(Copyright SteveStickley 1997)

Moonpie

Dear Sister,

Our house hadn't been the same since the big rain and thunderstorm about a week ago last Tuesday night. It came up a big storm about midnight or so. Lester and I were watchin an old Love American Style rerun on T.V. It was a real good one with Ruth Buzzi and Dick Van Patten, Juliet Prowse, and Lyle Wagonner, and Joanne Worley and Pat Boone. Well, Ruth Buzzi and Dick van Patten were renting the same apartment, but one worked nights and one worked days, and they had never met. They were pen pals, but had P.O. boxes so they didn't know they had the same address.

Well, it was just gettin good, when a loud clap of thunder shook the windows and took the cable out. It started to rainin real hard. Lester went out on the front porch in his underwear to see it commin down. When he opened the front door there was a little brown puppy all wet and shiverin, sittin on our "Don't step on my blue suede shoes," Elvis doormat. You know, I don't think that's really his signature on there. Especially for only $6.99, but it is a conversation piece. Everybody notices it.

Anyway, Lester picked the little doggy up and dried him off and put him in a box in the kitchen, next to the hot water heater. He must have been awfully tired, cause he slept through ‘til mornin. Harla and Darla were up at the crack of dawn and it didn't take them long to find the little puppy in the kitchen. When I went in to start breakfast, they were playin catch with him, like he was a baseball. "That puppy is no more than six or so weeks old. You can't be so rough with it." I yelled at the little fools.

They asked Lester if they could keep the dog, and he said if it survives the first week with you two little Hellions, I guess so. I wasn't too keen on it at first, because of the high mortality rate of Harla and Darla's pets in the last few years. Have you seen their pet cemetery? Thank goodness our lot is a acre and a half, and there is a great big old arborvitae tree that keeps me from seein all those pitiful little crosses, when I'm doin the dishes.

They killed the first pets they ever had on the very first night they brought em home. Some old guy had Easter Ducklings and Chicks in a pen out in the parking lot of Skaggs Albertson’s. Harla and Darla must have been about three or four. They each got a Duck, one dyed green and one dyed pink. They named them Pinky and Greeny, and when they went to bed that night they took those poor little ducks with em.

When they woke up the next morning, Pinky was smothered under the covers and already gettin kinda stiff. Greeny had suffered a worse fate. He not only smothered under Harla's Winnie the Pooh comforter, but she rolled over on him in the night and squashed him flat as a pancake. That little thing didn't even look real, all mashed like that. Harla couldn't stop screamin when she saw it, and I finally had to tell her it was in heaven, and rock her in my arms for about an hour. I motioned to Lester to flush it down the commode while she wasn't lookin.

About that time, Darla came runnin in dangling Pinky by one tiny webbed foot, and we realized we'd have to have a double Funeral service. That was the first of many. I don’t know how many Parakeets we've had fly into fans or get sucked up vacuum cleaners. We have even buried the few feathers pried from the deathly jaws of cats and dogs that have evidently eaten our beloved birds.

Gerbils and rats have never seemed to last long around here. Of course you remember about Cheetos, the miniature chijuajua that got his little head slammed in the door, in the excitement of the girl's Sixth birthday party. That was just awful. The snake that Lester backed over in the car. And remember that Boxer dog that used to chase the lawnmower, and try to stop the blade?

The first time Lester carried that silly thing to the Vet, and had his jaw sewed up to the tune of about $1500.00. We had to spoon feed that thing baby food, and nurse him for about six months ‘til his jaw healed. He wasn't well two weeks ‘til Lester started up the mower and he took out after it and tried to stop the blade with his teeth again. Thank goodness the girls were at Church cause Lester took him over behind the garage and shot him. Lester always mows the grass on Sunday mornings so he won't have to go to Church. Well, anyway, when we got home he was sittin in the den drinking bourbon out of a happy meal cup watchin that Bass Fishin Show on T.V. and blubberin like a baby.

That boxer was the biggest of the graves, except for the donkey and the pony. I still think we should have had the county come get them. Doodlringer and Liberace was what the girls had named them, and that’s what’s on their markers. We stopped asking the girls why, after the pet names started getting bizarre. We don't want to stifle their creative bent. That's why we always let em draw on their walls and the furniture.

They told me that they want to name this puppy Moonpie. I said, Moonpie! What are you gonna name him that for? I don't even allow them in the house. They have absolutely zero nutritional value, and I think they make em out of sawdust and wax. Nobody eats Moonpies but Pure D. Trash, and we are just better than that. The twins looked at me kinda sheepish like and said that Moonpie was Mary Alice Kimbro's maid’s name. Timpy Lee, you know, that used to do ironing for Granny Akins, her oldest girl, and that she tells them stories when they play over at the Kimbros, so they want to name their dog for her.

I felt about this big. I just told them they better check and see if Moonpie is insulted and thinks they are makin fun if her name, by givin it to a dog. They assured me you can't make fun of any name in her family. They are all used to it by now. It seems that their Momma, Timpy Lee, named all her kids after favorite sweets. There are thirteen of em, and I do seem to remember hearing tell of a kid named Tapioca, once. I bet it's one of hers.

Well, it looks like Moonpie has left me something on the kitchen linoleum, the puppy Moonpie that is. I hope this doesn't become confusing. I hope he lasts longer than the rest. He's really cute.

You will have to see him when you visit. That is, if you ever do. I think one of us would have to keel over and die before you would come see us. Maybe we'll just drive up and surprise you some Sunday afternoon. You never know. So you better keep clean underwear on and your livin room picked up. Cause you never know when we might just ring your doorbell and take you out to Luby's for a Luann platter, our treat.

Let us know how you are. And remember we love you, anyway.

Your Sister, Leona