Taxpayer revolt

Sarpy Sam has a post today that will hit very close to the hearts of many overburdened tax payers. He calls it Perverse Pleasure. It resonated with me in a big way. I have partaken of many such delights myself over the years.

One of my favorites was when Gael gave birth to Nick and seven other little Border collie hellions about eight years ago. The advent of eight extra BCs into a home that already has two on site cow biting, sheep herding, toilet paper wrangling, shoe mangling, tongue dangling, hyper active, smarter than the average bear, little black dogs on hand is not an experience for the faint of heart.

Anyhow, as soon as the pups' eyes opened and they discovered the purpose of those appendages that stuck out of each corner of their sausage-shaped bodies, the floor wars began. We had an appliance box in the dining room to provide safe, secure housing for them.

It failed totally, miserably, early and often. The alarm clock languished, unused and unappreciated, as everyone awakened every morning to the thunder of 32 paws, accompanied by the worried click of poor Gael's claws as she tried, unsuccessfully, to keep them in order. There is not a box made that can contain a determined Border collie, let alone what often seemed like a dozen of them.

Of course with eight, (count 'em, eight) little puddle jumpers piddling enthusiastically during every escape escapade, we went through a lot of newspapers.

Reams.

Rafts.

Rooms full.

In self defense and to preserve the withered shreds of my tattered sanity, I took deep delight in choosing my least favorite politicians' photos to protect my floors.

Face up. I would even fold the paper just so, in order to give them star billing so to speak.

Sarpy Sam's post reminded me of that and I thank him.