Show yourselves, guest compadres!
Here at Casa BondGirl we are under attack from little brown birds (small but there a lot of them, see) with striped white wings. They have some sort of vendetta against our elderly golden retriever George Rowe the Dog, Poster Boy for American Values, My Attorney. Throwing rocks at the branches under where the beaked menaces wait to perform their swooping does not seem to sway their hateful mission at all.
THE FUNCTION OF ART/2
The preacher Miguel Brun told me that a few years ago he had visited the Indians of the Parguayan Chaco. He was part of an evangelizing mission. The missionaries visited a chief who was considered very wise. The chief, a quiet, fat man, listened without blinking to the religious propaganda that they read to him in his own language. When they finished, the missionaries awaited a reaction.
The chief took his time, then said:
“That scratches. It scratches hard and it scratches very well.”
And then he added:
“But it scratches where there isn’t any itch.”
I’ll try not to scratch where there isn’t any itch.
UPDATE: Since George Rowe the Dog, Poster Boy for American Values, My Attorney, has been accused of trying to pass as a golden retriever, I feel the need to settle this matter. Yes, in the photo above, George has his short hair cut for summer and looks kind of like a lab. But this is what George looks like on a normal day. Except these days he’s usually running from brownish mockingbirds.
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