Sunday, March 8, 2009

2006 Vespa for Sale, or Zoie Hooks Up...


Saturday started out like a lot of weekends lately, with empty hours. Marsha called and told me that Blossom wasn't doing too well and she had to go out of town on Sunday for 2 days on business. I'm just thrilled to know someone that's still in business! Blossom is her female Standard Poodle, her mate to Bob, her male. I've always been fond of all three of them. Marsha, recently divorced, has a 2006 Vespa, motor scooter for sale and she's been asking me to try to sell it for her, although me selling it isn't much more likely than her son selling it, who has really been trying. At least me having it will take it out of her daily view, where it represents poor to bad memories.

Back to Blossom.... Marsha called crying that Blossom is worse and she's just leaving the vet's office and he wanted to put her down right then and there, but Marsha just isn't ready to say goodbye. Having just gone through all of this with my baby boy-Bogie, I completely understood, but reminded her that it isn't about her, but Blossom's comfort. After receiving another call Marsha hung up to take it. It was from her Son Zak at ASU.

Our plan was for Marsha to pick me up and I'd drive the scooter home, but naturally the scooter was almost out of gas, she couldn't find the current registration and it's insurance had been cancelled. Not to mention, the title is in her ex-husband's name and before I will attempt to sell it, that has to transferred to a more friendly signer, if you catch my drift? Having not been even close to a motor scooter since I was 12, it was a real test of ability to determine where the gas tank even was. All we needed was Moe to look like the 3 Stooges trying to get the seat to lift up, where I was certain they had hidden the gas tank. After much confusion, suddenly the engine roared to a start, to my surprise. Now, I had to get it off it's kick stand which sounds easier than it was. Determine if it's standard or automatic transmission and how to stop the mother, once it was rolling down the street. Some 40 years earlier, I watched my wife climb on top of my Honda and take off, only to literally drive it into a wall, head on. As she sat on the ground with birds circling her head, she looked up at me with crossed eyes asking, "How do you stop it"? Shaking my head, I looked at my broken new motorcycle and by bruised new wife and said, "Not with a wall."

Marsha followed me to a gas station, where the remaining 2 Stooges tried to stand the bike up on it's kick-stand unsuccessfully and eventually she just held it while I pumped in the gas that we found access to under the seat. If someone was watching us, I'm sure we created some huge laughter. Having filled the 2 gallon gas tank, I was ready to take off.

It would have been nice to find some side streets to practice on, but no luck. I was forced onto a busy street with a 45 MPH limit, not to mention the weather was in the low 60's and rather cool. Because I believe in God, I made it home and called Marsha to deliver my success story.

A couple of hours later was when the phone rang and I answered it. It was Marsha telling me that Blossom was worse and she's cancelled her trip and has to put the poor dog down. I tried to explain to her that the only thing that really got worse was Marsha. She spent the day with Blossom and watched her go through her losing her continence and that she's been like that for weeks, according to Marsha and while Blossom seems to be enjoying life, a little poop to clean up is not a big inconvenience. I think it was then that Marsha invited me over to watch a movie. I replied, (wink) "only if I can bring the Widow Zoie". With Marsha agreeing, we hopped into the Expedition where Zoie whined for 12 minutes non-stop until we arrived. Zoie and I were greeted by Bob and Blossom and Marsha.

Zoie took an immediate liking to Bob, while Blossom just watched, not feeling up to company. Zoie took me aside and gave me her approval of her "fix-up" and wanted to know how he got his coat so curly and white. I just told her it was an Afro and she was good with it. Bob took Zoie to all of his secret spots and tried his best to make Poodle-Danes, but Zoie eventually learned when things get intense, to just sit on her assets, until a better time. A lot of people could learn this from Zoie.

I think that was when Marsha was hunkered down under the blanket and asking me to turn down the lights, that Zoie and I both bolted and went home. When we arrived home, I saw that Zoie was clutching something in her paw and when I inquired, she told me it was Bob's phone number. She's gonna give him a call next week some time and maybe get together. Who knew?

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