July 12, 2001

a poet dog

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I field-tripped to Munising today to run some errands.  As you can see by the time and temperature sign, we are enjoying cooler temperatures.  This photo was taken a few minutes past noon in downtown Munising under a beautiful blue sky.

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Many winters ago, when we had a coal furnace, I'd go down and shovel and put in some coal, bank the fire.  I went down there one night and there was a rat down there.  And I thought, "Oh, my God!"  So, I bravely went upstairs and closed the door quickly, and worried about the house freezing.  Finally I said, "Well, I have to go down and fix the fire."  And the rat wasn't there.  Well, now that isn't enough of a story.  So, I picture myself down there trying to get the coal with the long shovel and I don't go near the rat.  And I put it in and then I go up upstairs again and I call my friend with the hardware store and, even though it's Sunday, I get him to open up and I buy $10 worth of rat poison, which I bravely throw in from a distance to the rat, and it kills him. 

And I discover that I have nearly $9.75 of leftover rat poison, which I don't want around the house.  So, I get in the car and I drive to a neighborhood that I never go to normally and I just throw it out the window.  And then I hear later that the dog who used to howl at the moon, a poet dog, died from the poison and all the neighbors in that neighborhood have a theory as to which lousy neighbor poisoned the dog.  Of course, I'm quite a few neighborhoods away.

- Ken Nordine, Jazz Master

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