Shootin' the Breeze

and random targets

Archive for the tag “Criminal Minds”

Lassie, the Well, and Criminal Minds

Beau marathon continues with another comparison of Beau and Lassie.

Shootin' the Breeze

Beau hero

Baby boomers old enough to remember the TV show “Lassie” are familiar with Lassie’s ability to communicate with humans.  She would run for help, bark, and then the human would follow her back to whomever needed saving.  She was a beautiful Collie.

“What is it, girl?  Timmy’s in the well?  Show me!”

Roy Rogers’ dog, Bullet, and Rin Tin Tin, who was the hero of Fort Apache, both German Shepherds, exhibited the same talent.

Our new dog, Beau, a Yellow Lab we just adopted from an animal shelter, performed in a similar, yet opposite, manner.

Timmy was not in the well.  Beau was.  Kinda.  I will explain.  Labs like to play in water.

Here on Cross Creek Ranch, we have a PVC water pipe that formerly was connected to a mobile home on the property.  The mobile home, being mobile, was removed many years ago.  However the electric, septic and…

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The Serpent and Other Dangers

Company Name - 17685 U.S. HWY 287 Livermore, Colorado

Sugar only saw one rattlesnake this summer.  For her, that was one too many.

Now that I have your attention, allow me to share with you a true tale of adventures and misdeeds, punished and unpunished.

There are actual forks in the road and there are choices in life concerning which moral path to take.  Read on about the paths of both types which I have taken in a single day and the consequences thereof.

Today, I hauled some trash to the dump, I mean, to the sanitary landfill.  I had put some old tires and an old grill and other actual trash in a seldom-used stock trailer.  As a romantic husband, I invited Sugar to come with me to the dump, but she was not in the mood for a date such as that.  So I went by myself.

At the dump, they charge by weight and charge extra for tires.  The lady at the entrance counted six tires amidst the other stuff.  I had loaded the trailer so long ago that I did not know how many there were, for which the disposal fee is $4.00 per tire. So, the truck and trailer were weighed on a scale going in, I was given a tag, and then the truck and trailer were weighed again going out.  Maybe they are worried that I might be sneaking some trash out.  But, get a load of this — when I unloaded, I counted ten tires, so I told the lady at the exit gate and paid another $16.  What a good boy am I!  Well, not always.

On the way to and fro, I took back roads because the license plate on the trailer expired in 2007.  As a member of the Rural Land Use Board, it would be embarrassing for my political career for a man in my powerful position to be found violating the law.  So I was real sneaky.  (You are thinking — Is publishing a blog about criminal activity being sneaky?)  Well, Concerned Readers, there is no need or benefit for me to continue being sneaky because the cat is out of the bag already and my violation is a matter of public record.  Sin has been exposed to the light of day already, so why not be exposed on the internet too?

Temptation altered the outcome of what otherwise appeared to be the perfect crime.  On the way home, I did not stay on the back roads all the way but risked traveling on the highway for just a few miles because I wanted to stop at The Forks, a convenience store/bar which is less than two miles from home, appropriately located at a fork in the road.  I stopped to get a treat.  I deserved it.  I got an ice cream cone because I need to keep my weight up during football season in case the Broncos need me.  I am a free agent, you see, not having been selected for the 53 man roster, just like Tim Tebow and many other fine players who are still available.  It is just a matter of waiting for a phone call from the Broncos or perhaps desperate calls from other teams.

It turned out to be an expensive cone.  There was a State Patrol officer/tattletale who was parked behind a motor home in the parking lot of The Forks.  Now that is sneaky!  What a snake!

I hoped the officer was just focused on catching speeders.  He had his radar gun out.  I calmly ate my cone on the porch, exuding feigned innocence, and was pleased to see the patrolman eventually leave The Forks.  I breathed a sigh of relief.  I had finished the cone.  Now for my get-away.

My truck and trailer were pointed in a direction that made it easier for me to go out a different way than I came in.  It takes some room to turn the whole rig around and I was worried about hitting something if I tried to back all the way out of the parking lot.  So, I exited in violation of the sign that said “no left turn” because, duh, the ranch is left of The Forks when facing the direction of that exit.

The suspense is building.  You astute readers are guessing that the officer of the law saw my illegal exiting maneuver.  Wrong!  I got off scot-free.  Again.

I drove up the highway less than a mile.  That is all the further my road is from The Forks.  I dutifully turned on my right-hand turn signal, slowed and turned.  What to my wondering eyes did appear, but the State Patrol car parked to the side of my very own road, a mere mile from home.

He had set up another speed trap.  I still believed that I was going to make it okay.   He was looking for speeders.  Surely he would not crane his neck to check out the rear license plate on the trailer when I passed him.  We were, after all, facing opposite directions.  As I chuckled to myself, the officer turned his car around, away from the highway, and headed toward our ranch.  He followed me.  He turned on his lights.  I quit chuckling.  Four hundred yards from our lane, I pulled over.  I waited for the patrolman to approach the driver’s side window of my vehicle.

“It is hard to miss those expired plates on the trailer,” he explained.  (You see, the Department of Motor Vehicles cleverly issues different colors for different years.)  I did not try to pull the “Do you know who I am?” card, like Reese Witherspoon did recently.  Since the officer did not recognize my famous face or name, I just let him treat me as if I am a member of the general public.  I was polite and respectful.   I was fake.  I was phony.  I was ashamed to hear myself saying, “Thank you, Officer.”  Thanks for what?

He gave me a ticket for $95.00.  Expensive cone.

But the joke is on him.  He did not notice that the brakes and signal lights on the trailer don’t work.

When I got home and was unhitching the trailer from the truck, I spied a snake in the grass, literally and factually.  I was not in the mood to live and let live.  It was him or me.  Maybe it was her or me.  It was it or me.

Jesus crushed the head of the serpent with his heel, but I am not in his league, so I am not above using tools for safety reasons.

Having just been to The Forks, I had an idea.  I calmly went to the barn, got a pitchFORK, and skillfully stabbed the serpent right behind the head from which his/her/its forked tongue emerged.  Now I feel better.

And to you snake-lovers out there — get over it!  Save the whales instead.

The front of The Forks 287

Lassie, the Well, and Criminal Minds

Beau hero

Baby boomers old enough to remember the TV show “Lassie” are familiar with Lassie’s ability to communicate with humans.  She would run for help, bark, and then the human would follow her back to whomever needed saving.  She was a beautiful Collie.

“What is it, girl?  Timmy’s in the well?  Show me!”

Roy Rogers’ dog, Bullet, and Rin Tin Tin, who was the hero of Fort Apache, both German Shepherds, exhibited the same talent.

Our new dog, Beau, a Yellow Lab we just adopted from an animal shelter, performed in a similar, yet opposite, manner.

Timmy was not in the well.  Beau was.  Kinda.  I will explain.  Labs like to play in water.

Here on Cross Creek Ranch, we have a PVC water pipe that formerly was connected to a mobile home on the property.  The mobile home, being mobile, was removed many years ago.  However the electric, septic and water hookups remain, in case we build another cabin on the site.  That PVC pipe sticks up out of the ground.  The water pipe is capped on the end with a plastic plug.

We learned by a very recent experience that if the plastic plug is removed, the area floods.  We also learned that when water is pouring out of that pipe like a fireman’s hose, we lose water pressure in the main house, the bunkhouse, and the barn.

We lost water pressure yesterday morning.  Lassie, I mean Beau, came up on the back deck, soaking wet, made eye contact with Miss Sugar, and left.

“What is it, Beau?  Is Timmy in the well?  Show me!”

So Miss Sugar followed Beau to the well, sort of.  She followed him to where the PVC pipe was spurting out water, to Beau’s delight.

Beau and pipe

Our hero!  He was alerting us to our water problem.  Isn’t he smart!

Is he smart enough to remove the plastic plug?  Why has it never come out before?  Why is his rawhide chew toy, left as a clue, laying next to the pipe?  Who would leave a dog dish at the scene of the crime?  If someone who enjoys tug of war  and chewing thought it was fun to bite the plastic plug, might the plug come loose?  I’m not naming names of suspects quite yet, I’m just investigating theories.

Beau knows, but he ain’t talking.

Beau fixing pipe

At least he helped me fix the problem that he “found.”

Beau advising

Hammerhead

If Beau is so smart, why did he bring a hammer to a plumbing project?

Bone of suspicion

Pictured above is the usual suspect, standing in the water.  Note the rawhide chew toy immediately below his left front foot.  No one else’s chew toys were in the vicinity.  Another photo of the crime scene above shows a dog bowl and the chew toy.  How did they get there?  Either someone is attempting to frame Beau, or he must remain being considered a “person of interest.”

I invite readers to serve as jurors.  If you believe in your heart, after reading the description of events and clues, that Beau is innocent, please give your opinion in a comment on this post.

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