(An oldie but a goody from publisher emeritus Bill Cooke from 2008.)
SPOILIN’ THE BROTH
Story of the week concerns a thief in Paris who planned to steal some paintings from the Louvre.
After careful planning, he got past security, stole the paintings and made it safely to his van. However, he was captured only two blocks away when his van ran out of gas.
When asked how he could mastermind such a crime and then make such an obvious error, he replied (okay, get ready): “ Mons ieur the re ason I stole the paintings is because...
“I had no Monet “to buy Degas “to make the Van Gogh.” —bc— I’ve relayed this story to you because professor Mark Brady relayed it to me.
Now it’s up to you to relay it to someone else...
If you have De Gaulle. And why not? You probably have nothing Toulouse. —bc— And from The Reporter’s Florida connection, Walter and Barky Michalke, here’s the story of the week No. 2: A new retiree greeter at Wal-Mart just couldn’t get to work on time. Every day, he was 5, 10 or 15 minutes late. But he was a good worker, real sharp, so the boss broached the subject carefully.
“Charlie,” the boss said, “I like your work ethic and you do a bang-up job, but your being late so often is bothersome.”
“Yes, I know, boss, and I’m working on it,” Charlie said.
“Good, you’re a team player,” the boss said. “And Charlie, I noticed on your resume that you’re retired military, and that means discipline. What did they say to you about your tardiness?”
“Well,” Charlie said, “they always just said, ‘Good morning, general’.” —bc— As I write this, there’s a loyal dog asleep by my desk. His name is Aggie. Peg and I adopted him a couple of years ago from a pound in Bryan. Thus his name.
He goes to work with me every day, keeps watch over the homestead at night, and mooches food wherever he can find it in addition to his regular allotment.
Here at the office, we call him our News Hound.
I’m a dog lover. I’ve written about it before. This arrived in my e-mail last week and I’ll share with you: A Dog’s Purpose
Being a veterinarian, I had been called to examine a 10-year-old Irish wolfhound named Belker. The dog’s owners, Ron and wife Lisa and their little boy Shane were all very attached to Belker, and they were hoping for a miracle.
I examined Belker and found he was dying of cancer. I told the family we couldn’t do anything for Belker, and offered to perform the euthanasia procedure for the old dog in their home.
As we made arrangements, Ron and Lisa told me they thought it would be good for 6-year-old Shane to observe the procedure as a learning experience.
The next day, I felt the familiar catch in my throat as Belker’s family surrounded him. Shane seemed so calm, petting the old dog for the last time, that I wondered if he understood what was going on. Within a few minutes, Belker slipped peacefully away.
The little boy seemed to accept Belker’s transition without confusion. We sat together for a while after Belker’s death, wondering aloud about the sad fact that animal lives are shorter than human lives. Shane, who had been listening quietly, piped up, “I know why.”
Startled, we all turned to him. What came out of his mouth next stunned me. I’d never heard a more comforting explanation.
He said, “People are born so that they can learn how to live a good life—like loving everybody all the time and being nice, right?”
He continued, “Well, dogs already know how to do that, so they don’t have to stay as long.”
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