quarantine shorts

Quarantine Shorts

topdogTime Wasters

As the pressures of quarantine drag on, my low-grade irritation with tyrannical government has become finely focused into a burning hatred of all politicians. That and seasonal allergies have combined to distract me from what has now become, through the process of elimination, my only real job: to provide free blog content without any hope of remuneration.

With that in mind, and with my head all fuzzy from allergy meds, here are a few short items with no connecting theme.

Broken Leg Moose

lame moose

I felt really bad, but how do you help a lame moose?

This was an injured moose. We had been encountering it nearly every day on our morning walks. It's right foreleg was injured and it could barely walk.

My wife first saw it with a newborn calf, and both seemed fine. The next time I saw it, it was limping and there was no calf. I suspect the calf was attacked by predators and she was injured trying to protect it.

For the next week or so, I tried to avoid it, hoping it would hobble off somewhere far enough away to not be a concern after it died.

Unfortunately, it died a couple days ago just a few hundred feet from the house, in a deep ravine.

The crows and scavengers are going at it every day. We're trying to keep the dogs away but the smell is going to hit us as the weather warms.

It's going to be fun times out here in the country.


Cramps

Scene: In the evening after a day working outside pulling brush and cutting wood. We're watching TV. I am laying on the couch, The Missus is in the easy chair.

I make an adjustment laying on the couch, and suddenly double over in pain as a cramp strikes my inner thigh.

Me: "AAAAGH! My leg! WHAT THE F-!"

The Missus turns and stares at me.

Me (in my contortions, I fall off the couch, causing another cramp in the inner thigh of my OTHER leg): "AAAAAAAGH! MY LEGS! OH! GOD DAMN!! IT HURTS!!!!"

The Missus (watching me rolling on the floor clutching at both my inner thighs): "Are you serious?"

Me: "YES! BOTH MY INNER THIGHS HAVE CRAMPED UP! GAAAAGH! IT HURTS LIKE A SUMBITCH!!! AAAAGH!"

The Missus (turning the TV sound up): "Well, I don't know what you want me to do."

Me (still writhing in agony): "WELL FOR STARTERS YOU COULD THROW A LITTLE SYMPATHY MY WAY! AAAAAGH!!"

The Missus (turning back to the TV): "You think that hurts, you should try giving birth to a child."

Me: "YOU HAD A C-SECTION!"


Tax Day

Today is Property Tax Day. On this day we traditionally file our yearly property taxes (either in half or in full). I wish there were more to this day – something festive that we can all participate in. I mean, financially plundering and raping the futures of common citizens to fund massive overspending and pet projects (college courses on Non-Binary Juggling anyone?) seems to call for some special civic event.

My proposal: Every year we ritually disembowel the elected official who raised or proposed raising taxes the most.

Pour encourager les autres.

nonessential

About the Author

topdog

Topdog is Steve Merryman, a graphic designer (retired), and illustrator. Living in the woods, Steve can often be found working on portrait commissions. In his spare time he paints, writes, shoots guns, cuts trees, hikes with his dogs, savors a beer or two, and searches for the perfect cheeseburger. He studiously avoids social media and is occasionally without pants.

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