My Pa sends the best emails. He is the squarest beatnik poet you'll ever meet. Here is one of his best missives:
"have arrived, gotten all of the stuff in (not put up yet) changed to MY YALLER PANTS and long sleeved Razorback white shirt, enjoyed the trip to LR and the food and seeing Thomas and meeting Ronnie and the conversation (Carol) and the picture show and all the rest. The drive home was good but windy and how, blowed all the Curl out of my hair. Oh! and I got the mail have not opened it yet. Got an interesting note from a dog setter in Wash thanks Callie ( will try to drop U a line later). All is well that ends well.
Love Big Pa"
He has style.
And he's referring to my last email at the end, where I discuss the travails of dogsitting for three demented dogs. Not all at once. One ran off and was feeling his oats and making me feel guilty, but apparently he's just been off in the woods having an Iron John moment. Another one wasn't demented, but if she didn't want to go out, there was no way she'd go out. The third is an ancient little crone — incontinent, with skin problems and anger issues. I brought her over to the home of the other two dogs on an overlapping day and she, um, expressed her anger or just couldn't control herself all over the kitchen floor. I was just grateful it wasn't on the homeowners' authentic, silk Arabian carpet. She's much better now that she's back in her own home and she's a wonderful companion anyway.
I wish I had some YALLER PANTS. And I wish I could find a wind strong enough to blow the Curl out of my hair.
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