Mrs. Boondoggle

  

This is my story. Mrs. Boondoggle.

Supermodel, Actress ,Jet-setter,

               Bon-Vivant

 

So this is the story. At the foundry, I noticed Mr. Boondoggle paying a lot of attention to the horses. It seemed that he had that blank but awake facial expression of someone under hypnosis. Sort of like a friend of mines' ma when their dog is hypnotizing the ma into giving him food. So I kept an eye on Mr. Boondoggle to see if Svengali, or even worse Rasputin had been re-incarnated in a horse body as this happens sometimes when a person has led a dastardly life and has therefore come back in a lower form , as punishment, and has to work his way back up the "being ladder" to redeem himself, like Ted Kennedy. So it came to pass that survailing Mr. Boondoggle brought certain facts to light. One:he was in some kind of trance, Two: he was under the influence of a powerful force,Three: I did not know what that force was. I had to consult a medium to ascertain just what kind of voodoo, or spell, or visitor from the other side was affecting him. This was my quest.

We had to gain passage to the port where the practitioners of the Santeria and Voodoo were in abundance but under cover of broad daylight. Their backs against the wall to shield them at least from one side from spells and evil sendings. Many a rosary was employed by those in our party so as to keep the Dark One at bay, since in the presence of holiness, there always its converse, He who would gather the Souls of those careless enough to not guard against being corrupted by the temptations applied by the Evil One, who tries to do this under trying circumstances.We were drawn by a glowing presence. Not a ghost or apparition, but a type of hard to see glow is a crude way to describe it. We travelled by flat boat and in the swamp came to the dwelling of a blind woman. She described murder and slavery days. The events which led to her blindness as she could not bear to look upon any mortal creature after seeing her family slaughtered. Slaughtered by those who then died by her will.

The swamp woman already knew why we were there. She had known we were coming. She said before we explained our plight "As we speak, your husband is under the influence of someone he knows, has known for some time, and has been friendly with." She continued,"You must return to San Francisco, and by means which you will create under the circumstances you find, remove the bad influence from your husbands' soul." At that moment, we left and boarded a ship which navigated through the Panama Canal, and went on to San Francisco. (Because that seemed to be appropriate at the time, even though it took about forty times longer than flying). We arrived in the fog and its pervasive dampness seemed to permeate our being. This was only a psychological phenomena. As soon as possible we high tailed it to the foundry where the pony boys were supposed to be keeping Mr. Boondoggle out of trouble. Unfortunately, the four of them were also in a trance.

Remembering the words of the swamp priestess, we searched the foundry for some talisman, or source of black magic which would be altering Mr.Boondoggles' mind and allowing him to have his awareness shrouded,as if by the fog we had arrived in. The horses seemed nervous. They looked at us as people look at each other. The horses had acquired the demeanor of the dominant force in the room. Even as we looked over the situation in the foundry, we felt as if we were coming under the influence of a reefer dipped in opium. Where our minds were becoming clouded by a means we could not identify. My friends went outside to puff cancer sticks, since they are not allowed in the workplace. When they came back in, it was obvious that the intoxicating power had been removed. The horses still looked like they wanted some oats or a light rub. It became clear that they were scrutinizing us. Mr.Boondoggle had been removed to outside the foundry to puff a cancer and seemed to have recovered from the stupor.

When Mr. Boondoggle realized who we were, he mumbled something like "You're a nag!" then fainted. Something was going on in the foundry. We had closed circuit TV in the foundry to watch the smelting process. We spread out the cameras so as to let us see all areas of the plant. Hiding in the control room out of sight we could observe everything going on. It was then we saw who was influencing Mr. Boondoggle and everyone within earshot. We had installed large screen TVs so that the chariot horses could watch them and not be bored. We could see that while they thought we were gone, they were watching a Mr. Ed episode. The horses seemed to be murmuring or chanting. We took a cell phone and left it by the horses and left again. By this time, we had an animal psychiatrist with a masters' degree in animal behavior. She watched the horses and listened. She was incredulous! She said "This is a first! I will have to base my doctoral work upon this!" She watched in wonder as did we

With the help of the animal head shrinker, who someone knew as she had worked with that dog, Momo, we came to understand that from constantly watching "Mr. Ed" episodes, these chariot horses had learned the "human-horse language". Their murmuring was just practicing their elocution. They had in fact become "Mr. Boondoggle Whisperers!" They had also been watching the movie "Svengali" where Trilby is hypnotized and falls under the influence of Svengali. There was a hidden motive for this. Whereas, the horse would previously only fool around and speak in "Horse-human language" to each other for fun, they had used their knowledge for a specific reason. These horses, although loved by everyone and especially Mr. Boondoggle, were not as beautiful as the Arabian horses. The chariot horses had overheard part of a conversation Mr. Boondoggle was having. The chariot horses thought he was going

Through counseling, which was made easier by virtue of the fact that the chariot horses could actually speak the "horse-human language" that they had used to cloud Mr. Boondoggles' mind, and when they understood that Mr. Boondoggle had no plan to replace them with beautiful Arabian horses, became happy and content again. In fact, now that the horse could speak "horse-human language" Mr. Boondoggle would take them to the racetrack and made quite a pile of spondulix because his chariot horses would converse with the race horses in horse language, then utilizing the "horse-human language" the chariot horses could tip Mr. Boondoggle off about the probable race winner. Although this cost him many a truckload of the horses favorite oats and other horse favors like special wiener rubs. These runs were a pastime Mr. Boondoggle liked to do so it was a win-win state of affairs.

                                            The End