Last evening, I lapped up a remnant puddle of warm beer which had spilled onto the kitchen floor.  As I later relaxed beneath the dining room table, my friends were talking from above; about me.  I heard them use my name.  ‘That Willie, he sure has it good.’  Or, she might have said, ‘Bad Willie, his head is like wood.’   Or, it may have been, ‘Fat Willie, he’d quit if he could.’  Doesn’t matter the context, they were talking about ME.  I loved it!

I listened and smiled to myself,  drifting slowly toward sleep. The last thing I heard was something about a bone in the back yard; digging up a large bone…bone digging….huge…bigger than…laugh laugh…Willie…good night.

I floated dreamily through the back door.  I didn’t remember that it was a French door but it must have been.  Only the top half was open as my cloudlike body glided toward the courtyard behind.  The moon seemed Louisiana.  It illuminated an enormous Cheshire Cat balloon, with purple and gold sparkles for fur, hanging weightlessly above the granite and grass.  The balloon wore Budweiser beads.  Her eyes flashed open.  I was pretty certain she was female.  You can’t be sure about cats.  

She whispered, ‘Willie, you big beautiful yellow boy dog.’  She then spat.  I floated closer.  ‘Yes?’  The smell of Magnolia perfume screamed about my nose.    

‘Willie, Willie, Willie,’ she purred.  ‘Would you like to see my Greenie?  It may be too much for you.’  

‘No way,’ I thought.  I’d never seen a Greenie that was too big.  Too chewy, maybe, but never too big!  I loved a challenge.  I hoped that we were talking about an actual Greenie and not a cat’s interpretation of a Greenie or a cat’s body part.  Cats are weird, you know.  Anyway, I don’t think cats eat Greenies.  Do they?  She gestured toward the ground below.  I saw what appeared to be the nub of a green bone protruding from the grass.  Thank goodness.  

‘It’s yours if you can chew it,’ she meowed.

I swiped at it once with my right front paw.  The ground opened to reveal the biggest chew bone I’d ever seen.  It barely fit into my dreamlike state.  It was awesome.  How could I possibly drag it into my world.   I could not.  It was too big.  I would take only what I could handle.  I would be conservative.  I would be sensible.  I began biting through the chew, worried that I may be taking on too much; that I couldn’t handle the size of the piece.  What if this self inflicted challenge was too overwhelming?  What if I could not do justice to this piece? What if it got the best of me?  What if I failed?

The she-cat air bag expanded, wildly distorting her features.  She continued to morph, filling the entire courtyard dream scene.  She showed me her mojo root.  I was in a trance now, under her spell.  ‘I’ll do anything you say.’  Rain came down.  Steam rose above iron gates.  Storm clouds raced, flickering across the moon.

Her face twisted.  She laughed with mocking glee… and then she hissed.  ‘Take off a bigger piece, Willie.  You can do it.  Remember Dog Rule #5!’

‘Bite off more than you can chew; then chew it!’   

I awakened; hungry for a challenge but smelling of stale beer.  

The Wisdom of Willie Bean; and Duane