Saturday, March 12, 2011

Saturdays with Sir Poops-A-Lot: No-No Left

Woe is me! Woe is me!

Yesterday was the worst day of my life. I watched No-No pack her things in garbage bags and boxes. No more socks. No more all-you-can-eat-buffet twenty-four-seven.The room is empty. Totally void of her existence.

The Sausage came to pick her up. She chose him over me. I begged her to stay. I followed her up and down the stairs. “Please don’t go, please.” I begged.But she ignored me and petted my head.

I told the Sausage, “She was my No-No, not his. She’s been mine for the last ten years. He doesn’t know her like I do. She’s my buddy!” I remember planting myself firmly between them before they walked out the door for the last time. They actually walked over me like I wasn’t there. My heart is broken….sniffle…sob…sniffle.

I can’t understand why she left with someone named Sausage. He doesn’t smell like one or, look like one. 

Plus, mummsy says, the Sausage is the reason why No-No’s ribs popped out of place to begin with. “They were probably in a strange sex position,” she said. “He was probably twisting her like a pretzel and won’t admit it.”

I don’t like him already. Twisting my No-No like one of my favorite snacks. How could he? She’s been in so much pain. Mummsy says she’s milking it though. Calls her a hypochondriac. Whatever that is.

Anyway,hair ball’s confused.He whimpered all night for No-No. He doesn’t like sleeping in his own bed alone. He’s afraid the boogies will come and get him. He acts all tough around the big dogs in the neighborhood but he’s really a sissy.

Daddy-o is distraught. He yelled through the house last night. Paced back and forth a lot. I paced with him.He even sprayed her room down with Febreeze. “It stinks in here,” he said. But I disagreed. It was the last remnant of her.He didn’t listen to me either. He went on a rant instead.

“She told me she wasn’t going to take the finals to her college courses. What’s wrong with that girl!? She gave up her job! She’s moving to New York without having a job to go to! The guy’s a looser! What’s wrong with her! Oy vey! Oy vey!”

He repeated himself over and over.

Mummsy rolled her eyes and said, “I get my office back.” She looked happy about it all. How could she?

You know, this morning I was going to write about my sock campaign and about my plans for my butt-huffing seminars but I’m too upset to think straight. My life will never be the same again. My No-No’s gone but daddy-o says she’ll be back.

Mummsy said, “If she does, she’ll have to find her own place. I’m not giving up my office again.”

Very truly yours,

Sir Poops-A-Lot


  1. This is brilliant, Shelly!

    The real reason I stopped by was to thank you for the thoughtful comment you left on my 'Author Vs Author' post. I do those kinds of posts specifically to hear what you all think, and it's the highlight of my day when I see someone take the time to comment in such a well thought out way.

    Hope to continue seeing you around the blog!


  2. @E.J. Thank you. Your blog is a help to all writers. It's encouraging really.

  3. SPAL-It's Newton here-The Feline!...That's horrible that No-No is gone! Sometimes our mom leaves for a long period of time (12 hours)...I don't care what anyone says, but that's a long time. But, she always comes back. I miss her when she's gone, but I always greet her when she comes back...I'm sure she'll be back. Then you will have all the stinky socks that you can handle.

    Great post.

  4. Oy-vey? Interesting comment for Sir-Poops-A-Lot, but adorable post!

  5. SPAL, you'll have to make do eating mummsy's socks.

  6. Love this post! When I got married and moved out, I felt like I betrayed the dog. He was pretty mad at me!


  7. I don't even want to ask what a guy named Sausage looks like....

  8. @Newton: Mummsy said she doesn't want her back. She wants to keep her office for herself.

    @Debra: Thank you.

    @Wills: I'll have to sneak them out of her shoes and hide them, you know.

    @Nikki: Did your mummsy and daddy-o let you come back?

    @Norma: He looks nothng like the ones you eat.

  9. @ Eve: Daddy-o says Oy-vey all the time. Especially, when he's mad.

  10. Yeah, I have to say, this post is brilliant. Your title seriously captivated me and then I just had to keep reading and reading. I love your writing.

    Russo @


Let me know what you think.