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So me and my dog Nutty Nunzi prance down to the beach for our usual morning workout and are surprised to see and feel it’s crazy warm! It must be 70 degrees already. It’s like a summer morning–but it’s February.
Yep, we’re really enjoying this unusual morning. But then I make a mistake. Make an off-hand comment. I jokingly mention that it looks like last week’s Punxsutawney Phil’s six more weeks of winter “statement” could be wrong.
And that got Nunzi to start growling and growling. Summer’s his fave season. All the better to go splashing in the ocean and cavorting all over his beach. Yeah, he was now getting himself all worked up in a lather of animal annoyance. He angrily exclaimed…
“Phil’s a fool. And who the hell put a dumb groundhog in charge of making the weathers?! I don’t want more winter. Summer warm is bestest.”
Yeah, I gave him the “nutty” moniker for a reason.
Of course I did attempt to correct his misconception that Phil “makes” the weather. But once Nunz gets his rants going in high gear–he can’t be tamed with logic. Or anything else. Just gotta let him go…
“Dogs would be so so so better at making weathers than stinky groundhogs. And dogs are lots cuter and peoples like us more too. Yeah, this dog’s gonna fix this!”
Huh? His fix? What the hell’s he talking about
“We’re gonna go to Pennsylvania land and I’m getting Phil fired!!! And, and, I’m gonna get his job. And I’ll get things all warm right away!”
Oh, boy. My crazy canine thinks he’s gonna replace Phil.
And he immediately commences to show and tell me that he’s gonna dig a real big hole–bigger and better than Phil’s stupid hole. And then Nunzi plans to jump out of his hole and say…
“I, Nutty Nunzi, doggedly declare that winter’s over! It’s summer time tomorrow! Warm weather shall appear!!!”
My dutiful dog says he’s going to work-out like crazy and get in prime digging condition. And he immediately starts demonstrating his fantastic hole digging abilities. Dig, dig, digging with purpose.
Now the one true, sane thing, I can honestly tell you about my fine canine–he might indeed be one of the best doggy diggers on the planet. No joke.
He will routinely dig massive holes over 5 feet long and over 2 feet deep. I kid you not. Within a few minutes, the hole will be so deep that you can’t even see that there’s a dog down there. People walking down the beach will just see a big blizzard of sand flying out of a big hole.
Some will have to stop in their tracks and say something like–“what’s going on? … is there a dog down there”? I nod, they come over, look inside and exclaim more stuff like…
“OMG – that’s hysterical – why does he do that? – is your dog crazy or what?” And laughter often ensues too.
Now I try to be supportive of most of Nutty Nunzi’s notions but right now I really need to consume coffee and food. I implore him to stop his important digging, just for now, and let’s get “breakfast food”. That phase breaks his silly digging spell. He licks his lips. Food brain trumps weather brain. And he stops.
I tell him we can come back after breakfast and continue practicing making real good holes, and brain storm the best procedures to get Phil fired, and get Nunzi crowned as the king of warm weathers. And get summertime going asap!
He nods. And we continue to thoroughly enjoy this winter summer morning as we prance back home.
The end. I mean, the end?? Likely not.