Your Pet Lives on… the Form of a Drone.

It’s best to wait until your pet has died before you decide you want to have it stuffed and turned into something as practical as a drone. Who wouldn’t want a Labrador Drone to use for cruising your neighborhood while all the while sending back exciting photos of your neighbors jabbering, gesticulating wildly and excitedly pointing directly at your camera lens which is conveniently, also mounted……up the dear dog’s derriere.

I recently mentioned on Facebook that Dutch inventors Bart Jansen and Arjen Beltman are incorporating stuffed bodies of dearly departed pets into mechanical parts of drones that will actually fly. Now pets and other animals that go through this transition receive a sense of freedom they never experienced in life.

I first read of 13 year old Pepeijn Bruins losing his pet rat Ratjetoe to cancer. He asked the enterprising inventors to stuff his rat and turn it into a radio-controlled drone and they eagerly agreed. Now young Pepeijn has a flying rat these two ingenious men turned into a precious and cute lean-mean-flying-machine.

They also built a shark drone. You get the idea of what these fellows can do when you hear they turned a dead shark into a drone. How would you like to be relaxing in your pool just sunning and floating around on an air mattress when you happen to look up and instead of swimming under you in the water at a beach, a big fierce looking shark is hovering over you grinning and leering at all your old wrinkled body parts. Now that is a perfect reason to blow a drone out of the air with a double barreled shotgun. When your friends see it on your living room wall and say, “Where did you get the shark?” you can honestly answer, “Oh, I shot that big mother about a hundred feet over the top of my house.”

They also built a drone out of a dead ostrich. I hope he was dead.Forget about the ostrich. They are big, bulky, mean-tempered and ugly and the one they built should have been made into a blimp.

Order From

I did not have any drone stories in this fine little book I threw together one weekend down in Margaritaville but it is still pretty interesting if you happen to be doing studies on pathological liars. Just click on the book cover and you will automatically be flown directly to where they will gladly sell you this book for chump change.

I believe their crowning achievement has been referred to as their “epic” taxidermied cat  “Orvillecopter.” I really like Orvillecopter. He looks like an action cat to me. I’ll bet if old Orvillecopter were still around he would be super proud of his ability to soar with the birds.

So this seems to be the direction drone makers are taking nowadays. Think about how much fun you can have flying your ex-pet around the neighborhood and spying on the folks you really want to annoy. I suggest you keep the size of your pet to a minimum. I recently asked the inventors if I could get a number one South Georgia feeder pig stuffed and all rigged out as a drone and they laughed and laughed. They thought I was kidding.


The Awful ‘Alice in Wonderland’ Syndrome

Did you remember? Alice fell through the rabbit hole. She was not as graceful as we are but what the heck we all can’t be as nimble as Fred Astaire. One of the things that happened to Alice after doing that nosedive was she began to see people and objects as much tinier than they actually were or they became greatly magnified. You might not remember this. I don’t remember it either but now the Lewis Carroll Second Guessers Club and a few shrinks too are beginning to believe that Carroll occasionally saw huge people and, at times, some little bitty people too.

That’s where the sordid and unworthy misnomer of the “Alice in Wonderland” Syndrome rears its ugly head. These learned folk think that Lewis Carroll had migraine headaches and they now believe migraine headaches and some people who suffer from them also suffer from a malady that causes them to have visions of things that appear much greater or much smaller in size than they really are.

So if you suffer from migraines and you should happen to see things larger than life, don’t get carried away. Just remember, you might have the ‘Alice in Wonderland’ syndrome. It can’t be all bad either. Just think of how much food you can pile on your plate because a little headache made you think you weren’t eating much at all. All you have to do is turn to your bride and say, “I think I feel a little headache coming on.” and she will perfectly understand why you just loaded up enough food on your dinner plate to feed a family of fifteen small Asian children.

This is a rare syndrome. People who suffer from it have temporary episodes of distorted perception of body size. During such a period, if you have the syndrome, you may feel your body is larger or smaller than normal and people or objects around you will appear larger or smaller than usual.

Don’t be alarmed. I think some of this can be used to greatOrder From advantage. I have already mentioned the amount of food we can consume without fear of criticism from our peers and relatives. If the headaches are not all that terribly bad, think how many people can assume they are small and thin because their appearance in the mirror seems to tell them it is so.

We can all walk around with the sure knowledge that we are tiny people. What a tremendous boost to our big fat egos.

This is much like a public service announcement made for the betterment of our society. There is no charge for this gibberish and I pray you feel the same way and you will not send me a bill for any time I may have cost you in your reading of this. However, if you do have some extra change in your pocket, you can purchase the small book pictured above from by merely clicking on the blue shawl.


The Tom Ross, A.A.A.D.D. Detection System

It’s finally catching up with us. We thought we could last forever but we were wrong. They say the first thing to go is your plumbing but just read these notes from our old friend Tom Ross. Tom is a retired barrister and now lives out near the North Carolina coast. The rankest of amateurs can follow these few simple symptoms that Tom describes and successfully self-diagnose the degree of memory loss suffered. Since he first wrote these notes Tom’s lovely wife Diane keeps him chained to a post on the front porch.

If he had this problem back when he led our fearless Albany (Georgia) High School football warriors to a state championship in 1959 we would have been in sad shape. Anyhow read Tom’s notes and you decide if you think there is any help for him……or for any of us poor souls who have now fallen headlong into our seventies.

Tom Ross Says : "A.A.A.D.D. - KNOW THE SYMPTOMS!"
(Age-Activated Attention Deficit Disorder)          

This is how it manifests:

I decide to water my garden. As I turn on the hose in the driveway, I look over at my car and decide it needs washing.

I go to the garage and I notice mail on the porch table that I brought from the box earlier. I decide to check the mail before I wash the car.

I lay my car keys on the table, put the junk mail in the garbage can under the table. I notice that the can is full. I decide to put the bills back on the table and take out the garbage first. But then I think since I'm going to be near the mailbox when I take out the garbage anyway, I may as well pay the bills first.

I take my check book off the table, and see that there is only one check left. My extra checks are in my desk in the study, so I go inside the house to my desk where I find the can of Pepsi I'd been drinking. I'm going to look for my checks, but first I need to push the Pepsi aside so that I don't accidentally knock it over. The Pepsi is getting warm, and I decide to put it in the refrigerator to keep it cold.

As I head toward the kitchen with the Pepsi, a vase of flowers on the counter catches my eye. They need water. I put the Pepsi on the counter and discover my reading glasses that I've been searching for all morning.  I decide I better put them back on my desk, but first I'm going to water the flowers.

  I set the glasses back down on the counter, fill a container with water and
suddenly spot the TV remote. Someone left it on the kitchen table. I realize that tonight when we go to watch TV, I'll be looking for the remote, but I won't remember that it's on the kitchen table, so I decide to put it back in the den where it belongs, but first I'll water the flowers.

I pour some water in the flowers, but quite a bit of it spills on the floor. I set the remote on the table, get some towels and wipe up the spill. Then, I go down the hall trying to remember what I was planning to do.

At the end of the day: The car isn't washed, the bills aren't paid,
there is a warm can of Pepsi sitting on the counter. The flowers don't have enough water, There is still only one check in my check book, I can't find the remote, I can't find my glasses, and I don't remember what I did with the car keys. Then, when I try to figure out why nothing got done today, I'm totally baffled because I know I was busy all day and I'm really tired.

I realize this is a serious problem, and I'll try to get some help for it, but first        ..........I'll check my e-mail....

At least Ross knows where to find his e-mail. Mine disappeared into the icloud while I was looking for my car keys.


Is It the Cat’s Pajamas……or the Cat’s Commode?

Unfortunately I do not have a picture of the prototype pet commode recently donated to the town of El Vendrell, Spain by inventor Enric Girona. The commode is a hole in the ground with a flush handle that is connected to the sewer system. There is also a drain grid next to the hole for tinkling purposes. It’s built on a twenty square foot platform that is self-cleaning. In Spain you can be fined up to $1,000 in Madrid and $2,000 in Barcelona for not cleaning up after your animals.

But we should have no problem in America because I have become acutely aware in the past two or three years that our pets know how to use a commode. I recently saw a film of a dog hopping up on a commode in his owner’s house and doing his business in the right spot. He even had the strength to push the flush handle when he was finished. He was a pretty good sized dog so I guess all that extra weight helped him complete the flush.

We can also teach our kitties the proper use of a commode if we will simply be patient and be willing to spend the time in the bathroom petting them and coaxing them to do the right thing. Then we have to figure out how to make the commode flush. I suggest an electric flushing apparatus that is triggered by the cat jumping to the floor and landing on a small pad that has a built in switch which signals the electronic flusher to flush the commode.

I told my friend Bubba Jack Johnson all about my idea for a cat commode that could actually be flushed by the cat. Bubba Jack is mechanically inclined and when you can get him to settle down and put his mind on the business at hand he can’t be beat at fabricating things like cat commodes.

I think I made a bad mistake in getting Bubba Jack so involved and excited about the idea. He lives with his Mama and that’s where I found him when I told him about plans for my new project.

I never dreamed he would use his Mama’s cat as a guinea pig. Kitty (his Mama doesn’t have a lot in the way of imagination when it comes to naming pets) weighs about twenty-five pounds and she has about ten or twelve more pounds of hair.

Bubba Jack got it all put together and he took Kitty and put her on the commode. The commode flusher chose to malfunction at that very moment and the water blew out the top of the commode and all over Kitty. Kitty screeched and leaped four or five feet in the air. When she came down on the pad with the flush switch built into it the commode flushed again and threw water all over the bathroom. Bubba Jack had failed to make the flush pad water-proof. That pad lit Kitty up like fireworks on the Fourth of July.

I had never seen a cat explode. Luckily she didn’t really blow up. Fire raced along her entire body. Bubba Jack grabbed her by the neck and slung her into the commode and put his big foot on her to hold her down until the fire went out. He saved her. I just thought he saved her. His mother did not think so.

The cat commode project has been temporarily suspended. Lately Bubba Jack lives out of his car and his Mama is living by herself in her house. Just her and a naked cat.

Order From

Go to and they will show you how to buy the book for mere pocket change. It’s amazing isn’t it? Amazon will sell anything.