Thursday, August 29, 2013

In Loving Memory of Tony

One year ago today.... ish.... our friend, Tony, passed away. In reality he was blown away. Bryan shot him. Dead.

Tony was prairie dog, and like most prairie dogs, Tony loved to dig holes in the West Family yard. Unfortunately this posed certain danger to the family's horses who could break their legs by accidentally stepping in the holes.

Knowing of our talent in hunting, horsemanship, trapping, and other manly skills, the Wests invited us to help eliminate the prairie dog plague. We knew they also wanted us to model for pictures to be published various cowboy/rancher magazines, but we always do business first. That's our policy.
To use this picture in a cowboy/rancher magazine, or for tips about modeling
 for cowboy/rancher magazines, leave a comment below.

We are used to hunting with bazookas and hand grenades but they only had .22s so we used those. When in Rome... 

We knew that we didn't need to kill all of the prairie dogs, we only needed to kill their leader. You guessed it, Tony. If this top dog of under dogs was eliminated, then his dawgs were sure to quit dogging us.

Bryan, our expert marksman took his aim, and pulled the trigger. Tony fell over and kicked his legs into the air. He yelled his final words, "Eiik! Eichuthuckeikeik!" We think that is prairie dog for, "Remember the Alamo!"

Seeing the defeated Tony lay lifeless in the dirt touched something in Bryan's manly hunter heart. He began to lament the killing of this creature. It was kind of like in West Side Story when the human Tony got killed and everyone was like, "Dang, that escalated really quickly. Man, what were we thinking?"

Here is our conversation soon thereafter:

Bryan: I immediately regret this decision.
Tanner: Well, it's too late now. Tony is dead.
Bryan: King Tony
Tanner: Pardon?
Bryan: King Tony. His name is King Tony.
Tanner: He wasn't a king.
Bryan: He was a king to me!
Tanner: He was just a prairie dog.
Bryan: But he died like a king!
Tanner: Actually he died like a prairie dog.
Bryan: At least he died doing what he loved.
Tanner: Yeah, being a pest.

To mourn the passing of this great prairie dog leader, we held a graveside service. At the end, each of us poured a handful of earth over Tony's grave, all of us except Bryan, who held the dirt in his hand, as if comprehending a life after death where he could be together with his beloved Tony forever.

We left a grave marker that said, "Here lies Tony, proud father, digger, and yard pest. He is survived by his 83 children, all of whom are likewise named Tony. He had a lush garden, a beautiful woman prairie dog, and... a collection of Russian nesting dolls. May he rest in peace."

Though Tony is gone, his memory lives on. And that rhymes so it must be true. Tony was a true friend, and we loved him right up until the moment that Bryan shot him. We will never forget his love, his life, or his legacy. Rest in peace Tony!

Seriously, any cowboy/rancher magazine talent scouts out there, feel free to contact us.



  1. I speak a number of varmint dialects,. and that translation is roughly: "For my name and memory, I leave it to men's charitable speeches, and to foreign nations, and the next ages."

  2. I could only imagine that prairie dog said "I'LL SEE YOU IN HE.... AVEN" right!?


  3. Bless his little heart! And Tony's too...

  4. You're FLIPPING HILARIOUS! I'm so glad I found this blog!