Reimagine My Community
As part of the Advanced Due Diligence team, Ms. Peuw brings considerable experience, nobility, and decorum to her coveted role as Senior Scrutineer.
Some parishioners found her having her daily siesta on a church pew. As with Brother Festus’s ways, this didn’t go over so well with the powers-that-be who tried to evict her.
A quick tail lift, skillful delivery of N-butyl mercaptan (Odeur de Skunk), and Ms. Peuw completed her delivery.
The perfumed-presents arrived. Right on schedule. It was like Christmas.
Then it was time to complete her siesta, followed by the involved work….
It was time to dig deep in the box of buried political-corporate records to see what might emerge from hidden sanctuaries.
Often, someone buries truths at depth.
While examining whether to permit Fun on the website, Rusty had to dig deeper than most would dare to go.
Beyond the usual fare of grasses and herbs, it was the hidden bugs and worms that provided the best insights into the Dark World Down Under.
It is difficult to be stoic and straight-faced when at these depths.
He appreciates any “tips” when deep diving and fine dining in unexplored territories.
We salute Rusty for being lovable despite his earthy ways and appearance.
Oswald?
Why not Frank, Freddie or even Finnegan?
Oswald for a ferret?
Get real. Seriously?
Someone called him Oswald and then Oz in a social media tease and bully session. It stuck. He never liked it much, but he made the most of it.
He made the most of his life by turning his rejection into something of value.
Oz dug into his studies. He is now the absolute best in the field for ferreting out problem issues. He’s a Wiz.
Muttlee is our resident academic and scholar.
Muttlee is quick to examine the most subtle of scents, using his sniffer skills honed with a superior mix of his nose, ears, and drooping skin. He calls it his “Olfactory Package”—whatever that means.
“Why on earth would you want a facelift?” is a question that has perplexed blood hounds and basset hounds for centuries. Apparently, it is something that only humans could understand.
At least, according to Muttlee.
Muttlee is known for looking dubiously at statements. Well, at least until he sniffs out the source and truth of a statement. He figures this is important.
At least, according to Muttlee.
He has encountered several occasions where clandestine characters placed false scents. Likely designed to fool him.
At least, according to Muttlee.
He somehow figures out what’s real and what isn’t. Sometimes he has to chew on a bone for quite some time to know for sure.
The chewing always works. The buried delights are always in the marrow. Mutlee is very sure about that.
Cruiser’s favorite thing is adventure.
He has HAD IT (big time) with getting stuck in what he calls Korporate-Kennels.
Cruiser was the first one to get connected with the Journey and jump in the SUV. The open road and freedom appealed to him. Cruiser didn’t do so well at Skule (his spelling isn’t great). His thoughts were always on adventure and the Korporate-Kennels guzzling the Kultural-Kule-Aid turned out to be just more of what he didn’t like about the modern education systems.
Cruiser was not about to lose himself in a system that turned out little walking and talking robots run by some unseen puppet-master. We can only imagine what discussions Cruiser had with Mr. Whoot on this topic. Knowing Mr. Whoot, it was deeper than Cruiser rolls with.
He’ll take an old experienced Mutt (like Muttlee) any day to show him the ropes of life. The idea of being an apprentice-of-sorts intrigues Cruiser. He figures the old dogs know the ropes better than the totally boring Korporate-Kennels. Plus a Skule that just doesn’t understand him—who wants that? Like … they just don’t get it.
Just the other day, an old dog appeared to him in the forests. Three woofs later, Cruiser got the message on what’s next in life. Then the old dog disappeared before he could share his bone.
But Cruiser has this inner knowing … of what it means to be a free spirit. He knows more about the winds of life and freedom than the Denier-Dude, who stuffs people into cages.
He always wags his tail. The dogs in cages never do.
So he is rolling with the breezes. And that’s just fine in his books. You’ll find him in Journey.
Mooch and Whoover always manipulate The Kitchen System.
Whoover, in particular, has lightning quick reflexes and vacuums up crumbs in less than a second from impact.
Mooch is more specialized and discriminating. He prefers to wait for larger morsels by using his uncanny ability to read the emotions of humans.
On one occasion, The Kitchen System noticed that Mooch winked at Whoover after securing a larger morsel.
Attempts at reform have failed (it’s due to conflicting standards in The Kitchen System). Both Mooch and Whoover use this as leverage but never disclose their methods.
Plod and Slog’s favorite pastime in the Galápagos Islands is to sit on a park bench and discuss life and climate change. Sometimes they trade folk stories of ancient super-tortoises who journeyed inside volcanos and fought off wild wolves.
Often, they settle for sand and sun because of shipping shortages of their favorite park benches. Someone said the benches come from across The Mysterious Big Turtle Pond.
They have accepted their fate with the globe’s ways, but they aren’t happy about it.
So they make the best of it with their remaining years.
What they lack in speed, they make up in insights and wisdom.
Ma has long ago wearied of her formal name of Macaw Caninde and just goes by “Ma.” Certainly, other wise birds like Mr. Whoot just know her by Ma.
Ma is popular at all Christmas parties, being especially skilled at opening hard-shelled nuts with ease. Ma is very colorful on stage. Many agents seek her out for special solo works.
Her impersonations of other birds have got her “in the doghouse” occasionally. False news impersonations of celebrity eco-wrecking politicians are always in style at the annual New Year’s Eve Jungle Galas. She prefers to perch on Brother Festus’s shoulder. Since it is a black-tie event, Ms. Peuw always attends.
Ma enjoys providing amusement to her bird friends by hiding in bushes. Then she mimics the ring of a cellphone when tourists walk by….
Lem slurs his “m’s” so most people end up calling him Len or Lenny. Officially, it’s Lem.
What Lem likes is to be a singing tour guide. Which is why he volunteered for the Briefing Tour Guide position. Competition was tight for the role. Kari had a chance at it. But she forgot to set an alarm for her audition. By volunteering, Lem avoided most of the uncool Korporate-Kulture-Kule-Aid.
Lem always prefers right-side portraits. He figures the right side is the way to go.
On his days off, Lem likes to sun himself on rafts and let the winds blow him to foreign ports of call.
Kari is, well, just too tired today for her audition.
Among koalas, Kari remains disciplined and focused. She likes to get in a full 20 hours of sleep a day.
The thought of a midday audition was just too much. She had already put in 3 hours of midnight-tours. Then, she had scheduled in additional short midday tours to find a better tree. It was a demanding shift and called for a time of rest.
But an entire shift with Briefing tours? It was too much, and that called for another nap. “Let Lem do it—I’m not setting the alarm!” She ended up skipping her interview. Cruiser thought this was a wonderful idea and commended her for avoiding the Korporate-Kennels.
Then there are tourists to deal with who are forever confusing Eucalypts and Eucalyptus. It’s exhausting, and she needs her internal batteries recharged!
The most tiring events are the forest fires. Kari just wishes they would go away. Another “climate-adjusted” summer (or is that winter for the upside-down world of the Northern Hemisphere?) is getting too difficult to bear.
Not all koala bears are alike. She just wants her life back.
Some days, Pizza-Pie is kinda’ grumpy.
We are trying to be gracious and kind. But our nose would start growing in a nose-growing-race with some politicians.
We gotta be a straight-shooter and tell ya’—Pizza Pie is just plain grumpy when pizza is being delivered late.
Her favorite food is a Sardine Whopper-Pizza. Now—no telling any whopper lies and saying you don’t have any Sardine Pizza. You’re asking for trouble. She’ll track down your pizza cache and hiding spot.
Despite her many faults, Pizza-Pie is also a brilliant engineer. You’ll find her in a Trek-Build cruise.
Favorite saying: “Just hand over the pizza and nobody will get hurt.”
Favorite question: “When I was a kitten, how come I got in trouble and a timeout for fibbing, but some grownups get to fib?”
This “Tom” business for a turkey just doesn’t cut it with Thomas.
When it’s time to talk turkey, you want Thomas on the job. He doesn’t put up with any gobble-gobble-gobble 🙄 by The System.
He knows when he is getting fattened up for Thanksgiving (as if he is thankful for that season). He knows the extra food (usually full of yum-yum chemicals) has a hidden agenda. It’s all part of The System’s plans to do him in.
“Rrright … an agenda all right. At my expense.” 👿
“Then they want to fill me up with stuffing. As if they are doing me a favor.”
“I suppose I am supposed to be THANKFUL and say grace before dinner. I guess I will need some angels or Divine help to go into a HOT oven. The earth’s inhabitants might need some help too, once the heat waves hit.”
“Something funny about this program. It’s time to talk turkey.”
Hi! I’m Dolly, the singing sheep.
Some news articles mentioned there was a counterfeit-sheep running around in Scotland that also goes by my name, Dolly. It’s probably busy eating haggis. Poor soul. Mind you, the judges have ruled her to be the real deal. At least according to the official sources.
But what do I know? I am just a sheep. But I know my shepherd when he calls me over for a visit. I don’t bother with clones.
Me? I’m the real deal. I stick to good ol’-fashioned grass and some of the tastier weeds. In a pinch I do some silage but, in my books, that is like going to one of the fast-food joints. Or sauerkraut that has gone.
Give me a fresh field in the summer any day.
I am quite sensitive to copyright issues so I don’t usually sing Country in places of research. But I do Celtic ballads and skip with the lambs. Some of the tunes were long ago forgotten. Sad.
Politics I suppose.
Once, I heard a lady singing on the farmer’s truck radio. Same name as me. Can you imagine? She had a very good voice—something or other about 9 to 5 and 5 to 9. Curious but interesting lyrics….
It’s a small world, isn’t it? Two Dolly’s. I was amazed.
Oops, three Dolly’s!
I keep forgetting about that other one … Ms. Dolly, Clone, Esquire.
Yes, we are VERY concerned about Climate Change and the impacts on Community.
