George
“Armadillo by morning, up from Santa's sleigh. Lost my wife to a girlfriend, didn’t know that she was gay.” Oh, hi, I was just singing my favorite song about armadillos. That is NOT an armadillo in the picture, though. It is a possum. There are no songs about 'possums, though. I guess George Strait never saw a 'possum on his ranch. That would be strange. Anyway, the story today is about opossums (just 'possums in Texas)
'Possums fool their predators by playing dead. If you corner one, though, there isn’t a meaner critter on the face of the earth. Now, I will tell you about a human kennel dweller that was NOT just “playing possum.”
George, like the human kennel dweller that I told you about yesterday, was an organ donor. George was not sick, or so the kennel workers thought. However, he did not respond to verbal, tactile, or painful stimuli one morning. He was at triple zero, so the kennel workers called the coroner. The coroner declared him deceased. George, though, was an organ donor, like the human kennel dweller I told you about yesterday. So the human kennel workers took George to the human hospital. However, because of what had happened with the last human kennel dweller the workers took to the hospital to have his organs harvested, the hospital kept him in a hospital bed for three days, packing his body on ice to preserve his organs. His wrist was chained to a bedrail, and he had a human kennel worker with him at all times. How much sense does that make? The man was DEAD!
You humans really do live in a strange world. This is Cal.E. Kat, signing off.
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