[Stumped]
Late afternoon. Bitter winter day. Hazel paddles past Mom’s office to Dad’s studio with two items in her mouth. Upon entering, she “mlemphs” one item loose from her mouth and adopts a proper position next to Dad’s chair to chew on the second. This, of course, gets Dads attention.
Dad: “Uh, what’s up Hazel? What’s with the wet sheet of paper?”
Hazel: “Mmph (chew crunch), mmph, need ideas….”
Dad: “What do you have in your mouth? I can’t make out what you’re saying.”
Hazel disengages the second item from her mouth which rolls out on to the disheveled piece of paper.
Hazel: “It’s a pencil for writing down ideas.”
Dad reaches down to retrieve the crushed pencil covered in teeth marks.
Dad: “Hazel, I have pencils here, and paper. I appreciate the thought, but I think I’ll use a different one.”
Hazel: “What’s wrong with the one I brought?”
Dad: “Well, the eraser is missing.”
Hazel tilts back her pointed ears, wondering if she is in trouble.
Dad: “Uh…and…I think the batteries are dead in this particular pencil.”
Hazel, feeling a sense of relief, raises herself to explain her current troubles.
Hazel: “Well, you see it’s like this, Mom says my column is due tomorrow, and I have no idea what to write about. I was hoping you could think of something and write it down for me and I could take it to Mom. It’s too cold outside for lizards, no javelina have been passing through, even the coyotes don’t stop by.”
Dad feigns deep concern as Hazel continues.
Hazel: “It hasn’t snowed enough to be fun…we haven’t had a ride in the truck for weeks now and every day seems the same. To top it all off, Jack won’t answer me when I call to him and Tucker’s a total jerk.”
[Editor’s note: “Jack” lives with the family in the home beyond Hazel’s backyard. Not being able to see each other from their respective fenced in areas, they still communicate on various matters with intense barking until they are told to stop. They are “pen pals”.]
Dad reaches for a pencil from his “Hard Day’s Night” coffee cup full of writing utensils. The other coffee cup (not filled with writing instruments) is raised to lips and drained completely of its contents.
Dad: “First of all, Hazel, take a deep breath and we will figure this all out. I have to ask you first though, why is Tucker a total jerk?”
Hazel: “I asked him to help me with ideas for my column, and he said it wouldn’t be fair to his adoring fans to share material with me that he might use for the Flagstaff-Sedona edition. What kind of answer is that to a pack sister in need? And…what is an adoring fan? Do I have adoring fans? If I don’t, Why don’t I have adoring fans? What’s so special about Tucker who hasn’t even been writing as long as I have? It’s not fair!”
Dad: “Let’s go back to the deep breath part Hazel. We’ll worry about who has an adoring public later.”
Hazel: “Fans!”
Dad: “Let’s worry about fans later and concentrate on some ideas for now. So what about how your Christmas went, or your birthday two days after that?”
Hazel: “That’s a great idea. I love the holidays. The toys and the celebratory whipped creme off the spoon. The shark you got me for my birthday was cool. My old one just got to the point where Mom couldn’t sew it back together again. I wish Kiera would quit taking my new one outside. She gets pine needles on it. So what else can we think of to write about?”
Dad: “What about the used dryer sheet that fell out of the laundry and had gained enough static charge to stick to your butt?”
Hazel: “Dad…”
Dad: “…and you totally freaked out, running in all directions…”
Hazel: “Dad…”
Dad: “and we’re yelling for you to stop so we could help you, but we were laughing so hard, we couldn’t catch you…”
Hazel: “Dad…”
Dad: “And you…(laughing)…you thought that rubbing your side on the table leg would get it off…(more laughing)…and Mom’s water glass tipped and poured on Tucker…”
Hazel: “Dad!”
Dad: (catching his breath) “What?”
Hazel: “I’m thinking maybe that wouldn’t be the best story for my column. I mean, I have an adoring public the think of.”
Dad: “Fans.”
Hazel: “Right, fans. So I think maybe I’ll stick with the Holiday angle for this column. You know, try to maintain the overall decorum of the publication.”
Dad: (with feigned seriousness) “Yes, of course, Hazel. That might be the best course.”
Hazel: “Thanks for your help Dad. I’ll get Mom to type it up. If you’re not going to use that pencil I brought you, can I have it?”
Dad: “That would be a no, Hazel.”
Tucker enters the studio and sits next to Hazel.
Tucker: “What are we doing?”
Hazel: “We, are working on ideas for my column.”
Dad: “If you don’t have an idea for your column, Tuck, I got an idea Hazel isn’t going to use.”
Hazel: “Dad! Decorum! Remember decorum!”
Hazel exits in disgust.
Tucker: “Thanks Dad, but I’m all set with my column.”
Dad: “What’s yours going to be about?”
Tucker: “Hazel and the dryer sheet incident.”
~Hazel Bazel Rocket Dog
