Continuin Mai Cowboy Trainin

Musashi Sez:

Wull, now that Rex has hads time to feel lik part of the fambly, we are goin to start the next step in my cowboy trainin, which it turn out is all about bandananas. My mom wears these when she gets all sweaty at the gym, but mostlee I has gone fer a pretty red coller or a white ascot or bo tie.  But Rex sez that reel cowboys wear bandananas, an he even wentid on the kapyootr (which not easy when yu gots Rhino feets to type wift) and he showed me John Wayne an the Lone Ranger, an shur enugf, them gys gots the bandananas tied around their throts. 

Those guys are wearing red ones, which not got the perty paisleys that all of Mom's bandananas has. She has all diffrint colors like blak an bloo an grey an red an pink. My fayvritest color is brigt pink. So Mom offered me her brigt pink bandanana to wear, but my neck is either way to big or way too small, dependin on how yu folds it (the banandana, not my neck), so we all decided that Rex shud wear it instead. He sed that he likes it verree much cuz it bring out the powder bloo of his corduroy hide.

An then, cuz like Mom sez, if yer hobby not teachin yu stuffs, yu'r not doin it rigt, we got to argyooin how yu spells the werd, or more precislee, how yu stops spellin the word, an I sed it was a funnee word, an Rex sed that it wus like umbrellas an pajamas, an Mom sed that's cuz it was probly Indian, and it turn out she’s rigt (she’s gud wift the wurds). 

Then we decided we had to look it up an find out what it really mean, cuz “sweat-soakin-up-piece of colord-cotton-wif-paisleys” don’t sound like a real word to me. Turn out it means “tie-dyed” an it related to the word “to bind.”

So I guess we're doin the cowboyin rigt, cuz we are learning stuffs.

YU NOT GOIN TO BELEEV THIS!!!

Musashi Sez:

So I not eevn noe wher to start. Hmm. Now We Are Six wud be gud cuz we is, or at least, I ar.

But mor than that, yu all noe how hard I hav been campaigning fer a ponee of mai veree own so I kin practice ridin him so I kin go on to become a cowboy in the mooveez. An Mom allus sez NO. Huh.

Except that this time, she finallee wentid to a store that sell poneez!!! I not eevn noe that Brookline had sutch a thing. I thoughtid that she wud hav to go verree far awae, like Texas or Collarraddo or mebbe eevn West Virginia. But no.

Now I am not sayin it wentid the way I wud hav wanted it to, or eevn the wae she egspectid. She went in an talked to a whole bunch of ponees, incloodin a purple one whu had perty shiny perpul ribbons fer her mane and tale an also one whu looked like a giraffe wift a really short neck. And to each of these ponee folks, she sed, “Hullo. Wud yu lik to be mai kittee Musashi’s ponee? He wants help in becoming a cowboy kittee.”

An all of them sed the same thin: “Wait, Musashi is yer kittee? That feller wift the blog? And the reallee, reallee sharp CLAWS???”

“Um,” said Mom. “So yu has heard of him?” Which, it turn out was not the bestest answer if what we wer lookin fer was a ponee in the horsie family to com liv wift us an teach me cowboy stuffs.

But Mom is flexibobbul (problee from all that yoger latelee), so she luks around to see if there were anee peeples whu were mostly poneez but not so skittish. So she luks at the bunneez (but we gots three (3) bunnee types here an onlee one (1) typewriter, so she figgered another bunnee wud not work). An she talked to the lion person, but he seemed wae too innerested in how many bunneez lived wift us, which also not seem so gud.

Then she talked to a couple of differint elerphants (one was dark bloo an the other was ligt bloo; I figger one was from Indier an the other was from Afriker, although I kin never rememberrer which is which). All of them seemed nice but near-sigted, an not likely to want to charge into a gunfigt at the Alrigt Corral.

Finalee, she say sadlee, “Doesn’t aneebodee want to get adopted an com be mai kittee’s ponee? He’s akshullee qwite nice most of the time.”

An just as she was draggin herself out of the store, a big low voice sed, “I’m not afraid of kittee claws. I am quite tougf akshullee, an also I hav alwaes wanted to be a cowboy.”

Wull, Mom turned around an there was this big Rhinocerosaucerous, wift a real live horn on his nose! An he was corduroy, which we are also boft qwite fond of in our blankies an clotheses an peeples. 

An she say cautiously, "Um, what yu eat, if yu don't mind my askskin, an also how mutch of it? Cuz we are on a limited budjit."

An he soun verree sad then, an he sez, "Oh, that not gud. I eats Firstest Drafts of Writin. I prefer handrigtin. I kin digest the typed kind, but then I has to hav a mint to make it go down properlee."
 
An Mom nearly shout wift joy, cuz if there one thing we gots more of than pens that don't work an poops, it hafta be our Firstsest Drafts. She write hers in pen an marker an I perfer to yooz crayons (speshullee purpul). But she is cayrful by naytchur, so she asksk, "Does yu has a fayvoritest snack?"

An he say shyly, "Wull, I like to has a few bloo-berries now an then to keep my pertee powdr bloo color up, and I nom on boot noodles when I kin get them, so mai teeft stays healthee."

"Huh," sez Mom to hersalf. "This soun too good to be troo." So she asksk him (out loud, so he kin hear her), "Are yu afraid of anythin I shud noe about? Plumbers? Vacuums? Lightning?"

"Wull," he says slowly, "I not fond of fire, cuz it make me want to run an stamp it out, altho the laydee who own this stor has ben explainin to me about the 'gas stofe' and how yoosful it kin be. I not like it, but I kin manidge mai instinkt to put the fire out if it bloo. I like bloo."

So this is the guy whu yoozed to be named Roy, but he akssked to be called Rex instead. He has come to liv wift us an be mai ponee, although I am still a little nervuss around him, on account of the horn. But he seem pertee happy to have been adopted (an I certainlee unnerstand that!). Mom sez that the whol point is that he has much thickerer skin than the other poneez, and that will be helpful in the days to com.

So I kinder has a ponee! Finlee! After all theez years!

Mai Lastest Ditch Efferts

Musashi Sez:

So, as the mime artist seds, here goes nothing. (Hnrf, hnrf, hnrf!)*

I has ben asksin mai mom fer a ponee fer, like, years an years. Mebbe evn FIVE years, which are like a whole paw or mor, depending. But she keep sayin, Poneez is egspensive. They are big. They eets a lotta straw. They mayk way bigger poops than I does (an whu gonna clean that up?). They reqwire the egsersize. They makes noise wift their hoofs, so the folks downstairs will complain… Blah, blah, blah.

Against these argyoomints I sez, Yus, but wiftout a ponee to practice wift, how am I goin to prepare fer my fyootchr career as a movie cowboy?

 

So I has been thinking about last-ditch efferts. This is whut Sir Terry Pratchett sometimes call the “Million-to-One” Inevitability. I shows yu a “quote that is important to think about”**:

“When you need them, million-to-one chances always crop up….You know, that when there’s just one chance which might just work—well, it works. Otherwise, there’d be no—…I mean, it stands to reason, if last desperate chances didn’t work, there’d be no…well, the gods wouldn’t let it be any other way. They wouldn’t.”***

So I has decide that when we finalee go to beds tonigt an she is fallin asleep, I will verree softlee tell her a buncha cowboy stories, the ones where the cowboy kittee an his brayv horsee sidekik save the day from wandering bandits, an buffallos and also, possibul erpublicans, tho I am not shur about this last categoree. Mebbee we kin just stick wift cattle wrasslers. Cuz the cattle are busy enugf wiftout having to wrassle wift each other. Huh.

*In case yu not noe by now, this last bit is the soun of me larfing. Some peeples larf “hee haw” or eevn “har har har.” I do it mai way instead.

**This is a veree neer parafraze from one of mai mom’s stoodint’s paypers. I wud hav quoted direkly, but then I wud hav had to tell yu his name, which we think not a good idear.

***Pratchett, Terry. Guards! Guards! New York: HarperTorch, 1989, p. 292. Go read it.