Our dog is back on top

Several of us had the opportunity to participate in a delightful soiree on Sunday. The evening consisted of a wide variety of performances.

The Chair playing his hurdy-gurdy with the first act, a trio of old-timers playing favourite songs from their youth. After this the Chair became the master of ceremonies, introducing the other acts with his usual wit and charm.

As a regular at these soirees, I usually do a solo performance of some kind, but for once I took a back seat and did a whistling harmony and counter melody accompaniment for two folks who do lovely Kate Bush covers.

Conch Shell was there, but like here, she stayed in the audience.

Then there was Coyote. He read a selection of some of his more popular poetry. He started with two of his emo poems, then went dramatic with Yelling for Stella (dedicated to me of course), and closed with a breathless Straight Eight.

And after the show, it became obvious that our furry friend doesn't need an online dating service. He just needs to get out and read his poems in front of eligible babes. One little honey sat down next to him and started telling him that his poetry held thoughts she had but didn't know how to express. While her boyfriend was in the same room.

I'm told that another woman who may or may not be attached poetically said, "that Coyote is just my type. I'd like to jump his bones."


Anonymous said...

Such keen observations, Dwarfie. You missed a couple, though: (1)although coyotes normally howl at the moon, our Coyote took a more reverent tone during the evening. In fact so reverent, the audience had to become rather hushed to hear him. You could have heard the proverbial pin drop in that very crowded room. A subtle way to play hard-to-get ("if they can't hear me, they'll lean in even closer, hmmm")? Or just a strained voice, merely the by-product of a howlingly late adventure the previous evening? You decide.
(2)Coyote arrived at the last possible minute, and left before some of his closest friends could even chat with him. You know, the old "the rarer a commodity, the more you want it" approach, and (3) I myself heard that "bones" comment straight from the admirer's mouth. I figure she either wants him, or she has some left-over Purina treats she wants to reward him with. Either way...

The Chair said...

Couldn't agree more with you, Dwarfie. While playin' the hurdy-gurdy has its charm, nothing matches the mojo from our furry friend's poetry. And the sly bugger didn't even mention his good deed he performed the previous evening in coming to Aggie's rescue. Serious chick bait. I caught the "bones" comment too.

coyote said...

Dude! Flattered, but my front paws look really wierd. In fact, whose body did you graft my head onto, anyway? I seem a little too anthropomorphised for some reason. Got kind of an Anubis thing goin' on, maybe? Thanks for the art!

4th Dwarf said...

Sorry, C, I have trouble drawing fingers.

coyote said...

Then draw claws. Works for me.