Running with the big -- and little -- guys

Before we present today's post, we wish to share some wisdom that came from Joe immediately upon waking this morning, no doubt imparted through an important dream, and containing information that we would all do well to heed in these troubled days:

"You gotta set it up so the big moose doesn't poop on your head."

He flatly denies this, but I'm thinking that this is maybe how those people who write things like "Who Moved My Gouda" get their start, by uttering bits of wisdom when they are half-awake. So in future days, you might keep your eye out for a bestseller called "Don't Let the Big Moose Poop on Your Head (or Anywhere Else on Your Person"). Of course, you might also look for a little leprechaun at the end of the rainbow.

We turn now from the fascinating subject of moose to the even more fascinating subject of prairie dogs. Let me just say at the outset that, although nothing in my study of prairie dogs would indicate that you should take particular care not to let them poop on your head, it probably is prudent nonetheless.

Prairie dog colonies, which are made up of several holes -- referred to as "coteries" by scientists, but known to the prairie dogs as "frats" -- can extend hundreds of miles, particularly in areas having a scarcity of fast food restaurants. This is because the coteries, although highly developed and consisting of several different rooms, do not contain a kitchen. For eons they did contain a kitchen, but sometime in the last century the prairie dog community was swept by a wave of women's lib, and the women burned out all the kitchens, necessitating the access to fast food places.

However, and this is true, coteries DO have a toilet room and a nursery. From sketches I have seen of the burrows, the toilet room is conveniently located near the main entrance, which I call to the particular attention of planners of restrooms in department stores and other public places: You would do well to heed the wisdom of the prairie dogs, or someday a moose, or an irate customer, might very well you-know-what on your head.

Many coteries together make up a colony, and thousands of prairie dogs may live together in one colony. This sometimes leads to confusion about who is who, and whether another prairie dog one happens to meet lives in one's coterie in Texas, or is in fact from a neighboring coterie in Montana. But fortunately prairie dogs are very advanced, as we have already seen with their placement of bathrooms, and they have developed a sophisticated (and actual) method of identification: They kiss to find out if they live in the same place. This method came about after several other unfortunate attempts to discover this information, some of which involved a moose.

Adolescent prairie dogs, especially males, often take advantage of this ritual of kissing for identification purposes. "Oh, sorry," one may mumble after kissing a particularly cute girl prairie dog. "I thought maybe you were from my burrow." And all his friends snicker, although because prairie dogs do not, technically, snicker, it comes out more as a snort, which definitely does not impress the girls.

Additional evidence of prairie dogs' intelligence is that during the winter, they snuggle down into their burrows and rarely go outside, except to let the pizza delivery guy in. I think we would all do well to follow their example.

And now if you'll excuse me, I must go attempt to ascertain -- following the wise practice of the prairie dogs -- whether the man who has just walked into the room does, in fact, live in the same place I do.