The Beagle

I don’t know what happened to that dog, the beagle. It’s been 50 years, or so. I don’t even remember his name, though maybe it was Rocky, but I do remember mom’s shoes, dozens of them, mostly high heels.

Do women still wear high heels? Why?

The shoes, mom’s shoes all had bite marks, evidence that the beagle had chewed on them. The shoes were rendered less stylish. They were thrown out, perhaps the dog was too. Like I said, I don’t remember. I could ask my brother, he’d know. He knows all the dogs we ever owned and their stories, but I’m more comfortable not knowing. You can ask him if you want to know the rest of the story. But please, if you do, leave me out of it.

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2 Responses to The Beagle

  1. bettyjo says:

    re: “do women still wear high heels? why?”

    well Norm, as I recall yer Dad was well over 6 feet tall, your Mom was, well, short.
    Perhaps she wore high heels so she didn’t snub her nose on his belt buckle when they danced.

    I purchased a pair of high heels last year. I had to. I knew fer sure I could never walk in any of the 5 inch “Sorority spikes” I might borrow from Granddaughter. We had made dinner reservations over Christmas at a fancy SF restaurant (a celebration of our 50th year keeping company together). All the women (daughters, granddaughters, other Mother-in-Law), were getting with the “dressing for dinner” program. All the girls looked fabulous. I ordered valet parking so I didn’t have walk far. High heels (even sensible 2 212 inchers) are really different than clod hopper work boots – my usual foot fare. The guys were willing to go so far as sport jackets, but balked at wearing ties. Which was, I figured, not worth fussing about. Being so busy watching my feet and trying to walk sorta not too ungracefully, it was not til we were in the car that I realized the old man had extended the “no tie” allowance to mean that he didn’t even have to shave the 4 day stubble on his face. Argh.

    Dinner was extraordinary – a 7 course tasting menu from a 2 star Michelin chef. The girls were very brave, tasting most everything (except the sea urchin, pork belly, tomato foam chowder). They even actually enjoyed the beet sorbet with citrus coating and porcini dusted chocolate “root”. I expect you might have actually very much liked the small lamb chop buried under impossibly crispy freeze-dried (Macrogastronomy) red and green cabbage leaves in course number 5. Nice thing about tasting menus is there just a little bit of a whole bunch of different stuff so if some is too weird, you only need wait til the next course to try something different.The girls also willing posed beautifully for family photos. We’d have great pics for the foto album if I could just figure out how to photoshop out whiskers. sigh.

    50 years ago the husband willingly wore ties. I made them. He had soy sauce colored ties for Chinese Restaurants, spaghetti sauce colored ties for Italian Restaurants…. Perhaps it’s a conspiracy by the dry cleaning lobby that men’s neck wear fashion has moved away from ties.
    My new high heel shoes are back in the closet. If we make it to a 100th anniversary, perhaps I’ll trot ‘em out again. Shouldn’t be quite so hard to walk on heels then, since we’ll both probably be using walkers.

    re: Tradecraft:

    Our next door neighbor (‘bout a mile and half up the canyon), just called to report that a large 100 lb Mt Lion attacked his dog last night (1 am). He went after the Lion with a 2×4. Dog is ok, lion chased away, but since our little calf is less than a week old, I reckon we’ll be keeping fire arms next to the door tonite in case we hear cow alarms. Best replace the flashlight batteries too…. Not keen on stalking a Mountain Lion. They have the first “concealed carry” licenses, called retractable claws. But perhaps with the outdoor lights on and the possibility of loud reports from a weapon might enough to distract it from any nefarious activity. Whenever the bear shows up, all the cows line up horns out, babes behind, and make seriously loud complaint. I expect that calves may be vulnerable to a wolf pack attack, but less so to a single predator. I imagine that if I were a 100 lb. Mt. Lion facing an offensive line of 1100 lb cows, each sporting long horns, I might go give a try for the neighbors dog again instead.

    • Now all I see is my cuz exiting the car and clod hoppers hitting the pavement. Your right mom needed the heels on dancing night.

      Good luck with the new kitty in the neighborhood. I like it, the lions concealed weapons and the defensive line of the Reading Creek Cows

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