Tonight I am almost too tired to write. But certain symbols of mundane everyday life keep passing by the eye of my mind. I know until I indulge myself sleep will elude me. So now I must banter on about something as strange as parantheses on a woman's face...one on each side, a perfect closure for a mouth much too wide.
Some say I am too fixated on dog walking. I worry about my own Scottish friend, and the cow dog up the street, a small chihuahua flouncing about the parking lot, and a tiny mixed luxury dog enduring trip after trip to Marek's Vet Clinic, hastily ratcheting up a huge bill for its owner.
I know how angry and confused the dogwalking crowd feels; often I am in that box myself; however, I don't cater to purveyors of child pornography, or old witches intent on the destruction of innocent life.
This week a Court in Houston sentenced some pervert to 200 years for child pornography. His sentence made me smile...I hope our local accused pervert (Stephen Wayne Sudduth) suffers a fate even more harsh. All of this in the shadows of our local school, imbedded in the community, a part of each person walking the dog.
As for me, the people who love me know I am simply "kicking the can." I rarely "walk the dog," unless it is understood I am pulling a load...then, indeed, I am "walking the dog."
Can all of this be the route to success? Can you bypass a college loan, or shun learning a valuable vocation, and simply walk the dog into financial security buffered by taxpayer money? I think it's possible...at least in Sealy.
Good night you fellow can kickers...I love you!
