Cow pie becomes the latest, greatest treasure

THE PERFECT PIE - This perfectly made and preserved cow pie is going to get a lot of practical joke mileage under my ownership!

THE PERFECT PIE – This perfectly made and preserved cow pie is going to get a lot of practical joke mileage under my ownership!

This month started out right because I scored big at Antique Salvage in Union City after church on the first Sunday of the month. How big? Well nearly new catcher’s leg protection for my daughter, softball catcher supreme, for only $6 total, as well as a slightly more-used, but still sturdy face mask for only four more bucks. It was her favorite birthday gift.

While there, for $3, I also netted the tackiest retro women’s cape in fluorescent orange polyester history with silver woven in and large orange pom-poms at the end of its crocheted ties. I kid you not. It looks like something Jane Fonda wore in her post-war protesting days. To call it Godawful doesn’t even do it justice. Like an ugly baby, this baby is so bad it’s beautiful.

While at Antique Salvage, I also found the long-standing Holy Grail of a fold-down, jack stand luggage rack. Perfect to support a bus tub when I host large dinner gatherings. And then there was a gorgeous, although highly tarnished grape-patterned, silver-mirrored cake platter that experience said I could re-polish to perfection using a dab of Colgate and an excessive amount of elbow grease. They wanted less than half of what a new, plastic version would sell for today, and it matched my huge, grape-patterned silver serving bowl. What a deal!

But the real find of the day came as I excavated my way through the dollar bin of questionable treasures. Fifteen inches in diameter and about three-inches deep, in swirling dark brown intrigue, I immediately recognized this shellacked specimen for what it was: a perfect-looking plastic cow pie.

My pulse quickened as I approached it. Wow, I thought, those plastics manufacturers can really make some authentic-looking items! It looked genuine right down to the flecks of silage and other un-fully digested materials contained in its grooves. If I didn’t know better, I would swear it was the real thing. I carefully picked it up, looked around to make sure no one else was looking, then took a whiff of its partially felt-covered, unvarnished bottom.

Holy Crap! Based on my own extensive experience as a professional manure handler, I realized immediately, it didn’t just look like the real thing, it WAS the real thing! That immensely increased its value to me. Exhaling lung-clearingly, I quickly shoveled it up with the rest of my purchases, lest someone else claim this all natural trophy for their own malicious purposes.

As for me, from that first non-fragrant whiff, I already had my money’s worth. I was filled with the heady excitement I experience when I come up with a ridiculous practical joke I can hardly wait to play. Like during the winter when our front office assistant at work grabs her coat from the closet beside her desk and goes outside to get the mail. I occasionally run and hide in the closet to scare her when she comes back to re-hang her coat.

Visions of the mileage I will run up before I am done with that pie already has me laughing at future pranks. I’m going to take it to a Grange potluck and put it inside of a cake carrier and leave it on the dessert table. It will also get left on someone’s chair at the local library while they are up, looking for a book. And with my blessing, when it’s my kids’ turn to supply the object our pastor spontaneously preaches about during Children’s Time at church, my kids will snickeringly smuggle it up to the altar, into the big Children’s Time mystery box. It’ll be even funnier than the time they hid a roll of toilet paper inside!

Some people get excited over little things like finding a $5 bill in the washing machine or a $10 winning lottery ticket. But I am unabashedly, over-the-top delighted at possessing my very own portable cow pie!

My therapist will surely have something Freudian to say about my sophomoric humor and poop fetish. Well, after she gets over the heart attack of finding a cow-less cow pie plopped in the hallway outside of her office. I’ll cop to crazy, cuz my cow pie is plumb crazy fun!


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