Reading that article made me feel the same way I did a number of years back, when I met this fellow at a grocery store in Mt. Ida, Arkansas, who had a drawl so thick you could spread it on toast, and who was swearing, up and down, that he was a breeder of “talking dogs”.
“Sure, OK. Whatever you say. Good day to you too, sir.”
Cynic!
You find him a talkin dog, and get a hotel room and he'll prove it!
> who was swearing, up and down, that he was a breeder of “talking dogs” <
Which reminds me of a joke.
A guy is driving down a country road when he sees a sign that says “Talking Dog For Sale”. Curious, the man stops and walks up to the front porch. A dog is sitting there.
“Hello,” says the dog.
“Why, you really can talk!” The man exclaims.
“Yes,” says the dog. “I even spent time in the army. They would send me behind enemy lines. I would scout out the enemy, then report back on what I saw. And just last year I spied on some gangsters to help the FBI.”
The man then knocks on the door, and an old farmer answers. “I’ve got to ask you something,” the man says to the farmer. “Why are you selling this amazing dog?”
“Because I’m tired of all his damn lies,” the farmer replies. “He never was in the army or the FBI.”
“Say, uh... Are you still messin’ with Mrs . Crump at the feed store?”
Of course it is possible to have talking dogs! Just ask them a question.
Hey dog, what is that on the top of the house! “ROOF ROOF ROOF!”
What is that on the tree! “BARK BARK BARK!”
Then there was the talking mule.
Farmer; Hey mule you want some oats?
Mule raised it’s tail and spewed...”Afew”.
There’s an old joke about that. A guy advertises a talking dog for sale for $25.
A man sees the ad and rushes to the address, a trailer park, to find the owner, and asks to talk to the dog. The owner points a thumb out back. The man goes out to the back and sees a dog lying under a shade tree, and says, “So, I hear you are a talking dog.”
“That’s right,” says the dog, “Pull up a folding chair and let’s get to know each other.”
“How did you learn to talk?” asked the man.
“It just came natural,” said the dog. My first owner used newspapers to train me, and I taught myself to read. After awhile, I started having some chats with him. He was ex-military, and had some great stories!. But when I was about two years old he sold me to the CIA. They used me for a spy, because I could go into a drug den or a human trafficking operation and just hang around, you know, wag the tail and lie down, and they never suspected I was reporting everything they said back to my handler.”
“I am astounded!” said the man. “But what are you doing here in this trailer park, after such a career?”
“Well, you know, I got tired of it all after awhile. Found a nice bitch and settled down out in the woods, but she got run over by a car. I was pretty desolate, when this guy here came across me. I sat next to him when he was fishing and started a conversation, but he kept telling me to shut up, and it kind of became a running joke. Long story short, he just lets me read the papers and lie around, so it’s good, I guess, but I’m getting bored and would like to be useful again. I’m thinking FBI, or at least working for a private investigator.”
“Listen, buddy,” said the man. “I think I can help your career. Let me go talk to your owner and let’s get you out of here!”
“Fine with me. You seem like a stand-up guy,” replied the dog.
The man went back inside the trailer and said, “I’d like to buy the dog. He is amazing! Here’s the $25. But, may I ask, uh, why are you selling him for so little?”
“I’m glad to get rid of him,” said the owner. “Everything out of his mouth is a lie.”
I knew a guy who was from that time and place who was not unfamiliar with such stuff. Have you ever heard of a "whip snake"? It'll slither up and wrap itself around you and whip you and make you run yourself to death. How about a lizard called a "mountain boomer"? Oh, don't even ask, it's unspeakable what a mountain boomer will do to you.
How 'bout a "joint snake"? Its natural defense is to break itself into pieces so that a coyote or hawk or whatever will only eat one piece, and then it joins itself all back together and goes on its way.
I heard these things when I was a kid. Then, many years later I was thumbing thru a Foxfire book and there it was, the authors had included a chapter on lying. Not like bank fraud or whatever but the honored tradition of seeing who can make up the biggest bullshit lie to tell to some city dude, with a straight face. In half American English, half Scottish accent: "Oh yeah, I've seen joint snakes".
I don't know if there was ever a prize involved, other than a good laugh over a jug of 'shine at the expense of some dude who "wan't from aroun' here".