Thursday, April 23, 2009

murder most foul

I have had this little stuffed red velvet lion, named Herbie, for as long as my memory serves. (All evidence to the contrary, my memory is sometimes longer than two days ago.) As far as Herbie goes, I think I got him as a gift from a little old Italian lady when I was around four years old. He has been accused of being worn out and ordinary and misshapen and even butt ugly, but he stuck with me through childhood moves to several states and another country; to all my college dorm rooms; and into marriage and all our various apartments and houses.

And today, Herbie came to the end of his long life, with his sawdust stuffing brain (that's how old he is! older than laws regulating the stuffing in children's toys!) spread all over my office floor. Don't look at the following photo if you have a weak stomach. It is quite disturbing.


This is the accomplice, who doubtless snuck up onto my chest of drawers, where Herbie lived in a place of honor, and brought him downstairs. From the look on her face, you can tell she is contemplating the fate of her next victim.


And here is the guilty party. Forget the "innocent until proven..." part. I found Herbie clutched in his jaws, as he unsuccessfully tried to hide his act under a cone of plastic.


I strongly suspect Dustry is trying to get back at me for the additional sentence he received today of five more days in the collar. He also peed all over the stairs and foyer floor. Apparently, it's war.


  1. ohh..may Herbie rest in peace : )

    I can get you some sawdust if you want to try to give it some life support....

  2. Thanks for the offer... Unfortunately the victim was beyond the help of any conventional measures. Due to the extent of his injuries (not fully visible in the picture), he was declared DOA.

  3. Oh the humanity!!
    Boy they know how to get you back.

  4. I'd forgotten Herbie? How could I? But, my, does he bring back memories! As an aside--and the subject of perhaps another pithy blog--why do we carry around these sometimes strange items for years? (Confession: I have a blue (yes, blue) rabbit foot that my dear grandfather gave me many, many, many years ago. Hint: He died when I was 18).

  5. The photo of the “Coned One” did not open on this blog; perhaps he has been rescued and placed in a witness protection program.

    Occasional Domestic and Livestock Overseer

  6. No rescue, though flickr may be holding his picture hostage, or perhaps has taken it for some "10 most wanted list." But I can assure you that he is in solitary confinement in my kitchen.

  7. Poor Herbie! It's never good when the cat and dog actually band together against you!