Mushrooms

 by Dianne

She wanted to serve her guests mushroom-smothered steak, but she had no mushrooms and no time to buy them.
 
Her husband suggested, "Why don't you go pick some of the mushrooms that are growing wild down by the stream?
 
"No --- some wild mushrooms are poisonous."
 
"Well, I see squirrels eating them and they're OK."
 
So she picked a bunch and washed, sliced and sautéed them for her dinner. Then she went out on the back porch and gave Spot, their dog, a double handful.  Spot ate every bit.
 
All morning long, she watched the dog. The wild mushrooms hadn't affected him after a few hours, so she decided to use them.
 
The meal was a great success.
 
After everyone had finished, her daughter came in and whispered in her ear, "Mum, Spot is dead."
 
Trying to keep her head about her, she left the room as quickly as possible, called the doctor and told him what had happened.
 
The doctor said, "That's bad, but I think we can take care of it. I'll call for an ambulance and I'll be there as quickly as I can. We'll give everyone enemas and we'll pump out their stomachs and everything will be fine. Just keep them calm."
 
Before long they started to hear the sirens as the ambulance tore down the road. The  Paramedics and the doctor had their suitcases, syringes, and a stomach pump. One by one, they took each person into the bathroom, gave them an enema, and pumped out their stomach.
 
Well after midnight, after the last one was done the doctor came out and said, "Everything will be okay now," and with that he left.
 
The hosts and the guests were all weak and knackered and were sitting around in the living room when the daughter came in and said to her mum..... "I can't believe that guy!"
 
"What guy?"
 
"You know --- the bastard who ran over Spot ---- he didn't even slow down."

The Dog

 by Dianne

An older, tired-looking dog wandered into my yard; I could tell from his collar and well-fed belly that he had a home and was well taken care of.

 

He calmly came over to me, I gave him a few pats on his head; he then followed me into my house, slowly walked down the hall, curled up in the corner and fell asleep.

 

An hour later, he went to the door, and I let him out.

 

The next day he was back, greeted me in my yard, walked inside and resumed his spot in the hall and again slept for about an hour. This continued off and on for several weeks.

 

Curious, I pinned a note to his collar: ‘I would like to find out who the owner of this wonderful sweet dog is and ask if you are aware that almost every afternoon your dog comes to my house for a nap.’

 

The next day he arrived for his nap, with a different note pinned to his collar: ‘He lives in a home with 6 children, 2 under the age of 3. He’s trying to catch up on his sleep. Can I come with him tomorrow?’