Have you heard about the dyslexic agnostic?

I come from a family of comedians. If you were ever lucky enough to be at a Belden Family gathering I guarantee you would laugh. You would laugh a lot. I am certain that I have recieved my fair share of the family gift, but my children, especially my daughters, would probably beg to differ. I have tortured them for many years by telling their friends the same lame jokes they've heard a million times. I believe it is a father's solemn duty to embarass his children whenever possible. Martha's sister (I'll call her #3) is particularly vocal in her disapproval of my sense of humor. One of my finest moments came a couple of years ago. One of #3's best friends, Savanna (who thinks I'm hilarious, by the way), was at our house. The three of us were walking out the front door and she made a comment about my intelligence. "You know," I said, draping my arm around her shoulders, "I'm so bright my mother calls me 'sun'." The look of utter disgust on #3's face as Savanna collapsed in fits of laughter will always be one of my fondest memories.

Now that I'm older I've learned to think before I speak, but alas it has not always been so. Early in my veterinary career a very serious-looking young couple brought in a sick Bassett Hound. Now Bassetts are amongst the funniest of dogs to begin with. Just looking at one, even a sick one, makes me smile. This particular hound had a liver ailment of some sort, and after my initial examination I told the owners that he would need to be hospitalized for some tests. I was in the middle of explaining my plan of action when the young woman suddenly blurted out, "You won't give him any blood." I was confused, as I hadn't even mentioned a transfusion. "I'm sorry, ma'am," I spluttered, "I don't understand." The man took over at that point. "We're Jehovah's Witnesses," he explained, "and we don't believe in blood transfusions." My first thought was that if the dog could talk he would probably say, "Screw that, doc, do whatever it takes!" My comedy gene suddenly kicked in. I couldn't stop myself. I took a long, hard look at that hilariously sad Bassett face and then looked up at his owners and said, "Why, he looks like a Baptist to me!" I thought it was one of the funniest things I've ever said. My timing was perfect. Unfortunately my sense of pride at my clever riposte was dashed by the look of abject horror on my clients' faces. For a second I thought they were going to snatch up the poor beast and storm out of the clinic. I spent the next ten minutes apologizing and assuring them that their dog did not need and would not recieve a blood transfusion. I recall that the dog recovered from his illness, but I never saw those folks again. I still think it was funny.

Someday I will tell you all about Hugh the Blacksmith and the Trids (That odd sound you hear is Martha's groan of dismay when she reads this). I also have a nice collection of bartender jokes, such as: A horse walked into a bar and the bartender said, "Why the long face?" By the way, the dyslexic agnostic lies awake at night wondering if there really is a Dog...