Hi, there! My name is Tipper Allen, and guess what? I have a whole couch, all to myself! It has a quilted cover on it, so I don’t get cushion thread on my white coat, and a pillow I can hide behind to watch the birds and squirrels. If I sit at the window, not as many of them land, and they don’t stay very long. So I sneak and peek!
The sun comes in onto that couch, too, and that’s nice.
But I’m not selfish. I let anybody sit with me who wants to.
And, the other day, my poppa decided to take a nap on it! He usually takes a nap on another couch that’s too skinny. There isn’t room for me, Poppa, and those weird long hind legs that people hobble around on. Poppa even put one of the legs away, so there would be more room for me.
What a great nap!
My Aunt Sweetie Pie says it’s been too long since I posted a picture of her, so here’s one:
Oh, and Momma wants me to tell you that she found her ring. She said, “It was in a box of scarves I had looked through before, but I looked more carefully and there it was.” Maybe I can get her to find my middle-sized mouse. I’ve looked everywhere! Momma says, “You haven’t looked everywhere, because you still haven’t looked where it is.” Ha ha.
A WRITING PROMPT FOR ANIMALS: Do you ever lose one of your toys? Does it bother you?
In honor of me favorite Irish restaurant, The Irish Rover, and because it’s St. Paddy’s Day, what can I do but present Paddy Noonan singing — wait for it — The Irish Rover!
And the lyrics, not quite the same as those sung, but near ‘nough:
THE IRISH ROVER
On the Fourth of July, 1806
We set sail from the sweet cove of Cork
We were sailing away with a cargo of bricks
For the Grand City Hall in New York
‘Twas a wonderful craft
She was rigged fore and aft
And oh, how the wild wind drove her
She stood several blasts
She had twenty seven masts
And they called her The Irish Rover
We had one million bags of the best Sligo rags
We had two million barrels of stone
We had three million sides of old blind horses hides
We had four million barrels of bones
We had five million hogs
And six million dogs
Seven million barrels of porter
We had eight million bails of old nanny-goats’ tails
In the hold of the Irish Rover
There was awl Mickey Coote
Who played hard on his flute
When the ladies lined up for a set
He was tootin’ with skill
For each sparkling quadrille
Though the dancers were fluther’d and bet
With his smart witty talk
He was cock of the walk
And he rolled the dames under and over
They all knew at a glance
When he took up his stance
That he sailed in The Irish Rover
There was Barney McGee
From the banks of the Lee
There was Hogan from County Tyrone
There was Johnny McGurk
Who was scared stiff of work
And a man from Westmeath called Malone
There was Slugger O’Toole
Who was drunk as a rule
And Fighting Bill Treacy from Dover
And your man, Mick MacCann
From the banks of the Bann
Was the skipper of the Irish Rover
We had sailed seven years
When the measles broke out
And the ship lost its way in the fog
And that whale of a crew
Was reduced down to two
Just myself and the Captain’s old dog
Then the ship struck a rock
Oh Lord! what a shock
The bulkhead was turned right over
Turned nine times around
And the poor old dog was drowned
I’m the last of The Irish Rover
And I’ll end with me favorite Irish blessing: May you be in heaven half an hour before the devil knows yer dead.
A WRITING PROMPT FOR YOU: Write about whiskey or beer. Or both. Or, you know, potatoes.