If the woodland creatures unite, we're in trouble, y'all.
Though yesterday was a Very Disappointing Day, there were a few things that happened that made me smile. Nay, laugh, even.
There is an empty lot on the highway at I-40 and Soncy that used to be a HUGE field, with cows and everything. Seriously. Thirteen years ago, when I started dating Nolan and he brought me to what I affectionately called "That windy, dry town with no trees and too many farm animals," (or Amarillo, to those unfamiliar with my former feelings about my home), across from The Mall (No, really. Just ONE mall) were hundreds of acres of grazing land for cattle.
I thought it was weird and a little funny. I took a picture.
"Okay, and then when we came out of Dillards - Cows!"
This is not so anymore; restaurants and boutiques and stores and shopping centers have all cropped up, leaving this one tiny corner empty. What does this corner have on it?
Prairie dogs.
It you've never seen a prairie dog in its natural habitat, think that little meerkat rat-thing in The Lion King for which Nathan Lane did the voice. These particular prairie dogs burrow underground in this vacant lot, and come up occasionally for food and to give the finger to the traffic passing by.
They're cute.
Nolan and the boys mime looking through a sight and make powpowpow noises when we drive by.
I digress.
When I was driving by the other day to go to The Mall, I noticed signs in the prairie dog vacant lot. They say:
"Don't keeeel us!
Stop paving over our home!"
"We were here first!"
And my personal favorite:
"DON'T MAKE US UNITE."
Evidently, these little rodents can write.
I laugh, but it's a nervous laugh. You all know how I feel about squirrels and rabbits and other woodland creatures, right? Here's what I think: I think that now that the prairie dogs have the gift of penmanship and the ability to make signs, if they make a pact with all the rabbits and squirrels, the world is SCREWED.
Or maybe I'm paranoid.
(But probably not.)
There is an empty lot on the highway at I-40 and Soncy that used to be a HUGE field, with cows and everything. Seriously. Thirteen years ago, when I started dating Nolan and he brought me to what I affectionately called "That windy, dry town with no trees and too many farm animals," (or Amarillo, to those unfamiliar with my former feelings about my home), across from The Mall (No, really. Just ONE mall) were hundreds of acres of grazing land for cattle.
I thought it was weird and a little funny. I took a picture.
"Okay, and then when we came out of Dillards - Cows!"
This is not so anymore; restaurants and boutiques and stores and shopping centers have all cropped up, leaving this one tiny corner empty. What does this corner have on it?
Prairie dogs.
It you've never seen a prairie dog in its natural habitat, think that little meerkat rat-thing in The Lion King for which Nathan Lane did the voice. These particular prairie dogs burrow underground in this vacant lot, and come up occasionally for food and to give the finger to the traffic passing by.
They're cute.
Nolan and the boys mime looking through a sight and make powpowpow noises when we drive by.
I digress.
When I was driving by the other day to go to The Mall, I noticed signs in the prairie dog vacant lot. They say:
"Don't keeeel us!
Stop paving over our home!"
"We were here first!"
And my personal favorite:
"DON'T MAKE US UNITE."
Evidently, these little rodents can write.
I laugh, but it's a nervous laugh. You all know how I feel about squirrels and rabbits and other woodland creatures, right? Here's what I think: I think that now that the prairie dogs have the gift of penmanship and the ability to make signs, if they make a pact with all the rabbits and squirrels, the world is SCREWED.
Or maybe I'm paranoid.
(But probably not.)