And Bingo Was His Name-Oh!

When I was a kid, my mom and I would sometimes get up early on Saturdays and go through the paper looking for garage sales. My sisters and I loved garage sales so much that we would then want to play garage sale at home. We’d round up whatever we could find in our rooms (or each other’s rooms, or mom’s office, or the kitchen…), stick poorly made price tags on everything, and invite each other to come shop. Hardly anything was over a dollar, and trades were accepted. Sometimes you had to purchase your own things back from the seller who stole them originally, but since we all did it to each other, it came out even in the end.

Yesterday, Corey and I decided to stop at one garage sale we saw, and the next thing you know we were winding through the neighborhoods following all the neon signs to yard sales all over Golden. We did a drive-by at one sale, and saw amongst the mostly-junk, a MASSIVE stuffed dog. Corey immediately commented, “Oh man, if that were only a buck, I would totally get it to see what Jackson would do.” Sure enough, only a buck. So next thing you know we’re cruising the streets and running errands with what looks like an 85lb sheepdog’s head poking out of the pick-up’s back window. We bring it home and stick it in the hallway, and call Jackson. Jackson rounds the corner and skids to a stop, a look of doggie fear on his face. Much growling and retreat ensues. Soon Corey has convinced him it’s safe to attack, and, well, you can see how it went. Now they have a headless-dog bench seat in their kitchen. Corey named it Bingo.