On 8 July, Char writes:
Joey wants you to know . . .
. . . in case you've just read the story featuring that new kid, Fergus (upstart, pipsqueak of the FRIDAY 13TH Rescue Mission, viewable HERE), and think he makes good copy, I'm here to tell you that he's nothing but a dilettante, a poseur. I, and I alone, am the real deal, the source of unending tales of mystery & intrigue. Take today, for example.
Kizzie & I got into a little tiff this morning while Mom was getting ready for work. Nothing big. If she'd let us alone, we would have worked it out. After all, what's a missing ear here & there amongst Cairns?
Anyhow, she decided to separate us for the day, leaving me in the upstairs bedroom. Boring. I can look out the sliding glass doors, but nothing's happening in the backyard. The happening stuff is out the front window. You know, street stuff, like the mail carrier, the UPS delivery guy, people & cats walking along the street. And I'm missing all that.
The street side window is like 3 or 4 feet up off the floor. I'm a big guy, but not that big. But wait . . . the headboard! It's right under the window, and it's wide enough for me to sit on and look out the window! But there's already stuff up there, a telephone, a clock-radio, a paraffin wax bucket type container. (Mom sticks her hands in it because she says it helps her arthritis. I don't believe it. I think she does it because it makes her hands soft.)
Well, this room could stand redecorating. Off with the telephone! (No body ever calls me, anyway.) The clock-radio? I don't have any use for the clock, but I like listening to the radio, so it can stay. I really don't like all that NPR stuff Mom leaves playing, so I'll just change the station to something a bit livelier. Ah, ha! Who Let The Dogs Out! My kind of music.
Now for the wax thingie. Geez. It sure is heavy. This may take some work. Push. Grunt. Shove. Grunt. Push again . . . and there she goes! Wow! Look at all that wax! All over the bed, the bedside table, and all over the brand new hardwood floors that Mom had installed a couple of weeks ago. She is going to be so happy, and so proud of me! She said that wood floors would need wax. Look at all the trouble I've saved her!
And you see that book in the picture with me? I think she liked it. Now she has it preserved in wax, and it should last forever! Am I a good boy, or what? And, I have the perfect perch. I'll just sit here until Mom comes home. I can't wait to see the expression on her face when she comes in. Let's see that new kid match this!
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