Tom has moved out of our basement. According to supposition, he has taken up yet another permanent residence elsewhere. Even now, he has likely rented some room in a dumpster, storm drain, or alley where he feels his daily bread is slower and also much less susceptible to shortages. He had, though, inadvertantly caused a shortage of "outside/crawl space" family members for us. Tom might be relieved to know, however, that after only one week his vacancy has been filled by Sneer.
Sneer is gradually becoming quite the loyal, if not timid, pet. Whenever I am working outside, he can be found nearby, watching intently. In fact, he may have originally acquired his name because he'sNear all the time (Get it?). Interestingly, he says that Sneer was the original name for his species back in the days of Adam. He proudly claims that the species name had to be changed because his ancestors had turned it into such a derisive joke. He deserves the name, though, if for no other reason than that Sneer is the first sound he makes each morning. He has recently delighted us all by informing us that he will be staying at House for some time (Apperently there has been no shortage of insects) and that he has learned to say "Meow".
Yesterday I rented a U-haul for $20, budgeted $40 for dump fees and took as much of my house as would fit inside the truck to the city landfill. While acquiring directions over the phone I was told to take the exit and drive 2 miles (in Texan that means between 1 and 30mi), then to "Watch for Gazelles" so that I'll know where the dump is located. No kidding, that's what I thought he was smoking, too! If I'm that close to the dump, why not have me look for maybe...say, a DUMP! So, I drove down the correct road for two miles. I kept telling myself that I was looking for Gazelles, but...
O.K. Timeout to clarify the following: I know that all y'all (that's several groups of yous, plural) think we live on the plains of Africa, but Gazelles down town are like Hippos under the Glenn Jackson Bridge.
...Gazelles, but since I couldn't help feeling like I was being taken in I kept looking for the actual DUMP. I was just beginning to appologize to everyone who'd ever been on a "Snipe hunt" when I was nearly run off the road by a heard of long horned ponies bounding away from a lion on the Serengeti plains. Really, now?! Long horned cattle, I understand. It's a pride thing. But gazelles?!
The city dump that I drove past while looking at the gazelles amounted to a sign to a scales and a dumpster. There was a buldozer up on top of the hill, but no mess, clutter or dumpiness of any kind. Weird! I drove onto the scales and asked Dr. Livingstone some questions. When I was pretty sure he'd answered (it's hard to tell, sometimes), I dumped my stuff, drove back onto the same scale and saw that the price for dumping my load was $4.30. Being the honost chap I am, I asked if there could be some mistake in the fee. Bottom line, the price for dumping had gone all the way up to 1 cent per pound. I guess he thought that if I didn't want to be taken advantage of, then it was up to me to check the the price first. Rough place, Texas.
P.S. I'm not sure, but I think I briefly saw Tom at the landfill, too. He was chasing long horned rats.
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