; but I am certain that I saw one or two in a box in the attic just the other day.

My child-bride prides herself on the fact that she is hell-bent on improving the economy of the Nation by buying everything that is offered for sale.  Proof of her obsession can be found in the 18 to 20 catalogs that are deposited in our mail receptacle on a weekly basis. These same catalogs can be found on every flat surface in our home, opened to a page offering a favorite knick-knack.

Our mail carrier, (bless her little heart), has begun leaving a dollar or two under the rubber band around the stack of ‘over due’ bills from the credit card folks; along with a note stating that, “She will try to leave more when she gets paid.”


“Did I hear you say that your Mother-In-Law was fond of different pillows?   Dj.


I really don’t care what the manufacturer, or the sales representatives say: Computers are NOT as smart as us geniuses. For instance…

I attempt to write an award winning essay or novel and when I type a word; a small, red, squiggly line appears directly below the word to indicate that I have misspelled it.  So, I break down and search the dictionary, only to find that the word IS correctly spelled.  This has caused me more acid reflux than a full plate of Mexican food.

Another thing that gets on my last nerve; is when I decide to change subjects, which normally calls for a new paragraph; and this monster jambs it right up into the last paragraph.  Many times, there has been more time spent in editing what this machine ‘thinks’ I want to say, than to complete the entire project.

Let’s face it:  This thing may be designed to do complex calculations faster than the average human mind; but it don’t have a smidgen of creativity in the whole of it’s ‘motherboard.’  In order to become a successful author, it is necessary to ignore these squiggly lines, as well as the bells and chimes that they emit, whenever it wants us to change something.

I suppose, in my case; the worst problem comes while I am composing my latest blockbuster; and have gotten to the part where the beautiful lady looks with passion, into the eyes of the young man and says, “Let’s go upstairs.”  It is right here that this “S.O.B.” beeps, and a drop-down menu reads; “Windows has detected an error and will shut down!”

“Tell me, Mr. Gates:  How can any of you expect a ‘budding’ author, to win awards by depending on such faulty equipment; that will not even respond to legitimate commands from a “world-renowned” writer.  It is emotionally degrading to try to work with a machine that don’t know the difference between, ‘shirt,’  ‘sheite,’  ‘sheet,’ and ‘sh*t.’

It is also depressing to try to create something worthwhile, when this damned machine simply won’t follow instructions.  I suppose that I, personally, will be required to forgo the creative process and rest on my laurels.  At least; my stubby ‘pencil’ and my ‘Blue Horse Tablet’  had more respect for me than this box of wires, bolts and dot-coms.

Alas: “If we, ‘seasoned writers’ have to depend on ‘trash,’ such as this; I am compelled to issue an urgent proclamation.”…:  “I will also ask that you remember that; You heard it here; FIRST!…”

“Ladies and Gentlemen:  It grieves me to the core; but I feel that I will be derelict in my duties; by failing to call to your attention;”  “If the current trend in ‘sloppy-manufactured’ business machines continues?”…. [“THE WORLD OF LITERATURE will be in a; ‘HELL-UV-A-MESS’]; 

If Modern Technicians do not rush to the scene; and put an end to this slaughter;  It is entirely possible that, The next string of T.V. commercials, offered by the manufacturers, could announce:  “Send $129.45, today; for your copy of our latest book, entitled;… ‘101 ways to entertain yourself when your Computer blows up in your face.”   “Have your credit card ready, and “CALL NOW!”

Adding insult – to injury;  A description of what could be the manufacturer’s  latest “C.D.” (working title - “FUTURE-15″). is mailed to us.  After months of harassing us;  “WE,” (the general public will, ‘hopefully),’ break down and spend our hard-earned money for a copy.  When received; we open the package and insert the C.D.  ‘(Here is our first mistake).’

*The small print that appears on the screen; ‘only’ after the package is opened. It reads; “We have no Earthly idea what this thing will look like; nor what it will do.”  “And we really don’t care; just so long as it out-sells all the other Manufacturers product.”  This is followed by another statement;  Just put that in your pipe and smoke it!”

The next string of T.V. commercials, could announce:  “Send $329.45, today; for your copy of our latest book, entitled;… ‘101 ways to entertain yourself when your Computer blows up in your face, “AGAIN.”  “Have your credit card ready, and “CALL NOW!”


Most of us ‘GENIUSES’ should respond with;  “We ain’t a-gonna do it, and you can’t make us.  NOW, YOU ;;;  Just put that in YOUR pipe and smoke it!”       Dj.

Training Bear.

For years; I wondered how some folks have trained their pets to be so smart.

I have been around dogs practically all of my life, but I have never been able to teach them anything that they did not want to learn.  After numerous failures, I accepted this and allowed different breeds the freedom to sponge off me for their “Din-Din of Champions” for years on end.

Occasionally, while surfing the T. V. channels,  I have seen the televised account of a man who has taught a dog to do everything short of reciting Shakespeare.  It looked so simple that I began to think this was my ticket to fame and fortune.

I would begin by training one animal and; once “CBS” & “NBC” aired a series called; “Demijon’s Wonder Dog;”  the entire world would beat a path to my door, and I would become famous.

I realized then, that if I attempted to teach our ‘star boarder,’ to do anything other than whatever he wishes to do; I would not have a camera, to turn off;’ if and when; the animal refused to co-operate.  “(Like I’m sure that guy on T.V. used).”  In other words: My training would have to be ‘live;’ or ‘under the cover of darkness.’ 

I glanced over at Th’ Bear, who was in a supine position on the couch; pretending to be in a deep slumber.  When I called his name, he opened one eye and wagged his tail twice.  I interpreted this to mean that he was considering my brainstorm to become rich and famous; but at his expense.’

I felt that I should begin his training with something simple, like fetching one of his favorite toys.  I retrieved his squeaky frog from the bin of hundreds of toys that he has displayed absolutely no interest in.

With the toy hidden in my pocket, I stood in front of the couch and squeezed the toy.  The sound caused him to open both eyes with a look that could have said,  “Why don’t you stretch out in that recliner like you usually do; and quit being so silly?”  Just leave me alone!”

Undaunted,  I tossed the toy to the other side of the room and said in a loud voice, “FETCH!  BEAR!”  He managed to raise himself, stretch, and jump down from the couch; but went toward the back door instead of searching for the toy.  He turned and looked at me with an expression that; “translated from Poodle-ese,” said…“Keep standing there, and your next chore will be to clean up the carpet.”  I’m not kidding.”  “I’ve got to pee-pee.”

Since I was apparently unable to get “This Canine’s”  attention,  I decided to ask the experts for help prior to my next attempts to train him.

The Veterinarian was quite explicit when he explained the instructive procedures used in training dogs.  “First and foremost,” he said, The trainer must possess more sense than the dog.”  Little remarks like that is the reason that ‘everyone simply despises him.’

For some reason, his remarks brings to mind a favorite expression that my third grade School Teacher used, while trying in vain to drill a smattering of education into my head.  She was prone to repeat these words, over and over.  Hence the origin of the term:  “Lazy is as Lazy does.”

It is here; that I will answer the many questions from guests, when they observe the two wash tubs full of squeaky toys sitting in the corner of our living room.  It’s really quite a simple explanation.  “Bear, The Wonder Dog;” has no time for trivial matters.  Especially those that tend to interrupt his daily routine of eating and sleeping.

Woe is me!


Pursuant to Th’ Bear’s request that we not get any more bright ideas; the Animal Channel has been deleted from our Television Remote Control.   Dj.