MY STREET HAS GONE TO THE DOGS: PUBLISHED IN A GROUP OF NEWSPAPERS

                                        MY STREET HAS GONE TO THE DOGS

                                        ANOTHER STREET HAS GONE AFOUL

                                                        

                                                

                                    

                                        

 While driving down my street, I saw a coyote.  It was strutting towards my car making it clear that it would not get out of the way. In fact, this coyote went eyeball to eyeball with me as if to say, “What are you looking at, buddy.” I had read that coyotes were shy of humans, but that was before they came East and learned how to read. They definitely knew that Lexington persons were generally not gun toters and leaned liberal. 

                                           Not many months ago, I was busy on my computer.

It was late and I was ready for bed. Just as I was about to close up, a bat flew very close to my head.  I quickly climbed the stairs and awakened Dana.

                                       “ We have a bat in the house,”

                                        “ What am I supposed to do about it?” murmured Dana.

                                         “ I’m not going to sleep with a bat in the house, I’ll call the police.”

                                           The policeman’s response was, ”What am I supposed to do about it?”

                                        The next day I called our exterminator and set a date. By the time the exterminator arrived on the scene the bat had fled. However he noted, we had a lot of squirrels and chipmunks.”

                                         “ I can get rid of those pests if you want, he mentioned. “I’ll

spread a little fox urine and you’ll not see them again.”

                                         Two days later, I was looking for my garden shovel in our shed.

There in the shed was a very handsome fox asking me, “What are you doing in my villa?” Evidently the urine was of the female variety. I had heard that mostly

fox were afraid of humans. However, I was afraid this particular fox might mistake me for his long awaited lover.

                                           I called the exterminator. “ We don’t exterminate fox,” he said.

                                          “ You brought him here!” I screamed.

                                           “ Okay, okay,” he yelled back, “but you’ll have to live with the

chipmunks and squirrels.”

                                           I sighted the fox a few more times. He no longer was going into the shed, his villa, but rather slinking and sniffing through my yard. He spotted me and threw me a disgusted look making it clear that I was far from his fantasy fox.

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                                          The reporter from the Gazette walked into the local coffee shop, looked around and said to no one in particular. “Does anyone here know anything about a rooster named Rudi?” My paper, if you can believe it has sent me on assignment to find out all I can about this rooster.”

                                          A few heads turned from the counter to check out the reporter.

                                         “I hate that bird ! He thinks he’s so smart. But he doesn’t even know the time of day. He doesn’t care when he cock -a -doodles. Usually it’s the middle of the night.”

                                         “He knows alright. He’s just a mean spirited rooster. He couldn’t be happier about waking us. I’ve spotted him after he’s awakened us. Meanest grin I’ve ever seen.”

                                        A middle age woman commented, “I used to feed him when he came by my shop. I’d save half my sandwich for him. Usually it was hummus or eggplant. He always ate nicely and seemed to enjoy our luncheons together. One day I had egg salad. Well I never! He squawked like I was trying to kill him, maybe too much mayo. Now he walks by my store with his beak in the air.”

                                       A young man turned to the reporter and said, “Nobody and I

mean nobody could catch that bird. He’s way too smart, but I hear tell that some character is driving over eight hundred miles with multiple plans to catch that bird.”                 

                                 The reporter smiled and said, “What’s your luncheon special today? I hope it’s not chicken salad.”