Grackle Nation (3)

   
   "Grackle Nation (3)"
   
   Slim Jim Grackle was in time with his relative time; specifically, the grackles had landed, and he pondered a pickle, weirdly reflecting upon Woodstock, not the depraved yet somewhat correct institution of peace, but the friend of a bird dog--Snoopy.
    Slim Jim's double-wide was getting a bit lonely, minus all the luminous light he had dancing around, but he needed a corporeal form of friendship, and what is more loyal and loving than a perky pooch; moreover, the shedding sublimity of a gregariously goofy Golden Retriever mixed with the curly cute of a paramount poodle, which would birth the super-synergy of a Goldendoodle; thus, with serendipity at his side, being service from his fabulous faith, Mr. Grackle smoothly stumbled upon just that breed at the pound, finding a female Goldendoodle dubbed Echo.
   So, after paying a small fee with with his grass-mowing money, Slim Jim Grackle strutted out of the pound with the elegant Echo at his united side, her walking joyously on a lime-green leash, almost dancing as she instinctively knew her new master to be a good old boy, much like Jimmy Carter, but not having that man's peanut-farming experience; still, Echo was in the highest of cotton candy, putting her head out of Slim's truck window, enjoying the rolled-down spring breeze, a tongue flapping as it was kissed by nature's cruise down the back roads--Slim being a bit like Andy Capp, always blindly taking the back roads, seeing not the technology of the day, but an eternal spirit in the nature within and without, all around, encompassing him, as he had invited many angels to drive beside his disco dance through a wonderful life of rebellion against the rebellion, adoring the way, truth, and LIGHT of loving the effulgent lantern known as luminosity.