Peanut Economics: Barking My Way to the Bigtop





Hello dear friends. I have been on a bit of a hiatus from my blog, but I am back with a new adventure! My summer was spent doing all sorts of fun things like barking at the birds, rolling on worms, and avoiding baths as much as possible. As Fall has been approaching however, I have once again shifted my focus back to finding another nifty odd job to help out the family.

 

This time around, I looked to the world of entertainment. There is nothing quite like bringing a smile to people's faces, and who is more adept at making you laugh than a clown. You guessed it friends; I decided to join the circus and become a clown.

I caught up with the Ringleader Brothers and Barnabas Bailey Cream circus to try my paw at the funnest job ever! I could feel the call of the open road. I could smell the funnel cakes and loose meat sandwiches, the hot dog stands and foot long french fries cooked in old grease. Yes sir-ee, it was the job for me.

The only catch was finding the right routine to dazzle the ring master and convince him I would be a great addition to his retinue of clowns. I decided to pull out all the stops and make myself as flexible as possible since there are so many different types of clowns in the world.

I practiced my sad clown face in honor of the great Emmit Kelly - a personal favorite of my beloved grammy.

I even tried my paw at being a scary clown like the ones featured in Stephen King novels and movies that my mommy won't let me watch.

Ultimately, however, I elected to go with a happy clown, since everybody loves a happy clown. Once I decided which clown I was going to be, I had to come up with a few acts which would catch the ring master's attention.

I had heard once that rubber chickens were really funny, and I thought it might be a good choice to incorporate in a fun clown routine. There was only one problem.....no one told me what I was supposed to do with the rubber chicken once I had him.

Apparently, nomming the rubber chicken and making it squeak like a little girl is not considered appropriate entertainment when you are a circus clown.

I made a similar mistake with a squeaky ball. I didn't know I was supposed to juggle it. The circus needs to publish a manual if they are going to be so persnickety about performance requirements.

Since I struck out with the rubber chicken and the squeaky ball, I knew I had to find a way to wow the ring master. I dug deep within myself and decided to break out into song. I belted out an Ethel Merman-styled version of "I Gotta Be Me."

I immediately followed it up with a jaunty rendition of "You Fill Up My Senses." My eyes were misty by the time I reached the end of it.

It seemed like the tides were finally turning in my favor......until we reached the topic of clown cars. There were no clown cars to be had anywhere. I had to settle for a clown wagon.

Somehow, it just didn't have the same comedic effect and wasn't quite as funny. It turns out, the wagon was strike number three against me.

When it came time for the ring master to offer his critique of my overall performance, he told me I wasn't the right fit for his circus.

The ring master said I took my job too seriously. Apparently, that is not an attractive quality in a circus clown. Go figure........

Well, it looks like the open  road will just have to wait for awhile. I may not have made a good clown in the eyes of that ring master, but it doesn't mean I wasn't a great clown. Sometimes others may not appreciate the talents we bring to the table, but it doesn't mean we aren't terrific.

 

It doesn't really matter what other people think about me. The thing that matters most is what I think of myself. I put my heart and soul into my performance, and I can be proud of that. I may not be a clown in the circus, but I can still bring joy to those around me. And who knows. Maybe there is another circus out there who appreciates a squeaky chicken nomming, show tune singing, wagon dragging clown. I'll look for that circus in the morning! Just remember, no matter what, I think you are terrific!

 

 

Peanut Wisdom - The Gift of Friendship

Hello dear friends. There are few treasures in this world that can compare to friendship. It is a fundamental truth I have known my entire life, but recently, I was reminded about it when I received a very special package from a very special friend.

It all started a few weeks ago when I bid on my dear friend Jiff's picture that was up for auction on an animal rescue site. The picture he had posted was one of my favorites. The money was going to a great cause so my mommy helped me put a bid in. And guess what? I won! I was so excited. I received notice the picture was on its way, but little did I know, my friend had sent me something extra special. When the mailman delivered an entire box and I discovered it was from Jiff, I did a big happy dance in celebration!

There were all kinds of goodies in the box! There were 2 beautiful pictures of my dear friend Jiff...

Including the pawtographed one which was my all time favorite that I won in the auction....

There were also lots of fun toys and nummy treats too that made my mouth water. Delicious!

There were so many fun things to play with, I had a hard time deciding which one was my favorite. I explored every inch of the wonderful gift box, thanking God for my sweet friend and the wonderful surprise he sent me.

Then I found the squeaky pig, and I knew I had the best friend EVER! After all who doesn't like a squeaky pig?

Of course, a warning for those of you who find yourself in the presence of a squeaky pig. They have been known to trigger odd, often scary fits of uncontrollable playfulness followed by unexplained memory loss when the fit is over. This could just be an urban legend, but I am not so sure....

Now, where was I? Shoot, I forgot what I was talking about. Well, at any rate, there was so much in my beautiful box, I decided to share.

There was way too much for just one little pup, so I brought the box out and let my puppy and kitty brothers and sisters enjoy the bounty as well.

It was a night to remember! We played games, we squeeked toy, we ate lots of treats together, all in honor of my dear friend Jiff. I won't tell you how many treats I feasted upon that evening, but I left narry a crumb to give me away.

In the end, the best gift was the gift of friendship....and the beautiful reminder that I was loved by my friend. Knowing that fact was better than all the toys, squeaky pigs or nummy banana treats the world could make.

Thank you Jiff for being so wonderful, but thank you most of all for making me feel special and for reminding me that friendship, above all other things, is the greatest gift of all.

Peanut Economics - The Shiver Me Timbers of Finding Square Fish!

Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum raisin me maties! Shiver me timbers it has been a long time since my last post, but I have a mighty good excuse! I've been taking my fill of the salty sea air and trying my paw at commanding a vessel as a Gorton's fisherman.

Don't let the little duckies on my slicker fool you....it hasn't been all fun and ball games. Okay.... there were a few ball games, but even us crusty sailors need a break from time to time from the hard-driving grind of sea life.

At any rate ...... back to my salty fish tale. There I was, the great Captain McPeanut, tasked with finding a new source for the delectable flaky entree for the nummy blue and yellow Gorton's label .... but where does one find flaky square fish?

It was a challenge I was ready to take on, preservatives and all! Or my name wasn't Captain McPeanut!

My crew and I set off in search of a school of square fish. We searched high, and we searched low, but we could not seem to catch a break. I am ashamed to say at times, tempers flared a might warm, and I, as captain, barked a few orders now and then.....may the crew forgive me.

Finally, after weeks of sea and shame, AVAST! We caught our break. A crusty crab let loose he had spotted a school of fast moving square fish off the coast of Japan. We had nary a moment to lose. We set sail for the oriental seas, feeling as though fairer winds were behind us.

I knew when we arrived at our destination, we couldn't risk just dropping our nets and hoping a few square fish would happen into them. Oh no. I had to go the way of the great explorers like Jacques Cousteau who sought other elusive creatures in their natural habitat - creatures like the great white, the colossal squid, the loch-ness monster, the yeti, and the fair deal. I decided I had to step off my ship and go where the fish were, so I did the only thing I could do. I became a fish myself.

A hammerhead shark to be exact. It seemed a natural choice. They are always depicted as such happy fish with all those teeth. Always smiling. Always saying hello to all the other fish. Very sociable from everything I had ever seen.

I took my deep dive and started working my magic. I mingled. I charmed. I said hello to everyone. I talked about the weather. I wished each fish a good day. I asked after their mothers. The only problem was, every time I came near enough to ask any pointed questions about the square fish I was seeking, all of the other fish swam away in fright. As a matter of fact, no one would really talk to me, no matter how nice I was. Even though I smiled my best smile.

I felt so self conscious in fact, I went back to the ship without ever seeing a single square fish. And you know what I found out later? A big secret I wish I had known ahead of time. Sharks aren't really happy fish; they're scary fish! All those teeth are for EATING not SMILING! That's why no one would talk to me! They thought I was hungry, not happy. Boy did I feel silly!

You know what though? That's okay. I also found out the fish I was supposed to be looking for aren't naturally square, and they don't come breaded in the water. I wasn't supposed to be catching flaky, breaded, square fish filets. I was supposed to be catching real live fishies that are pretty and colorful, and I couldn't do that. (To be honest, I kept wondering how the breading on those square fish filets was supposed to keep from getting all soggy in the water anyways.)

So I guess I didn't make a very good fisherman, but I sure had fun shivering up those timbers. You know, you don't have to be the best at everything or even particularly great at most things as long as you can find joy in the things you do. Here's hoping you find your joy in the midst of your fish tales!