Close Encounters with Coherence and Skunks

WISIMH:   According to a study that I made up for this post, scientists have determined that on average women speak 30,000 words per day, and men speak 10,000 words.

Woman:  Of course, because we have to repeat everything.

Man:  What?

Yesterday afternoon’s texts with TOG were about how sad and bittersweet it was for me to say goodbye to my puppy who, after 18 months driving me crazy under my roof and digging shallow graves in the front yard, moved to a different city with a family member. TOG’s texts were mostly misunderstandings and misreadings of my maudlin  texts, but the gist was that I was that I wanted someone to talk to about being sad. After ten minutes:

TOG:  DYS here now. Talk to you later.

WISIMH:  Your compassion is exceeded only by your cluelessness. Your empathy is exceeded only by your self-absorption. Your stupidity is exceeded only by DYS’ stupidity.

Last night’s text. Verbatim. I can’t make this shit up:

TOG: I got to go I got ago got to go get the Flashlight

Me: Que?

TOG: Just a reminder of remeberences (sic) past

WISIMH: Admittedly, I’ve been drinking bourbon and watching old sci fi movies where the rocket shoots out flames even in deep space halfway to the moon, and the spaceship captain wears a yachting cap and smokes a cigar on a red velvet couch in a wood paneled room that would work perfectly in a steam-punk club. But am I so far removed from reality that this is supposed to make some kind of sense?

Me:  I liked it better when I had a clue what you were talking about.

TOG:   Lucy

Me:  Ahhhh ha! Got it! Yeah, not missing that.

WISIMH: I had to develop ESP to determine when Lucy had to go outside to pee, then I had to accompany her with a flashlight. Two nights before, I tried to stay on the porch so my Bluetooth could still be in range and I could watch and hear a good movie on TV.  After a few moments, I heard her bark. That’s extremely unusual. I shined the flashlight into the direction of the bark and saw Lucy confronting a skunk, about 8 feet away.  I screamed her name three times and shouted COME! And bless her little canine heart, she did. She stopped to pee at the bottom of the porch stairs and we made it safely inside while I saw the skunk slink into the shadows. I'll miss that stupid dog who loved me.