“May we introduce ourselves?”

“Hello, Madam. My name is ‘Missy’ and I am a thoroughly delightful mix of the most admirable canine species known to man– heavy on the adorable Black Lab. And this is my Dear Friend Rocky, a vicious– though quite lovable– Staffordshire terrier, also known as a Pit Bull.”


“Oh for crying out loud, Missy. I know who you are.”

“Well, Madam, you’ve been away from the Farm so long we weren’t sure you would remember us so we thought it best to formally introduce ourselves.”

“Thanks for that, girl. Don’t you know, I could never forget you. But for goodness sake! Please stop calling me ‘Madam’.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”


“That is pretty funny, Rocky. Now. I thought about you every waking moment– and most moments were waking ones– so rest assured I didn’t forget you. What have you been up to in my absence?”


“Oh, I know. He’s a wonderful friend, isn’t he? Taking y’all to the Pasture every chance he had.”

“Oh, yes! Master Mike… errr… I mean… oh, but he hates ‘Dr. Mike’… . Mike is so much fun!”


“And the Big Food you missed, Marica! I must tell you, my Dear Friend and I have become quite fond of the manly food Mr. Big Food cooks when you delicate creatures of the fair human sex are not around. That … umm… “

“Ruff. Ruff?”

“Oh! That’s it! Thank you my Friend. That ‘soul food’ was a sight to behold. It was all I could do to keep my wild side in check while those neck bones were grilling.”

[redacted in deference to Miss M]


“That sounds… well, I wouldn’t characterize neck bones as ‘delightful’ but sounds like something Mike & Mr. Big Food would enjoy.”

“They did, Marica. They did. Now, enough about us. What in Heaven’s name kept you away for so very long?”


“We had to go to Jackson.”


“It’s a city– of a certain sort– down south of here, Rocky.”

“And what, pray tell, is the attraction of Jackson?”


“Oh for goodness, sake. I am not a poet. If I were, I’d know it. Please stop interrupting. You know how she can go on and on once she gets started. Don’t encourage her.” 

“Miss M, Daughter C, and I went down to Jackson to observe the effects of heavy metals.”


“It’s an oblique reference.”

“Heavy metals. Hummm. So you went to see an ’80s band?? That’s so cool, Marica! I had no idea you were into that. That’s so cool.”

“Good Lord, Missy! What in the … .”


“Don’t you remember? You gave me a dictionary of culturally relevant slang? I’ve been studying it, man. I know metal.”

“Well. Good for you!”


“It must have been some concert, dude! I was on the patio, man, when you (finally) returned home. Miss M looked a bit pique-ed. Is she alright? Oh! My! Oh, Marica!!??? Ohhhhh… NNNNNOOOOOOOoooooo.”

“Ruff? RUFF!! Ruff!!????? RUFF.”

What? What? I’m trying to get to sleep. What are you two prattling on about?”

“Well. We are putting two and two together, Marica. We are smart dogs, you know. We can weigh the evidence. We read Sherlock. We watch House. We can draw conclusions.”

“And what, pray tell, do you conclude, my little slueths?”

“Elementary, Marica. You went to a heavy metal concert + Miss M looked pique-ed upon her return home = Miss M took drugs at the concert.”


“Good grief.”

“We take that as acknowledgment that our conclusion is correct?”


“Good griezzzzzz.” 

“‘Good grease? What’s she talkin’ ’bout, Rock?”