affame_le_geant_traigo_el_jefe fyn gula puppertwinkle, over the course of his little dog life had carried many things in his mouth, various bones (gifts, or those he stumbled upon), mini frisbees that boffden threw him while he mowed the grass in the dogyard, sticks for firewood, birds(most recently), stones where needed, but a decapitated dandelion head still functioning? um. he would definately write home about this one. he carried it much like he did the baby macaw that fell from gryff's gilded cage just before st. sebastian, a manx cat with a tied-on tail, nearly snatched. he transported it like the treasure that it was. with his severed stem firm in puppertwinkle's tiny teeth, the dandelion's head hung upside down as they entered the cart. saumboo, oblivious to the recent proceedings concerning the dandelion's tragedy, sensed their arrival. when the dandelion called out a feeble greeting, saumboo immediately feared something terrible had happened. "le traigo el jefe del diente de leon," puppertwinkle said, first setting the head, with solicitude and respect upon saumboo's lap. "el ha tenido un accidente terrible." puppertwinkle licked the dandelion's face then and swallowed back the tears. this was a pitiful sight. dehydration was already setting in. "el debe estar alegre el no puede verlo." he said to himself. saumboo was fortunate he did not see this. puppertwinkle sat down at saumboo's feet waiting for any word, request, as to be of service. saumboo cradled the dandelion's head with all the tenderness of a father with his newborn child. "accidente?" saumboo said, reflecting. "no hay accidentes." he went on to explain to puppertwinkle that there were no accidents. that the tragedy the dandelion had been given and courageously endured was his and his alone. he must thank God for it. only through death in any of its multitude of forms can new life emerge. 020601 what's it to you? who go blather from