The Sad Tale of the Laura Carnivore......

As a species we tend to be collectors.

This is not the case with other mammals.

It’s unlikely that you find a gorilla toting around his Star Wars action figure collection from when he was just a little scruff swinging through the jungle.

And never mind a dog.

As George Carlin always said, “Dogs don’t have stuff!”

But us humans?

Boy howdy, do we ever!

You name it and somebody, somewhere collects it.

Usually this is not a horrible problem.  Unless you go overboard and then you end up on “Hoarders”.

I went to the Del Mar Fair one Summer and there was a display in the hobby show where a woman had collected and categorized all of the parasites that she had removed over the years from her CHILDREN!

(I am not making this up)

There were little beakers of fleas and lice and even pin worms….

I have no words.

The visual image of chasing little Johnny around with a pair of tweezers to capture his fleshy insect remoras is permanently etched into my brain.

If you do this, please stop immediately and call the local mental health clinic.

NEWSFLASH!

THIS IS NOT NORMAL!!

As for me, I have a few things that are a little off kilter but not too bad.

But sadly this past week something happened that made we rethink some of the things that I DO have.

I had a box of my daughters possessions from when she was a little tike (she is now 23), and amongst the archaic goodies was a Little House on the Prairie stuffed doll.

Now for any of you who do not know, they made these cheap knock off dolls to placate all of us working stiffs who could not afford the “Marie Osmond” collection on QVC.

About 12 inches long.

Pioneer dresses and bonnets.

Little pantaloons.

Cute.

Probably purchased at “Pic N’ Save”.  (now known as Big Lots)
 (I liked Pic N’ Save better)

But unbeknownst to me, apparently these little gems were stuffed with this old fashioned nuclear cotton that can explode the bowels of a dog in seconds flat.

Scary, considering that your little human rug rat could possibly have gnawed one of them open with his newly sprouted incisors.

Now for any of you that have not read my blog before, I happen to own two pesky hound dog puppies.

Dex is a “killer” male Min-Pin who weighs in at 4.5 pounds, reminds me of Bambi and Leeloo is a Chihuhua/Boston Terrier mix female mutt who is a muscular 8 pound perpetual ball of energy.

Exhibit One:  The perpetrators......

Their sole purpose in life is to drive me crazy, leave their poopy calling cards all over this land and to devour everything in my house, piece by slobbery piece.

So I made the mistake of thinking I could slip into the shower for a few minutes and the dynamic duo took this opportunity to chew through the side of a bankers box, yank out “Laura Ingalls Wilder” and gobble down her frontal lobe.

And the top of her bonnet.

And the front edge of her apron.

Exhibit Two. The victim......

Note the gray brain matter sprouting from her tiny skull.

And we all thought Nellie was her only enemy!

When I arrived on the crime scene, little Dex was clasping her body in his tiny jaws and looking sheepish.

Or "Dexish" as the case may be.

I thought he was the perpetrator.

I was wrong.

He was framed.

I know this for a fact because the next day, little Laura was reincarnated into a different form, allllll around Leeloo’s kennel.

The likes of which you must wipe off your shoe if you are not careful strolling at the park.

What transpired over the course of the next few days was something I wouldn’t wish on anybody.

I now truly understand the expression, “sick as a dog.”

A trip to the vet.

“Ma’am, WHAT did you say she ate?’

Two different medicines.

And a whole lot of hosing things down.

Good times.

But the funniest thing that happened during this debacle was when I tried to feed Leeloo some turkey and vegetable baby food during her rehab phase and she looked at me like I was offering her a bucket of swill.

Seriously?

“You will munch down the innards of a 20 year old doll brain and not bat an eye, but refuse this Gerber delight?”

It was kinda funky.

Smelled like the inside of her kennel on day two.

No wonder that Gerber baby has that goofy look on her face.

So I guess I need to rethink the stuff I am saving in all of these boxes.

But I will definitely keep that box of baby teeth that the “Tooth Fairy” gave me which came from under my children’s pillows.

I just might want to enter them next year in the hobby show at the Del Mar Fair.

……..I’m just sayin’