Teardrop Fiction

[Ratkity]

GETTING CHEERED UP

I think I told you how I just visit the campgrounds on my normal route. My primary haunt is this old farmhouse at the end of the dusty dirt road. The cat lady, Granny, lives there. She is constantly being given abandoned litters of kittens to foster and raise. She always has a bunch of fur-kids underfoot. I was one of the few older cats she cared for. She is always good at making sure all kittens are healthy and well-fed and eventually, adopted to a good home. This horse doc friend of hers comes around to the house and give shots and checkups whenever she calls. No, I can't read the human words on his truck, but I know what a picture of a horse means.

Now Granny is a tiny woman and frail looking. Despite her size and stature, she runs a tight ship. I normally show up after she feeds the kittens and they are all sleepy in little fur piles around the house. If I time it right, I'll get to lick the gravy out of her TV dinner and sit by her on her comfy chair as she watches Jeopardy. I learned most of my human-speak understanding from her. I think she was an English teacher when she was a young woman. Sometimes she has a kitten on her lap. I'm a little too big to sit there, so I lay beside her. She's small enough and the chair is big enough for both of us to be comfy.

I knew something was wrong as I approached the farmhouse. All the kittens were crying and there was a big red and white vehicle with flashing lights in the front. I ran over in time to see Granny being taken out on a stretcher. I jumped up on the stretcher, which made all the humans stop. Granny said something about falling and her hip hurting bad. She gave me a head scratch and told me to take care of the kittens until the horse doc showed up. I knew then she wasn't coming back for a while. I immediately gathered all the frantic kids and tried to calm them down. After several tries to explain about Granny's injury, I gave up and I told them all stories about Dog and the Texan and the owner lady and the campground. That did the trick. Soon the horse doc arrived and started gathering up the kids. I took the opportunity to disappear. I knew he'd take care of each and every one of them.

After the horse doc left, I checked around to make sure no one was left behind. Satisfied, I decided to wander to the campground to see what Dog and the Texan were up to. I found the Texan asleep and snoring loudly in his lounge chair at the campsite. Dog was stretched out on faded Mexican blanket alongside the shaded area the teardrop camper.

I took the opportunity to look inside the tiny camper as both of the doors were left open. I poked around inside the tiny thing. Cozy. It smelled faintly of a combination of male human and Dog. Looked like the blankets and sheets were freshly washed. The Texan continued to snore loudly. Dog was watching me calmly as I settled down in the doorway, feet hanging over the edge, looking out. Not a bad setup, really.

Dog yawned and stretched a bit without really moving. "What's going on with you these days?"

For a canine, Dog is quite astute. I debated whether I should say anything about Granny. In the end, I told him the short version about Granny. I didn't want to make too big of a deal out of the whole thing. Emotional attachments to humans is a dog thing.

After listening to Tex snore for a bit I asked Dog how things were going in the campground. Dog's eyes gave a little twinkle and said, "Funny you should ask". He proceed to tell me about this stuff called Gorilla or Ape glue and what the Texan had done with it on the campground's male human litterbox door. Now Dog is one of those natural born storytellers. He gives little details without messing with the flow of the story - all while keeping you on the edge of your seat (or mattress, as it were).

As Dog sets up details about what the Texan was supposed to be doing as opposed to what he was asked to do by the owner lady, I knew this was gonna be a doozy of a story. Ho boy, I don't think I've ever laughed so hard. Dog just wouldn't stop! The story just got better and better. Even after the story was over, we'd both look at the snoring Texan and break into chuckles.

I learned that the owner lady was called Renee and the Texan did like to be called Tex. Dog yawned and that was my cue to meander up to the office. I bid Dog farewell and headed up to the office, still smiling about the story. I hoped Granny was getting some good supper wherever she was and watching Jeopardy. I felt my own stomach growl a little and wondered when supper was gonna be served as I went up the steps to the owner lady's deck. Looks like I'll be hanging around here a bit more.

[steve smoot]

Ratkity,

Thanks...I stand corrected...it's Bossman aka Boss, Tex and Dog that are now living in the same RV park....

Also, we need pictures in your album...

Steve

[Ratkity]

Boss is about 3 yrs old and I adopted him from the vet's office after my infamous Ratkity passed on a couple of months ago.

This was Boss's first day - His expression is "OMG, all for me? Serious?"



I have a few more picts of him, but have to get them off the camera. The old boy has a constant leaky eye, but I do my best to keep it clean. He's really a little lover kitty.

Hugs,
Ratkity

[steve smoot]

Ratkity,

We all love our pets around here...there is a thread where folks post pictures of their pets, so get them off the camera and post some more...

Steve

[queeniejeanne]

That is so great......so I've been off line here on this thread and must get back.......so very goooooood.....boss, tex and dog...who'd think up a sweet story like that...excellent! Queenie Jeanne

[Tumbleweed_Tex]

LIFE

Yesterday, immediately forenoon, having busied myself in the shop throughout the morning, I found myself relatively clean, surprisingly energetic, and notably hungry for something home-cooked and properly plated on a piece of real china.

Renee is out of town, attending one of those “pay us big bucks so’s you can find yourselfâ€

[Ratkity]

Yay!!! Tex is back!!

Hugs,
Ratkity

[Vindi_andy]

welcome back tex

Nice work as usual

[godskid]

Love these stories!! I like how the kitty story interweaves with the Tex N Dog stories, too. 'Please Sir, can I have some mooorre?"

[Tumbleweed_Tex]

THE SOAKIN’ TUB

Across the campground street from Renee’s raised-deck-back-porch is the neat little work/woodshop where Dog and I often hang out and pretend we’re busy. It’s comfy and cozy, with a cowboy installed refrigerator, recliner, and television, in case the rigors of the job become too…stressful.

If you venture out the back door of the shop, the neat orderliness of the Lucky Dozen quickly fades into untamed woods, or as my Yankee friends from up north might say…thick forest. There is of course, out that door and into those woods, a trail…which angles off towards the creek and serves the main purpose of accessing “the bushâ€

[Ratkity]

Excellent!!

Hugs,
Ratkity

[Cliffmeister2000]

FOSSIL HUNTING


I needed something to do. There was no internet in those days; heck, there weren’t even computers! I was tired of getting up and turning the knob on the black and white TV, trying to find something interesting on the 3 channels we got, courtesy of the 16 foot aerial mounted on in the crook of the eave of the house.

I gave up and drove down to the library. Wandering the halls, I happened on a section that had books of local interest. Hmmm… What could possibly be interesting in my part of San Bernardino County?

History, science, affluent families, a book about the Red and Blue lines (railroad lines that carried passengers between San Bernardino and Los Angeles). What is this? Archeology!

I opened the book, and there were maps of archeological finds in the area. One of the largest deposits of trilobites, it seems, was discovered in the southwestern portion of the Cajon Pass, below the Cajon and above Devore. Maybe a few miles South of the cutoff to Palmdale. I went to check the book out, only to find out it was not loan-able. I could, for an exorbitant fee, make a photocopy of the map, which I did.

I called my friend, Steve. Up for an adventure?

We loaded my 1961 Comet station wagon (affectionately called “Cheap Thrillsâ€

[queeniejeanne]

THE BLOND

The little blond, blue-eyed girl wound the ropes up tightly that were tied to the big sycamore tree limb attached to the board, rubbed smooth by hours of swinging use, and then she lifted her feet……..twirling, twirling, twirling, then the other way, twirling, twirling. When the swing finally died to a slow stop, she knew she should just sit there until the swirling head stopped swirling.
This was where she thought of the chores she had promised to do, looking up at the farm house and down to the barn and chicken house. Her job was to gather the eggs and feed the chickens. She also had to hold the bottle for the calf whose Mother wouldn’t let her feed at her teat. That calf had to make it and stay alive to get strong and healthy, if not then the little girl knew her family may have some hungry nights during the winter here in South Dakota. The vacate farmhouse beckoned, Mother and Father with her three brothers had taken the buggy into town to return very shortly. It was still early for her chores she thought so up to the house she ran, the screen door slamming behind her, the metal crossbars on the screen vibrating for seconds after she was gone from the room.
Into the room that was most private. The room that always beckoned when she was alone
or no one was close at hand to see her go thru that door.
Her parents were not poor, they were not rich like Mr. Bucanahan, but by no means were they poor like the Berry kids. Her parents had a whole room just to sleep. Very few in the small community of farms and in the town to the west had those. Her Father doted on her Mother. He built the house for her, with wide wrapped porches and real glass from back east. But what really had always caught her bright blue eyes was the locket kept in a compartment in the dressing table. Seldom did her Mother wear it but it always fascinated, glistening gold on a tiny chain, opening it and seeing Mother and Father in the picture. Placing the locket around her neck, how beautiful she felt……but then she remember the chores…running out the screen door with the crossbars on the screen vibrating for seconds after she was gone.
The beautiful blonde stepped out of her red convertible, swinging her hair around to the side. Her posture and stride told of her confident knowledge in her self worth and being. The house in front of her wasn’t much of a house. The wrap around porch was falling into itself and there were no windows left in the frames. What a place for the car to start acting up. No cell phone signal, no living being in sight. Walking thru the grown up area around the house, she saw barns, fences and holding pens, all in various stages of overgrowth and disrepair. Too bad, she thought, wondering who had lived here. She had always been curious about this area of the country. And now having made the wrong decision to drive to her appointment in Rapid City instead of flying from New York thoughts swirled through her head. She wondered how often people actually passed here. She thought back to how many vehicles had been on the road as she drove and thinking again, with growing concern in the pit of her stomach, that it had not been many, maybe 3 or 4 total. They were farm vehicles she knew from the water tanks and fuel tanks in the beds of the trucks.
What had possessed her to drive thru this desolate place? Why would she? Had there been a feeling, a familiarity with the country, with this part of the country in particular? Had she felt a tug, emotional or real, a tug on her heart and mind?
Finding a place to sit to wait on a passing car, she sat in a swing strung to a tree. Looking down where her feet had scraped into the sandy dirt, there was a shinning object. She reached down, picking up a gold chain with a locket attached. Very, very old, she knew. Opening it, a picture of a man and women. A man and women she recognizes as her great, great, great, grand parents. That same picture had been in an old book of tintypes when she was growing up. Her Father’s people, Mother said, who left New York, to find a better life out west. What was that tugging feeling, tugging at her heart or her soul! There it was again, only a feeling of comfort coming over her, along with it. She jumped up running to the car, with locket in hand, the car started on the first try. She drove into the next town to look for a realtor……………
Queenie Jeanne

[Tumbleweed_Tex]

You guys don't play fair...how can a cowboy hope to keep up?

[Ratkity]

Wonderful stories!!! I luv them all!

Hugs,
Ratkity