A New Security Force, In The Company of Dogs & Cats, The Black Panther A True Story, Things That Make Me Shiver, Sophia When She Scurries, Reunions Gone By, Cherry Trees & Time.

Greeting to all and welcome new friends to the EastWing.

They’re about 10” long and exude more energy than you’ve seen in a long time. As most of you know, Homeland Security at the EastWing is provided by Pit Bull Inc.  Seems that Pit Bull Inc. has hired on two additional employees.

Their names are Sharolette and Barbara. Weighing in at 3.5lb and 4.5lb, respectively, their paws are soon to be registered as lethal weapons. Their breed is destined to be the next breed labeled by society as “killer dogs”. This breed, will soon take its rightful place  alongside the likes of German Shepherds, Dobermans, Rottweiler, and Pit Bulls as “killer dogs”. By now I’m sure you figured it all out.

Yup, you’re right Mr. Bentleys newest employees of Pit Bull Inc. are two Killer Beagles. Tri colored little girls who have already mastered the fine are of “licking ya to death”. And soon to acquire other equally deadly skills, such as chewing your shoe to pieces, destroying pillows, and  beating you to death with their tail. Life in the EastWing has forever changed with the introduction of Sharolette and Barbara. Killer Beagles. Sharolette and Barbara, girls in my life.

Thank you one and all for the kind words and thoughts on the early demise of Miss Black Baby. And also for your kind thoughts in remembrance of Mustina, the Pup Baby James. Over a year, and you still remember the Pup Baby. And so do I, yes Lord, so do I. Thirteen years of love and friendship from the Pup Baby. Precious Memories.

It seems somewhere along life’s highway, you choose to live in the company of pets or not. For those who choose not to do so, you can’t comprehend the pain when losing a pet, be it accidental death on simply the sands of time.

I’ve forever lived in the company of both dogs and cats. Loved ‘em all, and cried when the left me. Preached their funerals and swore that I’d never have another pet that would break my heart when they died. Then got another within a month or so to fill the void deep within my soul. And so it is today, I find myself in a position where I know the lifespan of my dear Gray Lady James, my beautiful old bird dog, is well beyond life’s expectations. The time I have left with the Gray Lady, is truly a gift from God. Such  gifts don’t last forever.

And so it is that the two little Beagle Girl Dogs have come into my life a little early. They too are a gift from God. Girl dogs are like that, yeah they are, gifts from God. Now for those folks who have never had a pet and now maybe thinking about getting one. You can skip over all that sadness part of having your pet die, by getting yourself a pet turtle in the first place. Turtles live a hundred years. So you don’t have to worry about ‘em dying of on ya.  Turtles don’t cry when people die. I don’t know if people cry when turtles die, I’ve never had a 100 year old turtle. If I did, I’d probably cry, preach its funeral, and get another turtle. But I don’t do turtles. Did ya ever try playing with a turtle? Gotta play slow, really slow.

Yes, the story about the Black Panther was true. I did operate a Clinical Laboratory at 1150 N State Street in Chicago back in the 60’s and I did in fact identify pathogenic organisms that made the Big Boy sick. I was so surprised to receive an email from an EastWing visitor who remembered the Big Black Panther from when he was a kid visiting the Zoo in the Park. Just another example of “it’s a small world”. I have to say, when I was doing the laboratory analysis of the Black Panther specimen, I sure never even dreamed of the EastWing, or Billy Carter.

It kinda makes me feel good when someone tells me that they never thought anything about those ugly birds, those big ugly birds, those Vultures, until I pointed out their place in this world. Then they thought about ‘em and decided I was right. God did put ‘em here for a purpose, and they just didn’t realize the importance of the purpose. And they were glad that I watched ‘em at work and talked about it. WOW! It’s things like that, that makes me shiver.

Just so everybody’s on the same page here. I don’t do fiction. When it comes from the EastWing, it’s the gospel according to BobbyRay. From time to time I’ve been accused of writing fiction. That’s never been the case. I do embellish  details. Embellished details are important in order to see the whole picture in your mind. After all, I project  pictures from me to you, by way of fingers, to keyboards, to internet, to your computer, to screen, to you. It’s only then that the whole story can be told.

With that being said, I don’t do fiction. I just tell the stories that paint the pictures in your mind. It’s kinda like show and tell, using the internet in place of a class room. And a lot more fun. I’m not sure if I paint your picture in color or not. They’re in color when they start. I don’t know if they’re color when they finish. I expect you’ll let me know about that.

Scurry, that’s what Sophia does when she goes outside and comes back into the house. Not that Sophia must go outside to maintain her royal lifestyle. After all, Sophia has inside plumbing, and a bed fit for a king, or in her case, fit for the Queen.

When Sophia chooses to go outside, she tells me so. That little cat will get between me and the keyboard, look me square in the eye and meow a special way. I say “Want to go outside?” She runs to the east EastWing door and smiles. And you all know Sophia when she smiles.  When she’s done with the outside adventure, she comes back to the same door she exited the EastWing, stands and waits until I look her way. When Sophia’s outside, I look often. When I see her outside, I open the door right away and that’s when Sophia scurries inside.

What’s interesting is when Spike The Man Cat comes in from being outside, he comes in the door in slow motion. As if he has all the time in the world. Sophia comes thru the door like she’s trying to catch the Last Train to Clarksville. Damn Republican Cat, scurrying and all.

Ya ever heard the saying “time flies”? Well so have I.  Seems I just graduated from high school and a 50th year reunion came along last year. Times flies. On the 1st day June, at Grand Central Station, this year we held a 50th class reunion for those who have graduated from high school after me. What the hell! Time files. Shewwwww.

Started on a new adventure the second day of June. Growing Cherry Trees, yup, Cherry Trees. The She came home with the world’s best tasting cherries. And I didn’t ever like cherries. So I saved the seeds and now find myself in the “pre-tree” stage of cherry tree production.

n-line research provided me with the Cherry Tree Production Game Plan. It turns out that producing cherry trees from seed, pretty much mirrors the efforts put forth with my venture into the production of an orange grove. As you may recall, the orange grove project was to free the EastWing from the clutches of the foreign orange juice market.

That orange juice project was on track until such time the She, with all the good intentions in the world, bless her little heart, over fertilized the seedlings and my dreams of orange juice independence from the world market went slip sliding away. Thank God for back up plans. I now look at the orange tree back up plan and see a single 2ft  orange tree in the EastWing, forever reaching to the sun. No fruit yet , just a  happy little tree of  orange, smiling back at me.

The cherry seeds first have to be tricked into thinking they have endured a winter season. To produce a cherry tree, you have to be smarter than a cherry seed. I outsmarted the little fellers, put ‘em in the refrigerator for 90 days. When I bring ‘em out they’ll think it’s been winter. Then I’ll plant ‘em in the dirt. Some will grow, some will not. Oh well, everyone has then had their chance at becoming a cherry tree of the EastWing.

Don’t know why I like to grow trees from seed,  just do. Maybe it’s a life after death thing. I plan on living only another 50 years or so. Then it’s only the trees that I’ve left behind, and of course, Sophia, The Damn Republican Cat.

Stay safe in Afghanistan.

From The EastWing, A New Security Force, In The Company of Dogs & Cats, The Black Panther A True Story, Things That Make Me Shiver, Sophia When She Scurries, Reunions Gone By, Cherry Trees & Time.

I Wish You Well,