Chemical Warfare: The Hazards of Living Next to the Dahlins.

So, last time we left off...contemplating the tumultuous condition of the brotherhood of mankind and the newly discovered roadkill, that one of the hippies down the street, brought to our house. Booty had found it squashed in the middle of the road in Santa Monica Rustic Canyon where he went to channel aliens with the aluminum-foil pyramid he fastened to the top of his thick curly hair.

"Dude...Bro...this is totally tubular." Booty (the surfer) said holding out the dead skunk to my brother as if handing him a million dollars.

"Dude...Cool...this is like totally groovy man." Dooh-Dooh Pants exclaimed, overjoyed at gift he was delighted to receive.

As I said before, Dooh-Dooh Pants had fancied himself as a combination of a child-of-the-earth and backwoods-mountain-man and thought that this skunk's fur would make the perfect hat - kind of like Davey Crockett's - only way more cool. Laying the squished beast out on the table on the patio, both of them realized something was missing. 

THE STINK! 

Whoever ran it over, failed to pop the stink-sacks and they were struck with the sudden revelation that special caution would have to be taken as Dooh-Dooh Pants prepared to remove the hide. This was not to be taken lightly and needed additional inspiration as the two of them decided to retreat to the hidden-hippy cannibus-cavern behind the pool and puff the "magic dragon."

"Dude" Booty said.
"Dude...Dude!" Dooh-Dooh Pants said in return, as if they were communicating deep truths of the universe.

With a new sense of carefree confidence and inconsequential frivolity, Dooh-Dooh Pants and his partner in crime emerged from the dubious ivy cave, smelling slightly of skunk themselves, with a newly hatched PLAN.

You see, the neighbors next door had the perfect house and the perfect yard and had the perfect dog. Mr. Blaser even went as far as paying for professional flea-spraying laboring under the misapprehension that he could keep the Dahlin's fleas out of his backyard. Ha...that was like thinking that refugee mosquitoes seeking asylum from the Dahlin's green pool wouldn't illegally migrate onto his pristine property.
(to the left is a picture of our mosquito breeding pond at the zenith of its crystal purity)
Spinning like a discus thrower at the Olympics, Dooh-Dooh Pants nearly fell over as he enthusiastically launched those sacks high over the ivy and into that immaculate backyard next door.

 That cuddly-cute Collie, Ginger, could not resist the inner-canine and attacked those skunk sacks with the viciousness of a Beverly Hills house wife who had been pulled over by a cop. She latched on to those gelatinous tissues filled with the liquid plague of terror and ferociously shook them like a true descendent of a wild wolf.  When the those sacks popped, Ginger went crazy...ran around the yard like she had gone blind and howled in excruciating pain.

Panicking, Barbara opened the the back door and in darted Ginger with those awful stink-sacks still wedged between teeth and gums.  The screaming began!  First it was high shrill sound of the girls screeching in horror...then everyone in the neighborhood could hear Mr. Blaser yelling out commands to catch the crazy dog that had gone totally berserk and was running a muck in the house dragging that hideous smell from room to room.

Dooh-Dooh Pants and Booty rolled on the cement ground of that patio and laughed more than they should have. Maybe this is what it meant to "frolic in the Autumn midst."

Gagging bodies began pouring out of the Blaser house with "T" shirts and towels held over their noses as if escaping a burning building. Judy carrying little Michael in her arms; Barbara with Christine.  Mrs. Nargie, across the street, called the Fire Department and Mr. Steadmen pointed to the Dahlin house and said to Mrs. Steadmen, "Its no wonder lions eat their young!" In the mayhem that followed, Ginger had managed to spread that skunk-chemical-warfare throughout every inch of every room and the Firemen made sure everyone had been thoroughly evacuated from the house.

Ginger had to be sent away to the vets for a tomato bath followed by psychological evaluation and the house was uninhabitable for the next two weeks. 

Thanks to Dooh-Dooh Pants...and his Skunk-Sack-Prank, my best friend Tommy and family got to stay at a nice nearby motel that had a built-in pool and a real jacuzzi. Tommy sneaked me into the motel pool and I got to swim in clear water that was mosquito free.

To this day, the Blasers are still wondering where their beloved collie found a skunk in the first place and  what made their stupid dog decided to attack such a formidable foe. 
 
Oh well, such is the hazard of living next to the Dahlins and I guess in a metaphorical sense...that is the hazard of living next to any neighbor - be a nation, a country, or a people group who look different, talk different or dare to think different.

Love indeed is a difficult concept to wrap our minds around...that really requires viewing others as valuable, but we can only do that in all humility that looks at others as being better than ourselves. But such is the human condition to press in on exalting self at the expense of others.       

OH... and the hairdo you see (in this picture to the left), is a story all of its own...One that takes a trip across country, which involves The PRESIDENT of the United States.

Next time!

 Until then, know that you are indeed relentlessly perused by the only perfect Love that exist in the universe!             Smile and pass it on.