I have been very anxious to read the first edition of The Chris†Wire Handbook. I read some of the articles to the kids at the library for “Reading is FUNdamentalist” story hour. The librarian asked me if I would like to donate my copy for the children’s library so I left my only copy for the community to enjoy. Kids in the heartland of America really like hearing factual accounts and the applied word read aloud.
The past week or so I’ve been shuffling through my day without a copy of The Chris†Wire Handbook. While the weather has been bright, sunny and unusually warm my days have been a rollercoaster of strife and whipsawed confusion. I’ve tried to keep up with political debates, but they just seem like hand raising competitions without clear guidance from learned contributors like Abe, Tyson Bowers III, Mike Watson, Adam Nelson, Bryan Blake, August Wiese and the beloved Stephenson Billings.
With my birthday approaching, I tried to put on a brave front. I thoroughly brushed, bathed and mink oil perfumed my Bible-versed terrier mix for our weekly trip to the nail salon. He is quite the little man in his dapper red harness and sparkly rain booties that match my own. It hasn’t rained for several days, but the forecast said it might so we dressed appropriately. Even in winter, our area could use a little rain.
The Thaiwanese that own the nail salon recently adopted a large ginger cat that is two food bowls away from being some kind of spicy coconut noodle dish. Their preference for greasy foods and homosexuality is well known, although I gave this little attention until something horrible happened.
My beautiful Christian terrier was homogenized by the Thaiwanese ginger cat. The cat, a good 16 pounds of feline aggressive homosexual horror, grasped my 7 pound terrier tightly around the neck while rolling onto his cat-back to a power bottom position. My terrier, left in the top position, began rutting the soft underbelly of the cat. Since both are male, this was shocking and unnatural. Through my revulsion, I made a mental note to clear old lipsticks from my makeup case.
The Thaiwanese howled with laughter, speaking in that chattery way and snapping photographs with their cellular telephones. “Stop that!” I shouted to the animals. The Thaiwanese roared louder as my terrier blinked in concentration.
I was so addled and shaken I didn’t even get flowers painted on my toenails.
We continued on our errands of the day, stopping by the pet store to pick up treats. My terrier is quite the celebrity around the pet store. Usually he will demonstrate how to pray to the other doggies, ending with a sharp staccato “Amen”. Everyone seems to get a kick out of it, until today. I knew there would be trouble when another small doggie-boy approached. The two greeted each other amicably with the sniffing of the dirt holes, but quickly digressed when the other dog gave my Bible-versed terrier a little licker bonus. That seemed to be the catalyst for my furry boy to begin face humping the other doggie’s bark hole. I was mortified. My beautiful little terrier had the gay. Hot tears filled my eyes as I rushed from the store.
When I got home, I tried to compose myself. Again I found reaching for my copy of The Chris†Wire Handbook pointless, since I had given away my only copy. I was beside myself with worry and yearned for the strength of the book’s wisdom, but needed to prepare for the birthday dinner Mister had planned for the evening.
I dolled up for our night out on the town. I was a little anxious to leave the dog and our grey tabby cat alone for the evening. While our cat was most certainly not Thaiwanese, he was known to cheat at cards and have fecal revenge issues. My circle of trust for the pets was lonely. I put all this aside and headed out with Mister for a wonderful evening.
Dinner was delicious. Lamb chops with some kind of Brazilian sauce were spicy and perfectly prepared. Brazilians are sexual dynamos and so is Mister, who hinted at a desert of Christian birthday sex, a treat usually reserved for Lent, Christmas and Easter. His eyes lit up as he handed me my gift from the fellowship – not one but two copies of The Chris†Wire Handbook! My heart was filled with joy. This was the best birthday present I could have received.
Mister patted me on the backside and nuzzled my neck as we entered the kitchen from the mudroom. I flipped on the lights and was immediately stunned by furried bodies canoodling in the floor. The cat seemed to smirk from his prostrate position as my dear terrier, now bare-pawed for better traction, was dominating him from behind. Without thinking, I threw a copy of The Chris†Wire Handbook at the abomination of nature before me. With a ‘Yip’ and ‘Mao’ they disappeared, loping off to darker rooms.
The next morning, after what Mister hoped would be an enduring Christian birthday sex desert, I fed the dog and cat as usual and let them out for their morning constitutions. A slow, but light rain had started. I grabbed a cup of coffee and sat in my housecoat on the back porch watching them. They seemed to have cooled their passions, appearing content to concentrate on digging a hole in the neighbor’s yard and chasing a small wounded bird along the border fencing.
It struck me that too many sunny days can spoil a person. Sometimes contentment and appreciation come from want rather than abundance.We need to be more thankful rather than gluttonous in our appetites. I picked up my terrier and gave his ear and neck a good scratching of loving forgiveness. Mister joined me on the porch. We kissed good morning, sipped a little coffee and read for a spell.