Billy the dog is a pretty smart dog. He’s done remarkable things ever since that day he showed up at Virgil’s farm on the Sawyer Brook Road.

Billy is an odd sort of a dog. You see he’s a mix breed but not in the classical sense. Billy has the body of a blue tick hound and the head of a golden retriever. His feet…..well, nobody’s really quite sure from whence cometh his feet. But make no mistake about it, Billy’s one hell of a smaht dog.

Here’s an example of Billy being smart. As a matter of fact it might just prove that he’s smarter than some people I know.

Billy almost never left the farm. When he did he usually wandered over to the Percival place and harassed a few ducks that hung out down back of the old barn. But one day, Billy got a bit rambunctious and wandered into downtown Andover.

Otis and Gabby were sitting on the milk crates outside Mills’ Market when Billy came around the corner.

“Hey!” exclaimed Otis. “Ain’t that Billy, Virgil’s dog?”

“Sure ‘nough looks like him,” replied Gabby. “What you suppose he’s doin in town?”

Both Otis and Gabby watch as Billy seemed intrigued by a sign that Roger Mills had put up in the front window of his store. Billy even got up on his hind legs to get a closer look.

The sign read: “Help Wanted. Must be able to type, good with a computer and speak two languages”.

Of course it was quite perplexing to try to understand why Roger would be looking for somebody like that for help. Probably one of them state mandated politics things.

Otis and Gabby watched in amazement as Billy went inside and proceeded immediately to the window and took the sign out of the window. He carried it to the register where Roger was working and placed it up on the counter. Billy barked one time and with his front paw he pointed to the sign.

Roger looked at Billy somewhat confused. You see, Roger’s a sensitive kind a guy and really didn’t want to hurt Billy’s feelings so he said to the dog, “I’m sorry. I can’t hire you. You can’t type.”

With that, Billy jumped down and ran behind the counter where Roger kept his typewriter and in no time at all he composed a professional looking business letter. Billy pulled it from the typewriter and gave it to Roger.

“That’s a find job there dog but I can’t hire you,” said Roger. “You have to be proficient with a computer.”

Before you could bat an eyelash, Billy moved over to the computer and in msdos, Billy created a video game of a dog catching a cat. He burned it to a CD, labeled it and took it over to Roger – in a case.

“Interesting!” said Roger. “But I can’t hire you. You don’t speak two languages.”

Billy raised up, placing his front paws right on Roger’s chest. He stared into is eyes and said, “Meow?”

It ain’t no secret that Mainahs like to hunt and fish. And well, Otis and Gabby ain’t really ones for fishing but you know that Otis knows about all there is to it and he lets you know when you’re around just how much he does know. About the only part of fishing Gabby cares for is when it comes to time to eat em. He gets these cravin’s for a wicked good feed a trout once in a while.

One day Otis and Gabby hitched a ride with the local game warden up to South Arm. Otis figured the fishin would be pretty good about now cuz the smelts, they were startin to run bout everywhere round. Otis wanted to go up to Richardson Lake and see if anyone’s catchin fish.

Don the warden was in a hurry so he dropped them two fellas off at the landin, head of the pond and was on his way. Probably somebody was game-hoggin more smelts than they needed the night before.

It has been a long time since Otis had been smeltin. That was back in his drinkin days and not unlike a lot of other smelt fishermen, usually the bottle remembered more about the night before than the fisherman did.

Otis and Gabby were in luck. When they arrived at the boat landin, young Barry Neville was all alone getting his boat ready for a day of fishin. Barry recognized Otis and Gabby and as much as he didn’t want to, he asked them two fellas to come along just to be polite and secretly hoping they would refuse the invitation. Said he was only gonna be gone a couple hours.

Otis and Gabby jumped at the opportunity to get in a boat, so they help Barry finish loading and they headed out fishing.

They didn’t have real good luck but Barry was able to catch a couple a keepahs and Gabby drooled all the way back to the boat launch thinking about what they must taste like.

When they finally got back, Barry said to old Otis, “Say Otis. You want to go again tomorrow fishin with me?”

Otis, he beamed all over at the chance and said he reckoned that would be good.

“Good, then,” Barry said. “I’ll meet you here at 5:00 a.m. tomorrow but look here. If I ain’t here right at 5 o’clock on the dot, I”ll only by 5 minutes late. I’m never later than 5 minutes.”

Next morning Barry showed at exactly 5 a.m. and the three went off for another couple of hours of fishing. When they returned to the boat landing, once again Barry asked Otis and Gabby if they wanted to go again next morning.

“Sure!” said Otis. “Can’t wait. How ’bout you Gabs?” Gabby just stared into the bucket that had three 16-inch brookies in it and said nothing.

“Great then!” replied Barry. “I’ll see you two here at exactly 5 a.m. If I’m not here at exactly 5 a.m., I’ll only be 5 minutes late. I’m never more than 5 minutes late.”

Next morning, all three met once again promptly at 5 a.m. and headed up on the lake fishing. But Otis observed something wicked peculiar. He noticed that yesterday Barry was casting with his right hand and this morning he was casting with his left. So, Otis asked Barry about that.

“Oh,” Barry said. “I can explain that. You see I’m ambidextrous. I can cast with either hand whenever I want to.”

“How do you decide which hand to cast with?” asked Gabby.

“I can explain that too,” exclaimed Barry. “You see, when I wake up in the morning, I look over at my wife. If she’s laying on her right side, that day I cast with my right hand and if she’s laying on her left side, I cast with my left. It brings me good luck.”

“Whoa!” said Otis. “That’s real interesting. But what do you do if you wake up and your wife’s laying on her back?”

“That’s when I’m 5 minutes late!” declared Barry.

You know, once in a while I come across a news headline in a newspaper or online that makes you laugh or have something SMAAHT to say. Well, I got both today. Here’s the headline at the Portland Press Herald online newspaper.

Man to serve 13 years for murder in Houlton motel

Now of course you got to ask yourself how bad can it be in Houlton, Maine? I’ve been to Houlton a couple a times in my life but I never stayed in any motel there. Or a hotel or a bed and breakfast, for that matter. Once I stayed at a campground in Presque Isle, or as I heard Al Roker on the Today Show call it, Preskee Isle, but never had the pleasure of staying overnight there.

All I can say is it must be real bad there or this one motel is real bad that someone has to spend 13 years in that motel because they killed somebody.

No one has ever been able to tell if Otis is real smart or really dumb but with Gabby, well, it’s pretty easy to know his oars don’t come all the way out of the water.

Take the day the two of these guys were sitting on the bandstand on the common in downtown Andover, Maine. Otis was doing his usual rambling and Gabby was just tolerating it, also a usual event. Otis began talking about how it all started.

“You know, Gabby!” exclaimed Otis. “Did you know that God first created man? That’s right. The Bible says he made Adam from the dirt in the ground.”

Gabby paused for a second and then kind of made a face while looking at his hands and arms.

“Dirt?” asked Gabby.

“Ayuh!” replied Otis. “He done a pretty good job don’t you think, Gab?”

Gabby just continued to stare at his hands and arms.

“You know what happened next, Gabby?” inquired Otis. “Next, God took one of Adam’s ribs. Ayuh, I think he kind a yanked it right out of his side and with that rib he made him a woman. That was Eve, you know, Gabby. Next thing you know, them two’s married.”

Gabby struggled hard with that one. He gazed empty headed looking and all, well, kinda natural if you know what I mean, at his hands and arms. Then he brought his hands around and felt his sides to see where his ribs where.

“You said God yanked one of Adam’s ribs out of him to make him a wife?” asked Gabby, wincing from the idea that it must have hurt. “Why on earth would he do that Otis? Didn’t he know that might hurt a bit?”

“Sure it hurt, Gabby.” said Otis. “But that’s what men are supposed to do. They’re supposed to be tough and strong. That’s why God left man in charge of everything. You know, kinda like me, Gabby.”

A few days went by and Otis and Gabby were walking back to the bandstand from Mills’ Market. While they were there, Gabby, who is more like a resident garbage disposal than a human being, ate a couple of Roger’s red hot sausages.

They both took a seat out of the hot sun and Otis began running at the mouth once again. This time, Gabby began to moan and groan. Finally, Otis looked at him and asked him what was the matter.

“Oh, geez, Otis!” moaned Gabby. “I hurt real bad.”

“Well, where does it hurt, Gab?” quizzed Otis.

“Oh, Otis. It hurts real bad. It’s my side. You don’t think I’m going to have a wife do ya?” asked Gabby.

You fill in the cut line.

Andover’s a small town and as some of you know, small towns don’t rightly have doctors much nor a drug store either. That’s why people who live in small towns like Andover are wicked independent. You notice I said wicked independent not wicked smart?

When there ain’t no doctor and there ain’t no pharmacy and you can’t seem to fix what’s ailing ya yourself, you do the next best thing – You go ask Otis for advice.

You see Virgil and Florena had gone down to Rumford to get something to eat at Teena’s Restaurant. The food was the usual – most closely resembling garbage, but the ice cream is good – and it gave Florena a bad case of hiccups. Poor Virgil, he had to listen to Florena hiccup all the way back to Andover. He even tried scaring her a few times by pretending he was going out of the road but all it got Virgil was a rap up side the head.

By the time Virgil and Florena reached Andover, Virgil had had about all he could take and Florena was commencing to get a belly ache. Virgil, being as quick on his feet as a dumb farmer can be, had an idea. He figured that when he got into town, he could find Otis and get a cure.

Once in Andover, Virgil drove by the bandstand but Otis wasn’t there. He passed by the barber shop and Otis was nowhere around there. When he got to Marston’s Garage and found it closed, he knew Otis had to be at Mills’ Market.

He pulled the car up in front of the store, looking around briefly to see if he could spot Otis. Figuring he must be inside, he headed in the front door but no Otis. Only Roger Mills, owner of the store.

Virgil approached Roger behind the counter and asks, “Do you know how to cure hiccups?”

Without batting an eyelash, Roger reached out and slapped Virgil across the face quite hard.

“What the hell did you do that for?” asked Virgil.

“To get rid of your hiccups,” cried Roger. “And see you don’t have them anymore either.”

“You right,” said Virgil. “But Florena’s in the car and she still has them. What do I do?”