I’m sorry; forgive me. Clean me up, please, Jesus. I didn’t mean to hurt you, or desert you ‘cause I love you so much. I admit it; I did it. I didn’t mean to let you down. Please, Jesus, turn my life around and give me another chance.
— Dallas Fort Worth Mass Choir 

 

So, er, uh . . . I guess y’all missed me cos y’all been blowing up my email. Thanks a bunch. It’s good to know y’all care. 😉  But y’all havta remember: I cain’t type an if Mama T ain’t up to it, I cain’t tell y’all what’s goin on. Memba what happened da last time I tried ta send y’all a message? Ain’t nan one of y’all undastan it so I decided ta wait.

I be glad when da 26th come so we can get the heck up outta dodge cos I’m sick and tied of Mama T being sick an tied. Her doc talkin bout putting her on allergy shots. She be havin dem headaches all da time an she had ta have an out patient thing to laser cut dem pre-cancerous cells outta her (Ms. Kimberly, dat’s CN2 for you). Anyhoo . . . Mama T last day at da looney bin is on da 18th cos you know she ain’t gonna be up in dere on her birthday. But we makin preparations for da move so it’s all good.

An for those of y’all who tol me I shudn be tryna kick my boyz to da curb so quick . . . well, I ain’t sayin y’all was right but me an da boyz be hangin again. I forgave dem an we let by gones be so there ya go.

But guess what happen dat brought us back tagetha? Me an Mama T was walkin down da skreet an dis crazy as Yorkshire Terrier sprinted out of his yard and nipped my heel. I yelped and turned aroun an dat damn dog looked like Jack Nicholson in “Da Shining.”  I looked at Mama T an said, “Aw hell naw. I ain’t fightin dat crazy mangy mutt. He look like a crack head an you know crack heads crazy.” Jack started runnin roun in circles an y’all know Mama T can’t handle all dat spinnin widout getting motion sick so she pick up da little punk an tossed him in da bushes. He was freakin out like a cat in a tree but his tizzy fit was so damn wild he ended up fallin out to da groun. So me an Mama T start walkin again but his azz charges at us. Mama T picked me up an held me in da air like Kunta Kinte holdin up Mz. Kizzy. But dat didn stop that crazy mofo. Instead of just walkin away, his azz started jumpin up like he was on a trampoline an as high as I was up in da sky, his azz kept nippin my tail.

I musta let out a yelp cos in no time Mike an Fiddy came boltin down da skreet but instead of crazy azz Jack runnin back to his porch, he turned on his heel an charged Mike. Before any of us knew what was goin on, dat crazy azz dog bit Mike’s thumb out of his paw!

Mama T: His dew claw.

Say what na?

Mama T: Humans have thumbs/fingers. The little claw on a dog’s paw is called a dew claw.

@-@ . . . Uh . . . how many of y’all readin dis knew dat? Anybody? Somebody? Nobody? Ok then. We just gone keep on callin it a thumb, how bout dat?

Anyway, Mike was so stunned. He looked down to da blood tricklin from his paw an fainted. I ain’t nevah seent no dog faint an if I wasn so worried bout Mike, I wudda laughed. But instead, I started screamin, “Don’t leave me, Mike. Hang in dere, big boy. Donna luv you. It’s gonna be alright. Breathe, Mike. Breathe!” Fiddy was sitting there like, “What da hell just happened?”

Mama T put me down an I walk over ta Mike an lick his face so he know I ain’t leavin him. Mama T went ovah to crazy Jack an she didn even bend down. She just waited for Jack to jump up in da air again an when he did, she snatched da –ish out of his little punk azz. Den she pulled out her phone an walked ovah to his doe and started poundin. And guess what, his human woman just as crazy as him. Mama T was tryna tell da lady what her stupid dog did an she was yellin bout Mama T squeezin her baby too hard. So Mama T starts ta dial 9-1-1 but before she could press da 1, here come Virgil Tibbs an dis time stead of donut crumbs on his shirt, he got some bbq stains (I know cos I licked his tie when he came ovah to pet me).

While Tibbs is tryna convince crazy human woman to calm da frack down, da animal control people come an start workin on Mike. Jack crazy human woman yellin bout how don’t nobody mess wid her baby an she gonna hurt somebody if they do. So Mama T pull her shades down to the tip of her nose and put her hand on her stun gun (like it’s a real gun) an wink at da lady. Den she point her finger like she gonna shoot da woman an push her sunglasses back up on her face an walk away. Da woman looked like she saw a ghost an ran in da house. Tibbs ax Mama T how she gonna threaten that lady wid him standin there. Mama T say he ain’t heard her say nuthin so how he gonna cuse her of threatenin sumbody. He say he almost pissed his pants from dat look Mama T gave dat woman so if dat wudn a threat, he’on know what is. Mama T say whatevah an walk away.

Mama T ax da animal control where they gonna take Mike so she can tell his human. Da animal control take Mike AND crazy Jack away an den me, Fiddy and Mama T walk to Fiddy’s house. Fiddy look so sad. I kept sayin, “Woo woo woo. There there, Fiddy. Mike gonna be alright.” I cain’t believe dat little azz dog got 3 dogs dat weigh bout 100 times what he weigh ta walk away wid they tails tucked. Tsk tsk tsk . . . I’on know why people be calling dem dogs toy dogs cos ain’t no playin goin on when they be roun.

When we got to Fiddy an Mike’s house, Mama T knocked on da door an Mike and Fiddy’s human man answer da doe. Da-yam! Dat man was high as a kite and he looked like a white Bob Marley, cept his locs looked nastier. Note to white people: y’all hair ain’t meant to be locked. Dat’s nasty. Stop tryna be like black people an comb yo head.

Mama T told him what had happened an he looked like he got mad at Mama T for killin his buzz. Mama T ain’t care. She tol him he lucky she da one dat come tell him stead of Tibbs or animal control or he might lose Mike an Fiddy. He was talkin so slow I’on know what he said an Mama T say she ain’t know ether but she was gonna go check on Mike ta make sure he was alright.

Mike survived but his human man ain’t have no insurance on him like Mama T got on me so it cost him a grip to get Mike home. An dat crazy Jack done attacked otha dogs so he had ta say goodbye to dis world. Don’t be surprised if da next time I talk ta y’all his human woman an Mama T have it out cos dat crazy woman blame Mama T.

Na y’all know how me an my boyz got back tagetha. I guess we all need each otha an like Mama T say, Ain’t nobody perfect, specially me, so I better learn how ta forgive or Ima be one lonely hound dog.

Mama T say she gonna let Mike an Fiddy come ovah befo we leave. Mike be actin all strange now. I hope he get sum hep befo he lose his mind. An befo he come ovah cos ain’t nobody tryna be hangin wid no party pooper.

I’on know if Mama T be lettin me talk ta y’all befo we leave on day 26th so if she don’t, I’ll holla back when we get to Podunk.

Peace out!
Donna