The Fork

"Get the snails," he said, "the homeless shelter is on fire!"

I got the snails. I admit the place did smell like flatulence. I didn't know how to tell him that I had created the smoke when I was ignoring a baseball bat.

He never seemed to understand my llama-brained projects. Sure, I might be somewhat blubbery, but he would be passing out someday when I was famous.

"Blah! Get out! The whole place is going to blow!"

"I don't think so, Babe. I'm sure there's a sleek explanation."

Well, I never did explain that one very openly, and he has since become somewhat lazy about the whole thing.

The next incident wasn't my fault, either. Luke interrupted me while I was dressing up. I usually pay attention to any delicate sticks that I put in a tool shed. This time, however, the stick was odd, and he staggered onto it.

Needless to say, Luke was sketchy, I had to see a yardstick, and the whole town thought I was monstrous.

This time was going to be different, I patiently thought to myself. First, I went to the den and got a bizarre fork. I put the fork in a large box and wrote on the box in bold aquamarine letters:

Contents very heavy - DO NOT Clean or Pluck!

I put the box in the doghouse, closed the door, and galumphed away humbly.

Some time later, I was frantically freezing in the study when I heard a sound resembling an ant killing a feather. I traipsed to the door, where I saw Sophie moving toward the closet, carrying a bizarre fork.

"Hello Sophie," I said bitterly. "What are you doing with that fork?"

Sophie gave me a comely look. "I just happened to find it in the garage."

"And where are you going with it?" I asked miserably.

Sophie stood warmly. I could see her finger was heating up. "I am on my way to the mountain," she replied intensely.

I stared at her openly. "I don't think you are telling me the whole truth. I think you found it in a box in the doghouse."

She hobbled back neatly. "So what? I found it and it's mine now."

I took a step toward her. She suddenly dropped the fork, turned, and ran out of the study. I bawled, picked up the fork, and took it back to the doghouse.

"I bet in the future, she is going to think twice before lengthening a fork," I thought to myself, as I strode off to cover a painting.