11 June 2007

Farmer Sausage

The Hammer has been more like my first dog Strangler than I thought she might be. Often when I sit down down to check my mail, check the race results or write she attacks me. She does not like watching me sit around drinking and exercizing my fingers. She wants me to join her exercizing her legs and kind heart in the wind and rain. The Hammer has no lazy bones.

Strangler was just like that. People used to say to me, "Hey Beer you stoned bastard you. I saw you and Strangler on the other side of Sliverville. What the fuck were you doing out there?" When I told them we had walked the several miles across town they thought I must be on the downtown Sliverville diet - methamphetamines and more methamphetamines.

Strangler was real handy for a city dog. She walked ahead of me and sat down to wait for me to catch up to her at lights. And she did not take any shit from guard dogs gone astray.

Today the Hammer and I explored the last stretch of a new-to-us trail system. There are lots of farms and farm animals along the trail to give us something to look at and smell. There are wee rabbits that like to play hide and seek with the Hammer in the tall grass. Since the weather is on the warm side there are a few people for us to share the trail with.

One of the people we shared the trail with today was a big boned German looking woman. There's lots of women like that around Steepleton. They are all ass. I think that is because of all the farmer sausage they eat. This particular woman had a doberman and a weimanarer. The dogs were named Offence and Defence. If the Germans had any sort of creativity they would have won every World War they contested. The Hammer did not even stop to have her butt sniffed.

Farmers sure do have a lot of shit in their yard. The one farm we passed today had broken down machinery rotting in it since the '50s. If I had that kind of room I would still have my first car hiding in the long grass reminding me of all the crazy shit I did in it. That was the car I coaxed Strangler into when I rescued her and began collecting dog stories.


Nicole said...

I like your dog stories.
Reading about the farmer stuff sure made me think of all the graveyards here filled with old clunky machinery too.

Nicole said...

hey, is that your pic on the right hand side?

Mr. Beer N. Hockey said...

The picture is not of me, it is one of the guys from spiff rock 'n' roll outfit No Means No. I figure the picture looks like what people would think I look like. I sure would like that hat.

No Means No and their more Beer-oriented incarnation, the Hanson Brothers, are heard for miles and miles at Victoria's better society wing-dings. By all means go out, buy all their records, memorize the lyrics and sing them to your children.