From the September 21st issue of Sports illustrated:

 

"An animal-rescue group will donate five bags of dog food to a Washington, D.C., shelter for every time Michael Vick is tackled when the Redskins play the Eagles next month".

 

SACK 'IM!  SACK!  SACK! SACK! SACK!

So, I pulled my "keychain" out of my red fanny pack, & began to separate my car keys from the carabineer that connects all the modular little sets of keys.  I didn't notice that my cat (Beare) was carefully watching.  Normally, I notice when she wakes me in the night to pontificate a skewed view of my reality.

 

"It's no wonder you are so heavy, you haul around a fanny pack with 20 lbs of keys."

 

"Don't gimme crap.  I'm going to the store to fetch a few things & all I need is the car key."

 

"Looks like more than one 'key' to me."

 

"It has a push-button key to open the trunk & two conventional keys that I can lock the house with and another to start the car."

 

"If you wanted to take the scooter, which modular 'key chain' would you use to pollute the environment?"

 

"The one with the scooter logo.  Duh."

 

"What if you chose to ride the bicycle?"

 

"Well, this one."  I held it out for her scrutiny. 

 

"Looks like a lot of keys to 'start' a bicycle", she commented sarcastically.

 

"If you aren't going to make a point here soon, I'm off to the store, and one of the major things on the list is wet cat food.  If you give me any more crap you'll be choking on dry food for the next month".

 

"I'll go on a hunger strike to protest inhumane animal treatment and squalid living conditions."

 

"I'm just trying to speed this conversation up so I can get on with my Saturday", I pressed for the 'point' she wanted to make.

 

"I just think that you probably started out 35 years ago with a key to a motorcycle & a key to your Dad's apartment.  Nada mas.  It's gotten to the point where you can't really tell me what keys open which locks.  Those are not your possessions; they are those things that possess you.  Those keys go to the shackles that have bound you to your material possessions.  Do you think Saint Francis ever had that many keys?"

 

"Hey, I'm going to the store, you ungrateful former-death-row-inmate.  I take it you'd like the dry food just fine."

 

"Don't even go there.  I can make your life miserable during the middle of the night...and don't come home with the Savory Salmon Feast that is little more than pate gone bad.  I want the Chicken & Giblets or the Liver & Chicken Feast in Gravy.  Don't screw it up again."