Wintertime Nighs

By the time we got to the farm we had started to see some real signs of winter. Snowfall sprinkled across the roads and ditches like talcum spilled on a bathroom floor. We pulled in at the barns and I immediately went looking for Dee.

“What’s the problem?” I asked when I found her.

“What problem?”

“You said you needed me.”

“Oh that,” she chuckled. “Would you mind walking the pooches? I’ve got to do some paperwork.”

“That’s it?” I looked at Clive, but he turned away, twisting his toe into the ground and making like he was whistling. I sighed. “Fine,” I said. “Do your paperwork. We need some exercise anyway.”

“Thank you,” she smiled.

So we took hold of the dogs, even as the snow started to fall, and headed out into the forest.

It was very pleasant. Fresh, cool air braced us and we walked through the forest for about an hour as the dogs sniffed and snuffed and snoofed all over the place. They had such a time! Even Rusty, who is usually so calm and quiet on his walkies, seemed to be having an exceptionally good time. Of course anyone else would have wondered why, but to me it was pretty obvious.

Follow along to learn more about the KerDoodles, and if you like, contact me to find out if you’ve got a KerDoodle of your own.

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Dedication

Rusty joined us for the trip back to the farm, and I noticed that his KerDoodle was no longer brown. I looked to Clive for an explanation.

“There’s stress in the air so he reverts,” he said.

“I guess that makes sense. I’m pretty sure I change colour when I’m stressed, too.”

We had to pass by the airport to get to the road that heads back out to the farm, and that’s where I saw one of the most amazing KerDoodle sights yet. I was watching an airplane on short final as I sat at a light – it was flying in, right to left. Its wheels were down.

“Well, would you look at that!” I hollered, and quick as a whip – and apparently reading my mind – Clive picked up my cell phone from the console and snapped a pic.

“Well, I’ll be a sonofagun,” I said. “What do you suppose happened to him?”

Clive smiled. “I’m guessing he was in the John when they closed the gate and he did what he had to, to stay with his assignment.”

“Well, that’s dedication,” I said, a new-found respect for KerDoodles and their tenacity coursing through me.

The light changed and we continued our drive to the farm.

* * *

Follow along to learn more about the KerDoodles, and if you like, contact me to find out if you’ve got a KerDoodle of your own.

Everybody’s Got One

The next day we went for another walk, this time to the corral just west of the house where Clive and I found Ell watching Dee pick up some wind-blown branches. It didn’t escape my attention that Ell was not alone.

“I thought everyone had just one KerDoodle,” I posed.

“Well, everybody has at least one, but there’s no technical limit, and we KerDoodles tend to gravitate to people we like.”

I looked at him and he smiled.

“By the look of it Ell’s got three,” he continued. “Hang on.”

He walked over and spoke to the nearest little chap, who was purple, with an orange baseball cap. In a moment Clive came back and reported to me:

“As I thought. KerDoodles will sometimes check in with a new person if their regular assignment is asleep, or boring. These two extras are actually assigned to those two horses over there, so technically they’re working and resting. They’re multi-tasking.”

“Interesting,” I said. “Let’s go for a ride. I wanna see if some of my other friends and family also have KerDoodle company.”

He looked at me. “Still not convinced? Okay fine, let’s go.”

The car bore us both swiftly and warmly away from the farm and back to my place, where I found Rusty waiting by the front door for his Gamma.

“Hey,” I hollered after enjoying a happy reunion with little Rusty, “that one’s brown!”

“I told you – we adapt. Over time, and when we’re feeling comfortable, we lose the initial hue and adopt a colour more suited to our subject. That KerDoodle has adopted Rusty’s colour to help him feel very comfortable.

“Amazing,” I said.

I made a nice sandwich and we sat at the table to eat – well, I ate, Clive watched. Then suddenly the phone rang and we both darn near jumped out of our skins. After a few moments, listening, I hung up the receiver and said: “we have to go back to Dee’s place. There’s trouble at the farm.”

* * *

Follow along to learn more about the KerDoodles, and if you like, contact me to find out if you’ve got a KerDoodle of your own.

Teachers

We decided to head back to the house for dinner, but to do that we had to pass through the barn again, and on the way we saw a most idyllic scene.

Now, to describe it properly I need to explain something. You recall, of course, that I secured my ability to see KerDoodles from a bump on the head. Well, children don’t need that sort of thing at all. Children and animals, in fact, have the ability to see KerDoodles as much as they want, and to interact with them at will. Have you never heard a child tell of their ‘friend’, which you interpreted (because you couldn’t see them) as ‘imaginary friend’? Well, that sort of thing goes on all the time. Actually, kids see KerDoodles quite easily – they just don’t think they’re anything unusual so they don’t often bring them up in conversation.

Anyway, we passed the Lounge by the arena, and saw little Jewel and her KerDoodle enjoying a very nice catalogue moment.

“We’re excellent teachers,” said Clive. “We’re patient, and soft-spoken, and completely understanding. We also have a vast knowledge base to draw on when teaching – especially when we’re teaching kids. And we love it. We love to teach.”

We watched them learn together for a while, then headed back to the house. I would prepare dinner while Clive had a bit of a nap. Poor chap – I think I was wearing him out. Here he is now, in fancy jammies, copping a snooze with Dee and Ell’s pooches.

Follow along to learn more about the KerDoodles, and if you like, contact me to find out if you’ve got a KerDoodle of your own.

Before and After

Dee rode off with her little friend to the other end of the paddock and we turned to walk back toward the barns. After a while, walking in silence, we both suddenly heard splashing and noisy chatter from up the hill.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“Over there,” said Clive. “At the pond.”

We both took off running, and sure enough there were Ell and Jay, working away in the pond.

“What are they doing?” I asked.

“Reed control. They have to pull out the bullrushes and cattails to keep them from taking over.”

We sat on the grass and watched for a while. Ell was in front, Jay at the rear. They were reaching over the edge of the canoe, lugging and tugging and mugging to get the silly reeds to give up their squishy hold on the pond-bottom. And there, of course, snugged right in with the two men, were the now obligatory KerDoodles. I’m not sure if they were helping, but they were certainly having a good time.

As we watched them all work I have to say I noticed the canoe wobbling rather a lot – this way and that, up and down, side to side, wobble-wobble-wobble... It seemed pretty clear to me that some of those reeds just didn’t want to let go of their nice little perch in the pond, but still the men plugged away, tugged away, doing everything they could to get them out.

They worked their way along the edge of the reeds, back and forth, taking one at a time, piling a few up in the boat, then rowing them all over to the bank. They worked hard and laughed hard until finally they came across a particularly stubborn little fellow, holding on to its place in the world with all the might it possessed. Ell grabbed it with both hands and pulled. He pulled and he tugged, and he wrestled and he wrangled, but still that hard-headed little reed said no. And the boat wobbled terribly! Of course, Jay leaned back to try to counteract all that wobbling, but when Ell gave one final, furious, body-clenching tug to rip the thing from its roots it was more than the narrow little boat could bear. Suddenly, in an apoplectic fit of balancing and counterbalancing the poor, confused little craft could take it no more. Over she went, spilling everyone on board into the watery shallows.

Well, suffice it to say that only the KerDoodles were laughing. KerDoodles, so Clive tells me, love to get wet. They like their bath time and shower time – they even like to splash around in the kitchen sink when no one is looking! Hey, I can’t count the number of times I’ve found water on the kitchen counters that I just couldn’t explain.

Ell and Jay fished themselves out of the pond, lay the boat on the bank, and headed off to their homes to dry off. Clive and I watched all this from a safe distance. I watched the KerDoodles, laughing and playing with each other, alone now, and I confess that I couldn’t help but curl my lips a little bit too.

Then I looked up into the sky. The clouds seemed a little bit thicker now than they had before. They looked heavy with moisture, and I remembered what Clive had said about the weather being about to change. I hugged myself and snugged my coat in more tightly, as if to get ready for something really horrible.

Perhaps it wouldn’t change quite that fast, but I felt like I should be ready.

* * *

Follow along to learn more about the KerDoodles, and if you like, contact me to find out if you’ve got a KerDoodle of your own.

Hanging On

“Let’s keep going,” I said, and we carried on up the hill and across a large paddock toward a gravel lane. On the lane we saw a couple of young ladies on horseback, going for a light hack, and, of course, along with them were the requisite KerDoodles. This was a little different, though, in that there was a third who apparently wanted to go with them, but for whom it seemed there was no room. We watched this for a little while, and listened to the barking back-and-forth between the KerDoodles, and couldn’t help but stand there and smile.

“Just life as a KerDoodle,” smiled Clive. “Basically, we like hanging out with you human-types.”

I smiled too. We joined the gravel lane, but our hike took us the other way, down the slope toward a little outdoor paddock where some other ladies were working on horse things.

“There’s Dee!” I hollered when we got closer, pointing her out in my excitement.

“And look!” added Clive. “She’s got a KerDoodle too!”

“Looks like that one’s just started learning how to ride.”

“How to hold on, anyway.”

“At least she’s wearing a helmet.”

I paused to wonder: “Hey, can KerDoodles get hurt?”

“Of course. We have to be careful too. We are, however, a great deal more flexible than you, and our forms are a bit more forgiving of the bumps and scrapes of life. And that’s a good thing, because quite often we have to take the hit for you.”

“Um, have you taken a lot of bumps for me?”

At this Clive rolled his eyes and fixed me with his gaze. “Honestly? You have no idea.”

* * *

Follow along to learn more about the KerDoodles, and if you like, contact me to find out if you’ve got a KerDoodle of your own.

Vanilla

After my most invigorating dream I decided to get up. I swung my legs out over the edge of the bed and rubbed the sand out of my eyes. I stood up, pulled on my lightest sweater, and opened the door to my room. I went along the hall to the living room and saw Clive, still napping, in one of the living room chairs.

I made some deliberate noises, walking by, to see what it would take to wake him, but I didn’t really have to.

“I’m awake,” he said. “I’m only ever asleep when you are.”

“Wanna go for a walk?” I asked.

“Sure. Where?”

“There are some fields near here…”

“Well sure, as long as we don’t encounter any coyotes or such.”

We struck out for the north twenty. For October the weather was glorious – sunny and warm – friendly, in fact – completely non-threatening. We walked over hills, over dales, and yes, along some dusty trails before finally stopping for a bit of a rest.

“Hey,” I said, “stand over there and I’ll draw you.”

He did, and I did.

After a while, resting, he said: “I told you the weather’s going to change, right?”

“Yes, I think you mentioned it. Do you have to cover yourselves more when the weather turns cold?”

“Well, we’re not prone to the cold in the same way that you are, but the wind can smudge our lines so yes, we cover up.” He hesitated. “Of course, I don’t have much of a wardrobe.”

“Well, we’ll just have to see what we can do about that,” I said. “You know, when the weather turns.”

* * *

Follow along to learn more about the KerDoodles, and if you like, contact me to find out if you’ve got a KerDoodle of your own.