Years ago I heard a joke about a “Wooly Bugger.”
Seems that there was a young couple and the wife came to her husband and said, “I want to get a pet, to keep me company.” The young man replied to his wife, “Well, we can’t afford a pet at this time. We just don’t have the money.”
She said, “But, I’m so lonely while you’re at work each day.” Knowing she was lonely, but that they didn’t have any extra money to spend, to buy a pet, any pet, or take care of a pet, any pet, he suggested that she visit the local Pet Shop and see if the owner could suggest a cheap pet. Free would be nice, but he really didn’t expect her to find any suitable pet that they could afford. He kissed her goodbye and headed off to work.
The young wife got ready and then went to town to do her daily shopping. On her way back home, she saw the Pet Shop and decided to stop in to see what kind of pets were available.
The shop owner first showed her a dog, a Great Dane. She asked how much food it would eat each day and then how much the very large dog would cost. The Great Dane had beautiful eyes, she thought, but she knew that she and her husband wouldn’t be able to feed the dog every day, and the cost of buying it was what her husband made in a week. She had to say no, and then she mentioned to the shop owner that she needed an inexpensive pet to keep her company.
The shop owner next brought out a beautiful long haired white cat with a fluffy tail, that was swishing the air as if it was swatting flies. “Oh, what a beautiful cat,” the young woman said. How much is she? When the shop owner quoted the price, which he thought was especially low for such a beautiful animal, the young woman’s face turned somber. “Oh my, still too high,” she moaned. Don’t you have anything that almost costs nothing, to buy, and to feed each day?
The shop owner thought another moment, and then the young woman saw what she thought was a light turning on in the shop owner’s face. His eyes brightened and he said, “I have just the thing, and it only costs 50 cents to buy and is very easy to feed.” Let me go back and get it.
In a short while the shop owner returned carrying a furry brown ball. There were no eyes, or mouth, a nose, or even anything “unmentionable” on the other end, because from what the woman could tell this animal didn’t have a beginning nor an end.
The shop owner proudly placed the furry brown ball on a nearby stool, stepped back and with his hands presented the potential pet to the young woman. The woman moved closer to the stool, even squinting as she tried to get a closer look at the animal. She then asked the shop owner, “What kind of animal is it?” The shop owner proudly stated, “Why mam, this is a Wooly Bugger, and it only costs 50 cents to buy it, and it will eat almost anything.” The young woman thought, “Only 50 cents, that’s a really good deal, especially if it will eat almost anything.”
But then the woman asked, “But, I can’t tell where it’s mouth is located, how do I feed it.” The shop owner then bent over and fished an empty drink can out of a nearby trash can. He placed the can on a table next to the stool and then said, “Wooly Bugger. Can.” And in the blink of an eye, the brown furry animal became almost all teeth, and they were extremely sharp and long glistening teeth, and it was spinning around like a small tornado, and then it jumped on the can, and in a matter of moments, the can was not only shredded to pieces, but you could hear the tin rustling as the Wooly Bugger finished the last bite. Viola, no more can.
The young woman was amazed, but she asked, “Does the Wooly Bugger eat only cans?” The shop owner, said, “Oh no mam, it will eat almost anything. All you have to do is tell the Wooly Bugger what you want it to eat.” The young woman asked, “May I give it a try?” “Sure,” replied the shop keeper.
The woman looked into the trash can and saw a small empty box. She took the box out and placed it on the table. And with the shop owner’s encouragement, she said, “Wooly Bugger, box!” And just like before the Wooly Bugger started to spin and there were all those glistening, shiny white teeth twirling as the Wooly Bugger pounced upon the box. It was gone is seconds also. You could hear the Wooly Bugger as it made it’s last gulp, and offered a burp as if it was extremely satisfied with this meal. This as there was a slight aura of saw dust swirling about the furry round ball.
The young woman said, “I’ll take it,” and then reaching into her purse pulled out two shiny quarters and handed them to the shop owner. She walked out the door carrying the Wooly Bugger in her purse, and with a satisfied smile on her face.
She got home, took the Wooly Bugger out of her purse and placed it on the dining room table and then went about putting up the other purchases she had made in town.
Not too much later, the young woman heard her husband’s car arrive and the car door slam. A few moments later she heard the front door open and close and she called to her husband. He walked in, looked over briefly at the furry brown ball sitting on the table, and then hugged his wife and planted a kiss on her cheek.
The young woman smiled, no she beamed, and proudly motioned toward the Wooly Bugger sitting on their dining room table. “I found the perfect pet at the Pet Store this afternoon, and it only cost 50 cents, and it will eat almost anything.” “What,” her husband replied quizzically? “This,” he said as he pointed to the brown furry ball? “You paid 50 cents for this?” The young wife said, “But it’s a Wooly Bugger, and it only cost 50 cents.”
Her husband frustrated said, “Wooly Bugger! My ass.”
And as we all know, it’s not smart to point a Wooly Bugger to a ready food source, even if we do it unintentionally. Maybe, especially if we do it unintentionally.
So, all that so that you might begin to understand the phrase, “Wooly Bugger my chicken!”
I bought a whole Rotisserie Chicken at Harris Teeter several days ago. Well enough days to have four meals over four days without having chicken two meals in a row, and also scavaging enough meat for a fifth meal of Avocado/Chipotle/Chicken Soup. And the coup de gras, I used the remaining chicken carcass and any skin, meat, gristle, bone and/or fat to make some homemade chicken stock. I added the frozen veggies I had been saving: onion tops & bottoms, carrot ends and skins, and the root end and tips of the celery I had purchased, added some seasoning S&P, garlic powder, thyme, and basil. In essence, once I was through with the Rotisserie Chicken from Harris Teeter, there was almost nothing left, and I didn’t even have to point my Wooly Bugger to the chicken.
By the way, as I googled for the name “Wooly Bugger” I first came across the name given to a specific fishing “fly,” the “Wooly Bugger.” I saw nothing about the joke I had heard long ago, and so I guess my retelling of the story here helps keep it alive, or not.
And today as I was going up to the Self Check-Out at the Walmart, I noticed the heat from a warming unit, and then saw several boxed rotisserie chickens. They looked & smelled delicious through the clear packaging, and I noted that the price for a whole chicken was under $7. I said, possibly out loud in a soft voice, “That’s a good deal.”
Bill Gibson, II 