For Sale: Talking Dog

by Woody

FOLLOW ME ON INSTAGRAM: @woodywoodburn

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Treated to Unexpected

Tall Tale in Bookstore

Once upon a time, only a few weeks past actually, I was treated to a story in a bookstore, which is a very good place for stories.

In particular, it was Mrs. Figs’ Bookworm in Camarillo, which is just about the best place in the world for stories because its owner, Connie Halpern, makes storytimes come to life when she reads aloud to children ages 1 to 102.

This story, however, did not come from Connie’s lips. Rather, it was told by 96-year-old Starr Thompson. In addition to being a Bookworm regular, Thompson is a former Flying Tiger as evidenced by the blue-and-orange ball cap he was wearing.

After serving in the Air Force in both WWII and Korea, Thompson joined the First American Volunteer Group (AVG) of the Chinese Air Force. These “Flying Tigers” were composed of U.S. military pilots recruited by President Franklin Roosevelt’s orders in 1941 before Pearl Harbor.

I did not write down the facts as I listened, only later, so if I get anything wrong the errors are mine. If I retell matters accurately, all credit goes to Mr. Thompson. And so, as memory serves…

A young man was driving through rural Ohio – which, coincidentally, is where Connie Halpern grew up, further proving truth is stranger than fiction – and a yard sign in front of a farmhouse caught his eye: For Sale / Talking Dog / $50.

The man put on the brakes, made a U-turn and pulled into the driveway.

“Hello,” greeted the farmer from a rocking chair on the porch. “You lost? I seen ya turnaround. Need directions?”

“No, no, I’m not lost,” the visitor answered. “I saw your sign about the talking dog and was curious – what’s the gimmick?”

“Ain’t no gimmick,” said the farmer.

The visitor rolled his eyes and turned to leave, but before he had taken his first footstep of retreat the farmer rejoined: “He’s ’round back. Go see for yourself.”

Curiosity getting the better of him, the visitor headed to the backyard where he found a Labrador, chocolate in color, sleeping in the shade of a buckeye tree. The dog raised its head as the visitor approached.

“Can I help you?”

The visitor twisted his neck to look at the farmer who had followed behind him, but there was no one there.

“I said, can I help you?” the Labrador repeated.

The visitor nearly fainted in his tracks. Upon regaining his senses, like a dazed boxer during a referee’s ten count, the visitor stammered: “You … really … can talk?”

“Of course I can talk,” the Labrador replied. “Have a seat and I’ll tell you even more.”

The gobsmacked visitor plopped down on the grass.

“I used to work at the airport sniffing for drugs and listening to conversations,” the Labrador continued. “If I heard something suspicious, I’d go tell my superior. Travelers can be an annoying bunch, though, so after a while I quit.

“Before long, I found I missed the excitement so I got a job with the FBI sniffing for explosives. I loved the thrill of it, but it’s a young dog’s game so last year the FBI forced me to retire – put me out to pasture here.”

The visitor, hardly able to believe his ears, returned to the front porch and said in astonishment: “My god, your dog is amazing! He’s worth a million dollars, at least, so why are you selling him so cheaply?”

“It’s all BS,” the farmer said, curtly. “Buster didn’t do any of that airport security and FBI stuff like he claims. He’s a good-for-nothing liar.”

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FOLLOW ME ON INSTAGRAM: @woodywoodburn

Woody Woodburn writes a weekly column for The Ventura County Star and can be contacted at WoodyWriter@gmail.com. Follow him on Twitter and Instagram at woodywoodburn. His books are available at www.WoodyWoodburn.com.

Check out my memoir WOODEN & ME: Life Lessons from My Two-Decade Friendship with the Legendary Coach and Humanitarian to Help “Make Each Day Your Masterpiece” and my essay collection “Strawberries in Wintertime: Essays on Life, Love, and Laughter” …