to a new epawsode of Bacon’s SHOW&TELL… this time something what you loved and carried around efurrywhere you went…
Mom disliked dolls, she never wanted to be a doll-mum (EWWWWW!) or one of Barbie’s freaky friends… she loved stuffies, like me… so may I introduce…or intro-moo-se:
Moo was a gift from her granny as my momma had to leave the little village and moved with her pawrents to a town. Far away from horses, dogs, sheeps, pigs and cows… ok, there were cows too in that town, but they wore high heels on her hooves instead muck and they had no milk butt bad words… butt there was Moo and Moo was a part of the country life my mom missed sorely, the life were you can wear wellies and an ole jogging pants, the life were you can play on the street , because cars were still a sensation in that village on the arse end of the world… The life were no one says:
Beehive Behave! or Be quiet! and where no one laughs when you wear chicken feathers on your head because your greatest dream is : to be POCAHONTAS.
that’s NOT a cigarette, that’s the stick of a Lollipop…just saying…
Sadly my mommas exterieur was definitely NOT Pocahontas-like , butt anyway, let’s say her tribal name could be:
Moo and my momma were inseparable and even as my mom was Hutch and her BFF was Starsky, Moo was the pawlice-cow they had instead of a dog.
Moo looks a little miscolored, that’s from all the tears my momma cried in Moo’s fur, because life wasn’t easy for a little rube what was transplanted to a town… WITHOUT a Weimaraner…
Moo is still alive and for this post I met this guy the furst time:
Nice to MEAT ya!
Well ok, PEACE. No one wants a steak from a 40 years old cow, right?
So no Weimaraner, no cow nor mom was hurt for this post…