Lost in the Blinded Blizzard Read Online Free PDF Page A

Real quick.
    Okay. I hit the deck, so to speak, and launched my posse of teeth and went after that sneaking, overbearing little pipsqueak of a flea.
    It might surprise you to know that dogs—even your higher bred blue-ribbon top-of-line cowdogs—have places on their bodies that cannot be defended against drilling fleas. It’s true. A flea that strikes near the base of the tail cannot be stopped by ordinary means.
    I had to go to extraordinary measures to combat this dog-eating flea. “Excuse me just one moment, Beulah, I have this . . .”
    After running in circles and chasing my hiney for several seconds, I realized that I would have to change tactics. That microscopic flea was armed with a six-foot drill bit, fellers, and he was doing incredible damage to my body!
    You’re probably thinking that the cause was lost, that the alleged flea had succeeded in running his eight-foot tempered steel diamond-tipped gigantic drill bit through the entire length of my body, causing my precious fluids and liquids to leak out on the ground.
    Is that what you thought? Well, you’re in for a big surprise. As the old saying goes, “It’s always darkest before it gets any darker.”
    What that flea didn’t know about cowdogs was that when Emergency Defense System One fails, we don’t quit. We initiate Emergency Defense System Two and go right on fighting!
    We have our tricks, see. Many tricks. Tricks that no flea has ever thought of.
    Okay. You’ve got a flea drilling you from behind. You’ve launched several waves of tooth posses and they’ve been repealed. Repelled. And it appears that the situation is hopeless. You’ve been struck a deadly blow in a bodily zone that cannot be defended by conventional means.
    So here’s what you do. You sit down and lift both hind legs off the ground and raise them to a 45 degree angle. This concentrates all the weight of your body upon a small area near the base of your tail—which just happens to be the same small area where the pain, the terrible pain, is centered.
    With the weight of your body concentrated over the area of pain and misery, you are ready to begin the most difficult part of the procedure. Pay close attention because I’ll go over it only once.
    Back legs up, tail down, weight on back end. Now, scoot forward, using front legs to pull rest of body around in a small circle, some 3–4 feet in diameter. Repeat the procedure two or three times, as necessary.
    I’ll admit that, to an outside observer, a dog going through this procedure might appear a little silly. And it might have looked even sillier because, while I was attacking the flea problem, Mister Spasms-of-the-Heart was still rolling around on the ground.

    But silly or not, my procedure worked, and nothing works better than something that works.
    Okay. At last I had conquered the flea problem and rubbed him off the face of the earth, the hateful little snot, and was ready to turn my full attention back to the Department of Love.
    I jumped to my feet, gave myself a good shake, and threw my gaze back to the pickup bed.
    â€œExcuse the little diversion, Miss Beulah, but I’m sure you can . . .”
    HUH?
    Bird dog? A spotted bird dog?
    That made no sense at all. Miss Beulah was a collie, not a . . . oh, it was HIM. Plato the Spotted Dumb-Bunny Bird Dog.
    And he was laughing.
    â€œBy golly, Hank, that was one of the funniest routines I’ve seen in years!”
    â€œIs that so?”
    â€œRight. It was terrific! I don’t know where you keep coming up with your material.”
    â€œIt’s pretty awesome, I guess.”
    â€œRight, it sure is, and Beulah loved it! I mean, she just loved it. I haven’t seen her laugh so hard in years. Why, she’s flat out on the floor right now.”
    â€œIsn’t that wonderful.”
    â€œBy golly, yes! You have a tremendous sense of comedy, Hank, and I mean that