One morning,  Snoopy stood in the window watching the big trucks traveling down the highway that went passed our house.   “I could do that couldn’t I Slam?”  he asked, putting down a cup of sludge; although smaller Annie still made a morning pot of sludge.

Snoopy was kind of a laid back quiet boy, kind of shy in a crowd.   He liked basketball, hunting, tools, anything manly.   He wore a hat and a flannel shirt when it was cold otherwise his nice orange pelt was enough for him.   I nodded at him.   “Yup,” I said, “I could really see you driving a truck.”  Even though he was a cat, he seemed the type who would drive the big rigs.

“Well it probably won’t happen,” he said.

“Brussel drives a truck, maybe he can take you for a ride,” I suggested.

“Brussel? That guy great aunt Jodi knows? The  Great Aunt Jodi who is Phil, Moo and Annie’s Mom, and Norbert and Annie Jr.’s Slamma Jr. and your daughter; Great Aunt Jodi Slamma Jr?” Snoopy asked.

“Yes, that  guy” I said.

Snoopy nodded.   “He’s okay.”

I could tell he was excited when I  told him that Brussel was coming by with his truck to take him for a ride. I had called Great Aunt Jodi, aka Slamma Jr aka Mom or Mooom as Annie spelled it.   She saw no reason why Brussel couldn’t come by and give Snoopy a ride.

It was still a couple days away and Snoopy could hardly contain his excitement.   I figured at some point Annie would try to horn in on it.   She always did, because everything was always about Annie.   She actually looked really bored when Snoopy talked about it, however there was that look in her eye, especially when she noticed how enraptured Annie Jr. looked when Snoopy talked about it.    Luckily this time I was one step ahead of Annie.

A few weeks prior Annie Jr had asked to go to Joe’s birthday party.   I worked with Joe’s mom Issy and Annie Jr. was friends with Joe’s cat Archie.   “Why’s his name Joe?” Annie had asked, she always answered a question with a question.

“Cause, it’s his favorite name,” Annie Jr. answered.

“What if his favorite name had been Ethan?” she laughed her crazy laugh, “What time do we eat cake,” Annie,  then  asked because food was still one of the most important things in her life.   In that way everyone knew that both she, Annie Jr and quite possibly Duh-Wayne would be attending Joe’s birthday party.

I was glad that Duh-Wayne was there.  Annie being quite smaller than she had been used to struggled with many things, like reaching the pedals on her car or truck or whatever it happened to be that she was driving.   So Duh-Wayne had to climb down on the floor and work them.

He got stuck every single time because Annie had to pull the seat up so close, and she had to use a crow bar to get him out.   Suggesting her moving her seat was not an option nor was having Duh-Wayne drive because Annie did not want to trouble him that much.

The birthday party was the same day I asked Brussel to come give Snoopy a ride.   The Annie’s and Duh-Wayne had left early in the day to go to the party.   They left so early in fact, I had not even seen them.   There was no sludge in the pot even, it might be a great day I thought as I made a fresh pot of coffee, the kind Annie claimed was weak because it wasn’t thick.

Snoopy was standing in front of the mirror in the kitchen, rubbing some kind of man gel into his fur and brushing his whiskers.   He had his flannel shirt on like his dad, a pair of jeans with suspenders like Uncle Rov, and a baseball cap that said ‘Convoy.”  He was whistling and occasionally singing, ‘roll on 18 wheeler roll on.’

“Do I look good Slam?” he asked.

“Yes, Snoopy you look very handsome.” I replied.

“Brussel is coming, we are going to have breakfast where the truckers do,” Snoopy said.   Then he paused.   “You wanna go?”

I smiled and petted his gel covered head.   “No Snoop this is your thing.”

“You can Slam.  Great Aunt Jodi is going and Phil is too.”

“What?” I asked.

“Yeah! Come on Slam, Aunt Jodi wants you too.”  He showed me a text that said, “Bring Slam.”   His eyes were shining like he was excited.

“Oh, okay, I guess, I could go,” I replied.   Hanging out with Phil was fun.

“She’s coming down the street,” Snoopy cried looking at his phone.   “Come on Slam.”

We grabbed our coats and went running out the door.   As soon as I got out the door, the smell hit me.   A sickening foul obnoxious odor the likes the world has never smelt invaded my nose.   I gagged and plugged my nose.   At the same moment a loud weird foghorn combination fart sound filled the air, one then another and then another.  Engines were roaring from the street.

Snoopy cocked his head towards the weird sound and sniffed the air, “They are here!”   He ran towards the street and I followed.   Then I saw it, a whole fleet of big rigs from Annie’s poop factory.   Each one had a trailer that looked like a turd and smelt like ten of them.

Brussel was driving the first truck, he had his had pulled up on his head in a weird way; Snoopy adjusted his hat.   Great Aunt Jodi, aka Slamma Jr, was next to him with Phil,

Behind them was another truck driving by Annie Jr., the next by Annie with Duh-Wayne working the pedals and Spam behind them and forty more trucks behind that driven by poop factory employees.

“What’s going on?” I screamed.

“What do you mean?” Great Aunt Jodi asked.   “Annie said this was YOUR idea.  A convoy for Snoopy to some kid’s birthday party.  And you were buying breakfast…cause we…”, then everyone began singing, ‘…got a great big convoy rocking through the night we got a great big convoy ain’t she a beautiful sight,” then Annie honked and poop flew into the air along with a foghorn fart sound.

Then they all started tooting.   Poop was flying all over out of the turd trucks.   I couldn’t do it.   I just couldn’t.   Since Annie already had her own copy of my debit card, and would use it to feed everyone generously at some local diner as promised, I turned and went back inside as wet poop hit the back of my new jacket and a piece of old corn landed in my hair.

“Breaker breaker,” screamed Annie.   “Got your ears on Stinking Slam?   Come back?  Ten-four? Twenty-eight? Six ninety nine?” She was still screaming numbers as I shut the door.   I was sure I would hear all about the convoy later on as a matter of fact, my phone had already started going off with a steady stream of pictures Annie kept tagging me in, but this was one adventure, I sat out.

 

 

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