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Well, we'll tell you the bare bones, brief account of the tragedy.
Our deepest apologies.
A man's best friend, his faithful dog, Goldie died. It died peacefully after many years'
companionship & loyalty. George was, of course, distraught. He couldn't sleep - he
wandered aimlessly around the town. He kept glancing in pet store windows, more in
the fantasy he'd see his dead pet than really looking at the puppies. One day he
haphazardly drifted into an exotic pet store. Just out of curiosity, you know, not really
shopping or anything.
There George saw the strangest animal he'd ever seen. A cute and furry pup, but looking
more like something out of Dr. Seuss then what you might expect to find in a proper pet store.
He asked the owner what on earth it could be.
"Well, it's a Rarry," said the owner. I'm not surprised you've never seen one before.
They're very unusual - so rare, in fact, that that's what they're called - "Rarries."
But they make good pets."
George and the Rarry seemed immediately drawn to each other and for the first
time in months George lit up a bit. "Good pets, you say? What are you asking for it?"
"Well, they're quite rare, as I said, but not very expensive. How's $50 sound?"
"That sounds pretty good. There's nothing wrong with it is there?
They're not dangerous or anything, are they?"
"No," said the owner. "Nothing like that, but they do get pretty big when they're
full grown and, of course, they talk."
"They talk?"
"Yes, quite well actually."
Well, George didn't mind big. His old, faithful dog had been a Golden Retriever,
and they're pretty big. And the talking didn't bother him. As a child he'd had a
parakeet. So he took the Rarry home.
In time the Rarry did grow pretty big and the Rarry did begin to talk. A lot.
And then it got bigger. And it talked more. And then it got even bigger and
talked pretty much non-stop. It began to be hard for George to carry enough
food home in his car to feed the Rarry even for one day; he couldn't move around
his small house; and, with all the noise, he couldn't sleep. It was getting extreme.
The pet store owner just gave one of "those looks" at George's suggestion that he
take back a full-grown Rarry. George's friends just laughed and said they really didn't
need any more pets. The animal shelter explained that they just didn't have any cages
over 15 feet high but if he'd care to make a substantial donation...
Finally, in resigned desperation, George knew he'd have to dispose of his pet. He
walked it to the edge of the town (there was no way it would fit in the car), tied it to a
tree and went home. But when George got home there was the Rarry, sitting around
the house, waiting for him.
At his wits end, George went down to the Rent-All and rented a huge dump truck.
He loaded up the Rarry and drove off to the mountains. Finding a massive, sheer cliff -
700 feet or more - he backed up to the very edge. Slowly, sadly, he walked around to the
tipping mechanism and started to raise up the dump bed.
Startled, the Rarry looked George right in the eye - looked straight down over the cliff - back
at George - back down over the precipice - back at George...
"Gee," it said, "It's a long way to tip a Rarry."
-----
The new town of New Tipperary was inaugurated on 4/12/1890 (and soon abandoned.)
It's intent was to house the Tipperary tenant farmers that boycotted & were evicted from
Tipperary town under the (non-Parnellian) "Plan of Campaign."
It's a long way to Tipperary,
It's a long way to go;
It's a long way to Tipperary,
To the sweetest girl I know!
Good-bye, Piccadilly!
Farewell, Leicester Square!
It's a long, long way to Tipperary,
But my heart's right there!"
See DigTrad filename[ TIPRARY
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