Factory Tails: Chapter 5 — Whisper or Scream
19 Apr 2012 1 Comment
in dogs world Tags: big blackie, black lab, factory lifer, gears, machines
“It’s all in your attitude, kid,” Harold, an imposing mixed breed of Clumber Spaniel and Great Pyrenees, said gently. “You can make that machine whisper or scream.”
The look on the kid’s face, a young Black Lab, didn’t display understanding.
Harold, a Big Blackie Lifer (over the age of 15 — well over: he was nineteen, as a matter of fact), tried again. “Fight the machine, or become one with it,” he explained. “Ever take a motorcycle at death’s angle around a curve?” Harold winked. “You’re one with the machine for those few seconds in that lay down position that can wipe you out if you don’t have the right grip, mentally or physically.”
A light appeared in the back of the young Black Lab’s dark eyes. His jaws hung open while his tongue lolled out the side of his smiley, white-toothed mouth.
“You savvy, kid?” Harold asked.
The youngster nodded his head and closed his mouth as he licked his drool. His ears flopped forward. “Yeah, yeah, got’cha. Yes, sir,” he said.
Harold smiled. He doesn’t have a clue, he thought. But he might some day. Anyway, the kid’s got possibilities. Any pup that could remember the words “yes” and “sir” in the same sentence when addressing his elders could not be all bad. He pointed a paw at the T-Boner press, a towering mass of iron, huge gears and gigantic wheels and pulleys. “Come on, kid. I can show you a trick or two about the T-Boner.”
Factory TAILS: Chapter 4 — Blah, Blah, Blah
22 Mar 2012 1 Comment
in dogs world Tags: marlboro, parts inspection, press operators, saint bernard, shepherd
Blah, blahing.
Loose Lips, a grand mixed Shepherd of great paws and a large head with big, unusually erect, pointy ears, hailed the shift supervisor.
Craning their necks and pricking their ears, the other press operators leaned into various angles, ready to catch the drift of a trouble call. At Loose Lips’ press, the red call light had been blipping for several minutes. Red lights alerted the shift supervisor that he was needed to check out an operational malfunction. A yellow call light signaled for a quality control inspector.
The shift supervisor, a very tall, thin St. Bernard, dragged on his Marlboro as he approached Loose Lips’ press, then said with disinterest from the side of his mouth, ”What’cha got, Melvin?” Melvin was Loose Lips’ given name.
Melvin Loose Lips responded with a gutteral rash of explanatory complaints on the current run of bad parts at his press: “Blah, blah, blah, blah…blah. Blah, blah…”
The super’s ears twitched forward. “Yeah,” he said. He lifted one part from the drop tray beneath the press and inspected it nonchalantly as Loose Lips continued to expound.
Loose Lips wiggled on his press chair. “Blah, blah…blah. Blah, blah…”
The super’s ears dropped half way. “Yeah,” he said.
Changing his position on the press stool, Loose Lips explained further: “Blah, blah…Blah. Blah, blah, blah.”
The super’s ears reached full droop. “Yeah.”
“Blah, blah, blah,” Loose Lips told his superior.
The super’s eyes glazed over.
“Yeah.” the super nodded droopily. “Yeah. Okay. Just keep running parts.” He turned away and padded off.
Factory TAILS: Chapter 3 – Japanese War Dogs?
02 Mar 2012 1 Comment
in dogs world Tags: beagle, big blackie, bow and arrow, corndogs, japanese war dogs, shepherd mix
Invasion of Japanese War Dogs?
Chapter Three:
In the countryside, there were whispers about a Japanese War Dog troop armed with weapons of mass destruction — the dreaded Bow and Arrow — coming down from The Sohoe on the pennisula and roaming the woods around Michigan Southwest Big Blackie.
The rumors began after a large party of weekend Corndog campers and picnickers disappeared in the woods near Lake Green. A bloody arrow tip and two broken shafts had been discovered there by another group.
The report said food left on tables had been ravaged, and several pup houses and adult tents had been damaged, ripped and stripped of rugs, supplies, and other foodstuffs.
“The canines themselves hunted down for food,” said Corndog Beagle-Old English Sheepdog mix Simon. He leaned on his hoe handle.
“You can ‘t be serious,” Simon’s Corndog field partner, Trapp, said. Trapp, a Shepherd-mix, scratched his head with his right hind toenails.
“It’s becoming a dog-eat-dog world, Trapp.” Simon gave Trapp a very serious look.
Trapp knew Simon to be a serious Corndog, nonjocular for the normally happy mixed breeds of Beagle and Old English Sheepdog. Simon’s opinions generally were proven to be correct. At any rate, it was a frightening prospect to think The Sohoe was making war moves, possibly rounding up food resources to sustain a marching army preparing for an attack. What else, Trapp wondered, could explain the disappearance of a woodsful of Corndog campers? But was The Sohoe powerful enough to threaten Big Blackie?
Factory Tails: Chapter 2 – “What’s Wrong?”
28 Feb 2012 1 Comment
in dogs world Tags: beagle, big blackie biscuits, pekingese, press operator, product sorting, t-boner press
Doggewood County, Ohio, home of Big Blackie Biscuits and Specialty Items, Inc. of Northwest Ohio
Chapter Two:
Pekingese Horace glared at Supervisor Beagle Felix, who had stopped at the T-Boner table to inquire about Horace’s piqued demeanor. “I’ll get maintenance over here to adjust the table, Horace,” Felix said with grand tones. Horace glared.
The T-Boner press produced the biscuits Horace was assigned to sort. The T-Boner was Horace’s usual second shift assignment, but as an operator, not a mop-up artist. Horace was good at running the T-Boner, not that any special recognition came his way. He felt the T-Boner press was his territory and actually had pangs of jealousy when a mutt was given the job instead of him. Horace had bid on the job a year ago when it had come open, and having been awarded the job, he should be on it, he believed. Right was right. That had been his aggravated thought every time he was denied the job. He knew they stuck a rookie on the T-Boner every now and then to annoy Horace and remind him of their Sirius-like authority. It was management’s way of putting down a dog who had brains enough to question procedure.
Management didn’t want dogs with brains, Horace thought grimly. They wanted dogs with work-like-a-dog mentalities. Work like a dog for us and we’ll give you retirement at some staid Golden Society kennel, while we eat elk and drink pure sparkling H2O and live upper crust like King Canis.
“What’s wrong, he asks,” Horace muttered. Humph! Everything at Big Blackie is wrong!
Factory TAILS: Chapter 1 -”What’s Wrong?”
26 Feb 2012 1 Comment
in dogs world Tags: beagle, biscuit factory, biscuits, corndogs, pekingese, press operator
Rescued!
Prologue:
What if dogs ruled the world? What if American canine champion purebreds and regular farming dogs — corndogs — squared off against each other for the only jobs there are in the factories and outlets of Big Blackie Biscuit and Specialty Items? What if the Big Blackie was ruled by the tyrannical Big Blackie Management Team Five?
Chapter One:
“What’s wrong?! This table! I can’t reach!” Pekingese Horace stood on hind legs to reach the top of a sorting table. The rectangular table was loaded with stacked biscuits that had to be sorted for chips and cracks, then reboxed. A typical situation, Horace thought as he glared at his Supervisor. His breed, Horace lamented, was always picked out to get the junk jobs at Big Blackie Biscuits and Specialty Items of Northwest Ohio, Inc. What dignity was there in searching through a corndog’s mistakes? It was part of the press operator’s job to catch these bad parts and scrap them out.
“You might be a bit more careful, Horace. We want whole biscuits, you know. It’s rather the point of this resort,” said Supervisor Felix, a large Beagle, as Horace continued to sling sorted biscuits into a clean packing box.
Horace hardened his glare, knowing to complain about a cheap-labor corndog was useless. Cornbred Sifty had run the T-Bone press on third shift. Cornbreds were considered none too bright by most purebreds, and Horace thoroughly agreed. Should have opted for the Sohoe Plant when I had the chance, he thought. “Can I get the table adjusted?” he asked sourly.
Names of Champions of Hoof and Paw
15 Feb 2012 1 Comment
in dogs world Tags: dog names, family names, horse names, malachy, pekingese, westminster dog show
Complaining about her name?
“Here, Cee-Cee Helberg Ohioan Gem of Kennel Rescue.” That’s what I called my rescued BT (Border Terrier) mix, Cee-Cee, this week in honor of the 136th Westminster Kennel Club Dog Show aired on February 13 and 14.
Did you ever wonder about the names you hear at dog shows? Tons of dogs of different breeds — six new ones this year — and type backgrounds have participated in the history of not only the Westminster show, but hundreds of shows everywhere, with names as long as trains. How does one call a show dog by name at home? ”Here, Albert Caspernium Lindstrom Romper Room. Here, Lady Cynthia Macadoom King’s Court Round Table.” “Here, Al; here, Cindy.” Much easier!
Every show has a Curtis, Jimmy, Bobby, Rocko and a Lady, Lulu, Ginger, Sue running around, all called by those nicknames for purposes of convenience. Verbally introducing every dog by his/her formal name would stretch the show into a full day’s affair. To be helpful to the television audience, the candidate’s family moniker is flashed on screen when he/she begins his individual show moment.
What about racing Thoroughbreds? Man o’ War’s namesakes, or his own progeny names could go on forever: War Admiral, War Clouds, War Passes, War Path, War This, War That. Good, strong racing names without complications. Then there are others like Is It True, Yes Its True, Stephen Got Even. We probably don’t want to go there to surmise meanings!
Oh, and Best in Show was…a walking loaf of long-haired bread named Malachy — a sweet little Pekingese.
Anak Nakal’s Regret Over Eight Belles’ Demise
14 Feb 2012 1 Comment
in race horses Tags: anak nakal, eclipse awards, eight belles, kentucky derby, nick zito, war pass
A rainy day at Churchill Downs.
Anak Nakal has taken up constant sniffling and head-hanging in the 2008 Nick Zito barn. War Pass, an Eclipse Two-Year-Old Male Champion now injury-retired and Chief counsel to the barn occupants, wants to know why.
WAR PASS: (firmly, on the stable’s telecommunications network) “Nakie, what’s wrong with you? This is the third race you’ve blown since the Triple Crown events (Kentucky Derby, Preakness Stakes, Belmont Stakes) ended.”
ANAK NAKAL: (in the corner of his stall sniffling into his hay rack) “I’m just feeling a little off, that’s all.”
WAR PASS: “Then see the vet!”
ANAK NAKAL: (sniffing) “I don’t need a vet.”
COOL COAL MAN: (laughing a low whinny) “More like a love doctor, he needs.”
WAR PASS: “What do you mean, Man?”
COOL COAL MAN: (mimicking Anak Nakal) “I’m just a fool for those dark gray coats.”
WAR PASS: (stunned) “What? Dark gray? Oh, no…Eight Belles (who broke down and died directly after the 2008 Kentucky Derby)?”
COOL COAL MAN: “Bingo!”
WAR PASS: ”Man, hush! Nakie, were you hay-dating Eight Belles before the Derby?”
ANAK NAKAL: (gazing ever downward) “I still think of her every day.”
STEVIL: (stamping his hoofs) “Ah, cripe!”
FIERCE WIND: (triumphantly) “Ha, I knew it!”
WAR PASS: ”Pipe down, everyhorse!”
ANAK NAKAL: (sobbing) “I bullied her in the Derby like you said to…I’m so remorseful…”
WAR PASS: “Nakie, she should have been in that silly Kentucky Oaks, not the Derby. Shake it off and get back on track. You did your job. This is racing, and racing is about winning, not whining!”
