Dear Smiley: Mention of the dog swiping a hamburger reminded me of my granddaughter’s standard poodle, Lily.
A few years ago, we went to visit her in Georgia. It was Mardi Gras/king cake season, so we took a king cake with us.
They had shoved it to the back of the countertop, only to come home and find it gone. Turns out Lily loved yeast items. Not sure about the baby.
They knew she was the culprit, as she wouldn’t look them in the eye when asked who ate the king cake.
Dear Linda: Only in Louisiana can someone read a line like "Not sure about the baby" and know exactly what you mean…
Cat burger burglar
Dear Smiley: The hamburger dog thief in a recent story had nothing on what cats can do when the opportunity presents.
The late Mike Crespo’s cat, Sirke, who was named after a children’s TV character, Count Csirke, was a master thief. I once saw through a window as he reached up onto an outdoor grill of sizzling hamburgers and with a paw flipped a couple of them off to the ground. What’s a little dirt on your burgers?
He also devoured an entire raw fish left on a kitchen counter with no human on guard. By the time the theft was discovered, Sirke was washing his paws.
(Csirke means “chicken” in Hungarian. This cat was no chicken.)
An economical education
Dear Smiley: Having a lot of time on my hands, the other day I was thinking back to 1956, when I was a freshman at LSU.
I was a Korean War veteran, so good old Uncle Sam paid me $110 per month to attend the school of my choice. (You had to carry at least 12 hours per semester to get that maximum benefit.)
Being a veteran, I could choose the dorm of my choice, which was The Pentagon, a little more expensive than the stadium dorm.
I don't remember the cost of tuition, dorm cost, or books (used), or any other expenses, but I can tell you this, I got by on $110 per month.
I even remember going to the Pastime Lounge for a root beer on occasions. How I did all these things on that small amount of money is beyond me — and I did not have a part-time job!
Eating like a bird
Dear Smiley: I know your column has a vast readership. Perhaps one of your readers is an ornithologist and can shed some light on a bird situation I am presently experiencing.
I have always had a bird feeder, and have always thrown bread on the ground for the birds. I am now living in my third house that I have built, and birds have continued to flock to the feeder. But for over a week now, they have completely ignored the bread put on the ground.
The only thing that has changed is that for the last week I have sat on my patio cracking and eating nuts, and throwing the empty shells on the ground in the same area as the bread. The birds will not come in this area.
I am hoping that an ornithologist who reads your column will step up and help me solve this mystery.
Dear Elwyn: Our last readership survey showed that 39 ornithologists read this column, so I'm sure at least one of them can come to your assistance. No need to thank me — I live to serve my readers…
Dear Smiley: Growing up on a small farm outside of Marksville "way back when," I'm reminded of the story told by my older cousin Ron, visiting for the summer at the time.
He told of my older sister Nikki, then just a young lass, seeing a bull and cow in the act of increasing the future size of our little herd.
Looking out the window, she excitedly exclaimed, "Dad, come see the cows — they should be in the circus!"