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Revised 7 December, 2009

BLUE-EYED, BROWN-EYED ANNIE

I suspect by now that many readers may believe that I have been making all these stories up, but for fact, I could not make up anything as silly as these things if I tried. I simply haven't the imagination to achieve it. So what, you may well ask, is this all about? I truly do not know. It is just one of those things that happened on a smiling summer day that stuck in my memory and needed to find its way out.

Annie was a dog. A Siberian Husky to be exact. She had one brown eye, and one blue eye, lots of cuddly fur and was all wagging tails and puppydog grins. She belonged to the family across the street, but we didn't tell her that as no to offend her because she seemed to believe that we all belonged to her and not the other way around.

For the most part, Annie was a loyal friend, a brave companion and a guardian of the neighborhood. She had one teensie, weensie little fault, if you could force yourself to believe such a perfect dog could have faults at all. Annie did not like false teeth. She deemed them a threat to her family and to her existence--a sort of fang monster out to endanger the world. She would growl at them if someone took a pair out, would sit and stare hard at them, daring them to remain out where they were vulnerable and the possibility that those false teeth may have meant great harm must have lurked strongly in her feeble brain because when our neighbor's aunt took her's out at night, that dog would not let those teeth out of her sight.

Now aunt's grow old and forget to be watchful around such caring friends as Annie because Annie had never hurt a living soul, had never chewed up a favorite shoe, had never eaten the family toothpaste or any of the other dispicable things that other dogs do. On this one particular summer afternoon, Annie's opportunity finally arrived wherein she could deal once and for all with those intruding, protruding artificial gum chompers of the nether-world. The aunt was visiting once more and in preparing to go out for dinner with the family, laid the unsuspecting set of teeth on the bed and turned her back for only a second. Annie lept into action, grabbed the enemy teeth and ran like ever for the back yard with a toothless Auntie in full chase. Annie buried those teeth deep in the ground before Auntie could get out there and the family spent the last hours of daylight searching for where Annie had buried them, but to no avail. And so Auntie, absent teeth, drank creamed soup for dinner, Annie was banished, she knew not why, to the outside to consider the error of her ways, and to the best of my knowledge, those teeth have never been seen again (although they may be whispering a thing or two that only Annie could hear from wherever it is that old teeth go to grind in the night.)