Not long ago, I met a dog named Skywheel Jimmy. Before anyone who knows him, jumps up and says I met that s.o.b. in 1985...I'm really talking about a dog. A puppy, named after legendary climber, Jimmy Rutherford. The people who owned the puppy tried hard to get me to take it home with me. I've tried hide it but these people have discovered my weaknesses. I even accused them of naming the dog after Jimmy right before I walked up to the campfire there.
I suggested that the obvious choice for Jimmy's new owner was his namesake who happened to be sitting there, holding the leash. In fact, I thought Jimmy and Jimmy needed each other but the dog's owners had clear instructions that the puppies were not to be given to other people on the lot.
The idea being that if you just hand it off to another carny, the dog never really leaves. It's still a road dog with a ticket to Peoria.
(Note: This text was originally published on Cliffhanger, March 9, 2004)