Flamingo Wars

 

It all started with the Allied Union. WWII was not long over and still much talked about among our elders. In our case the Union, consisting of my next younger brother Mike, my Uncle Larry, and myself, with occasional assistance from some rather more civilized cousins, sequestered important elements of Thanksgiving dinner at one end of Grandma L's round oak table (which lives in my dining room now). Then we threatened to keep them there. Gravy anyone? We never actually deprived anyone of holiday sustenance, but threats abounded...as did amazing food. Man could those aunties, my mama, and grandma cook up a feast.

Later some elements of the Allied Union cruised the streets around Grandma and Grandpa's house in my uncle's car, which was doing double duty as a Sherman tank or maybe a fighter plane. We were just enough years younger than he for the hero worship to run strong. He had a car and a sense of fun and we sure loved our time with him...still do as far as that goes. He is a great guy.

Brandy

Fast forward a few years to the Doggie Doo Dah Olympics. Matt was stationed in the Air Force on another continent on the other side of the world. We communicated with him via....gasp....actual mail...the kind with stamps and all.

Two Bears, another Olympic contender

As evidenced by tape holding the envelopes shut when they arrived at their destination, someone was opening and reading that mail. Although we have always blamed local individuals who had access to those snail mail missives, I wonder now if it was happening on the other end of the mail run. It wasn't exactly the U S of A over there or anything.

At any rate we decided that if someone wanted to read our letters we would give them something to ponder over. Thus the Olympics were born. A Doo Dah, btw, is what we jokingly called a milking machine cup liner, made of high-quality rubber, and designed perfectly for tossing and fetching. We all grew up around farming or worked on farms and had access to the worn out ones, which the dogs loved to play with. 

I had a rescue dog named Brandy that was literally on the table ready for the last needle when I talked my veterinarian boss into giving him to me instead. He would do ANYTHING you could make him understand just for attention and praise. Frisbee, digging where asked...he helped put in our waterline...climbing ladders to run around on the roof, leap tall buildings at a single bound. There was no stopping him. It's a shame things like Dock Dog, Frisbee competition, agility and the like did not exist then, because he was that dog.

Oh, the mail order drama and the tense rivalry between Brandy, his family, and that felonious French floozy, er, poodle, Fifi Lafayette. With all the tricks he knew it was easy to elaborate on the many adventures of the gymnastic, bombastic, fantastic pups. We used pages and pages of hand printed...in a teeny tiny font...and colorfully illustrated, lined paper. I wish I could remember all the stories of the doggy Olympic village, the cheating, the scandals, the ridiculousness of it all. Matt and I were always close, and I missed my little brother something awful. It was fun to make up the crazy stories, and to think about some far away stranger reading them in puzzlement. I think Matt may still have some of the silliness kicking around somewhere. At any rate, our letters soon began to arrive unopened. 

In more recent years there was Moose Quest, which I won...Ha Ha! , Gator Quest, which went to Alan and Amber, a short and so far unsuccessful Bobcat Quest, and now....

Extra points for this salvo by Becky
as I am gnome-o-phobic.

Flamingo Wars! Ta Dah! 

I always liked flamingos, and would like to actually see one for eBird, although I did see some in Florida in the 70s. Meanwhile, my house is littered with flamingos in the bathroom, flamingoes in the parlor, flamingos on the kitchen windowsill over the sink, and even a flamingo in the dining room. The girls have a small amount of discretionary income and are not afraid of Amazon or eBay. 

I, however, am becoming afraid of incoming mail. Turnabout is fair play I suppose, but still...

Flaming-Ingo Sky

Anyhow, our family appears to have a long history of silly, but by heckin' heck, we sure have fun.

Alz fair in love and war