The first one was rather uneventful, but incredibly creepy.
“Christine vs. Silence of the Lambs”
It is when you are driving down the road on any given day. Enjoying the scenery, noticing Farmer MacGregor’s new Smokehouse, waving to the cows, especially the Guernseys. They wave back. And then it happens. In the approaching lane comes a car. It looks like Stephen King’s Christine, only worse. Like a 1959 Chevy Impala. Black. But not a nice one. It is sort of beat up and dusty. And the guy behind the wheel looks like a cross between Hannibal Lecter and Christopher Walken. And in that moment, you are certain that guy is some kind of a serial killer, but you have no proof. You are quite certain of it, in fact. But all you can do is to keep driving, and hope to never see the likes of him again. Then the wave of guilt splashes over you, for you know he is still on the loose. Waiting to strike again. But there is nothing…. nothing you can do. So you go right home and fix a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, pour a cold glass of milk, and watch a rerun of Threes Company. There, there.
The next movie was in title only.
“The Reindeer Games”
Tonight, I looked out over our meadow, and noticed three deer about a hundred yards away. Two moms and a fawn. They were running, and frolicking, and jumping about. It looked to me like they had a great game of Tag going. But I never think about deer in that way. Playing. How do they get to that point?
deer one: “I’m bored. We’ve been grazing about all day.”
deer two: “Game of tag?”
deer one: “Hell yes.”
deer two: “Good. Your IT.”
deer one: “Heeeeyyyyyyyyyyy. That’s not fair…..”
And those games did begin. I have never seen three deer so committed to playing. They carried on for more than 15 minutes, and I watched. I wonder if they go back to the den and play Bridge at night. Or Backgammon.
Our dogs. They are truly Wonder Dogs. Ollie has been so very good with Lewey. She is patient, and sweet, and playful, when she feels up to it. She has been such a good big sister. And then there is that Lewis. I crack up every time I look at him. He is such a little character. One minute, a sleeping angel. And then, the Tasmanian Devil in the next. He plays like a little crazy man. He runs through the house like thunder. How can 2.9 pounds sound like a wild herd of horses? And his guilty pleasure is a leaf. Any leaf. He loves to carry them around in his mouth. But most of the time, he simply wants to be loved. And when that little guy wants to snuggle, there is no stopping him. That is one of the best feelings in the world, when a little puppy curls up in your arms, and hugs you with all his little might.
Oh, movies. Yes. One of my favorite films ever, is when the dog snuggles the human. That scene gets me every time.
“I’ll do my best Santa.” — Rudolph the Rednosed Reindeer
“Is this Clarice? Why, hello Clarice.” — Hannibal Lecter
“When Polly’s in trouble – I am not slow – it’s Hip, Hip, Hip – and away I go! — Underdog