Darkdreamtheorist - Dahs’ Nightower

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Funny Goat walking with two legs

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This would be a nice concept for a funny animal story: a goat walks the farm on its back legs working like their master when they’re out of town on chores or sundries, but fail every chance due to their stubbornness and pride of being close to said farmer makes him ready to hold the load on his own when his barnyard animal friends want to help him as well. Maybe as a joke, but I don’t mind making up a tale of this.

I had this made by John Fountain on X/Twitter, designing an anthro version of Jeb, grouchy goat from Home on The Range, as a farmhand.

Some point in Joan’s life, her, Gene, and Matt, visit Patch of Heaven to see how were things w Farmer Jeb after Pearl Gesner bit it to her own patch on Heaven.

Even tho Calloway acted as leader for the farm, Farm wasn’t doing well, and with Jeb insisiting he work his friends ragged, they could use their help to get his senses in order. Joan & Gene growled at the ol’bill, her analyzing this abuse in the barnyard. “You may wear the overalls and red jimjams here, Jebediah Williams, but you can’t make a factory from of yer barnyard pals. You may be older than most of these folks, but that don’t make you wise,makes you a wiseass! If there’s something gnawing under your beard that’s makin’ you push them away, you can tell’em; they’re grieving Mrs. Gesner’s loss as much as you. You know that, right?”

In truth, he did miss Pearl much as they do, but didn’t want to feel soft, had to act tough and worked his hooves off to hide his pain when he raised his post as farmhand with Mrs. Calloway.

Jeb will ask for their help next time he’s playing farmhand, and let the new hire Emily assist when his back acts out, right after she gets the prickles off her paws. Jack and Buck tried giving her a home sickness remedy, finding things that reminded her of Santa Monica, CA (used to be a valley girl in her Arcean life). “I was pleased with the geyser as a hot tub in the desert, rolling my paws on cacti like they were massage rollers, big nuh-uh! Got most of those pins outta my hands, but my feet are another story. Owwuu!”. Wooper and Gene pull prickles off Emily’s feet with the chicks n pigs, but her howling got louder with every pull, til then Matt’s Smoochum’s Demon Kiss numbed her down til Quagsire’s Wake-Up Slap could get her up prickle free!

(See, Emily did come to Mrs. Calloway years ago when she and her drunkard Mightyena dad Mike stumbled into the old west via Hoopa’s portals.

They were victims of lycanthropy after he fiddled around with what he thought was a plain ol’ wolfette, but in fact was a shewolf. During on of those full moon seasons, she bit one of his shoulders and became a Mightyena dogman overnight, drowning his shame and sorrow in any brandy he snatched from homes to homes.

Calloway and Grace welcomed them to POH, but Mike’s drinking annoyed the cows, asking he learn to sober up til he could see his daughter once she’s been made “a proper shewolf”, having spent most their lives in the wild for decades even after their werewolfing. Months pass and Emily was like Calloway, proper and a bit modest, dressing in full gowns or blouses that cover her entire body and gloves, an old N’Gaian tradition to discern Narnians from Barbans from the early years.

While she did pick up Calloway’s “Colonial English” speech, her Cali accent does slip in at extreme emotional moments, like reuniting with her Tepig pal Tempa, fully grown to Emboar. She’s glad to cut loose and naked upon returning home to Arcea, but kept the modest clothes to remind her of Calloway and POH.)

So what’s wrong with this setup?

(Shrek 2, 2004 Dreamworks)

One fork’s a tiny garden rake, good maybe for salads or opening crabs

another fork has a spoon butt for soups

one knife’s clearly a pizza cutter

one knife is a meat cleaver

ps: I really don’t know proper tablewear etiquette, but the two prong fork wud work for escargot if I remember right

List down any stories with an Idiot Plot

Lady in Whiskers & Slippers (Updated 11-19-23)

(Sling Set, 19. October) Back in Cinci-Oh, I struggled to earn small wages doing odd jobs in my awkward teen years. At Human age 13, my limbs shot up like bamboo n my paws were whopee cusions, yet Im still kitten sized compared to Big Rhonda n Aunt Jane (Circene screwd my mom's genetics more than dad screwed her in the motel 6 pool that birthed me! srry TMI). Two of my best gigs boiled to babysitting and the Cactus Joan Revue at Cincinnati Zoo. Sure I liked pouncing thru loops made by my preternatural tail Slink n wranglin livestock by the petting zone in Aunt Jane's Cowgirl dress from her Paris,Texas Runway last spring when she toured w/Coco Banana, the sitting jobs fared better cuz I met some critters as odd as I am, like that pygmy hippo boss baby Benny and his growth formula down by Wall Street, or that shadeling Taz Devil Vincent from Brisbane, Australia. But my recent sitting gig had some skeletons I hadnt noticed til then, n it all came to my sitee Last July.

I took care of a literal cat lady and her litter of 35 for 3 wks in her rustic Rhode Island shack. Her name was Julie Phyllis. 30yrs ago, she was a former resi of Spooner Street with a handful of cats, plus a large tabby w/black stripes she calls Mistress Bengal acting as security for the few dogs that dare cross her sidewalk n lawn. Lately some rowdy kids spouted off tall tales of her becoming a cat herself or that Bengal would take her place if she wasn't fed well enough. Wutever the case, she had gradually gone from Crazy Ol Cat Lady to Crazy Ol Cat IRL 'round Halloween time. They hadnt figured what caused her transfur, say for some strange glowing plants by her yard. Her cats musta rubbed on the leaves which carried bits of Circene spores in'em, then she rubbed her face n hands on their fur, turning her to this light orange Tabby I saw my first week of Nana-sitting, or maybe Ms. Bengal had been Mobilized n took Phyllis' place. Like any bothersome pets in the suburbs, her neighbors had shooed them far out of town, living their next nine lives in that shack. Few things to know bout my time w/Ms. Phyllis 2/3 weeks in: 1-Her signature clothes were a periwinkle bathrobe,small round glasses, n peach slippers in stockings. But as a Barban spinster housecat who could shift from anthro to feral at random, she rips her pantyhose clawing n stretching her toes apart when going full cat. Otherwise she's naked in both her Mobile and Wild stance sans a grey-blue collar on her neck with a tag reading "Bagel" whn goin out,wearin it as if she was that same cat that passed not too long ago. And I no shame luv it! 2-Her cats see her as Queen of the Litterbox given her girth from eating too much Meow Mix n cream, but I see a deluded fat-ass pussy, which is no different than other cats, playin round the scratch post, lappin that saucer of cream n tuna. 3-Litterbox stank n dander everywhere was unbearable 4-A pantry stocked full'o'tuna cans, milk & cream yet she forgets to feed them while gourging on the rations herself, chowing so much Meow mix like Trail Mix n guzzling gallons upon gallons of milk!

All that said, she wasnt a bad client, forgetful n piggy yes, but not awful, n still tho...I cudnt help but shake that we were kindred in some way, dark stripes n glasses aside. Few times we went Out to walk, Julie hung with her Golden Girls by a small pet friendly café, sharing gossip from the pets on Spooner street n out of state, comparing pills n claw lengths, wooing would-be mates at the Petsmart n VFW home. She was almost like family to me, rekindling our bonds after we havnt seen one another for a long time.

Near the end of week 2, I saw some frames of Phyllis with her 'tiger cat' Ms. Bengal almost one n the same at this point, even wearin the confounded collar with the wrong name Bagel. Another frame of that cat corners my eye, with a Persian and Siamese by her side, but she wore an enchanting Viper Green collar. Funny how they look a bit like my aunt n uncle on my mom's side, Muffin & Finch. Dad told me they had another tabby as a friend by name of Bagel, looking way too same-ish as Julie on that big orange Snick couch there by the TV set with all the other cats huddled over for daytime soaps or Price is Right like my inlaws did at the adoption center– ⚡️👓⚡️😳 Oh my...I blocked that thought out as a cub some point, not giving 2¢ about it, but it factors into my lineage with Ma when she left our lives. I was too bashful to blurt out my discovery in front of her cats lest they attack their False Queen in shock. Tho given her short-term memory loss, she wudnt hav known herself much post-TF. Was she Ms. Bengal or Julie Phyllis? TBC