Jon Dawson's Tax Deduction #1 models her Neuse News t-shirt while her father runs through a cornfield with a stick of butter. / Photo by The Wife

While the summer Sun punishes the Earth as if it's behind on the rent, I'm watching my dog chase an airplane.

Last Saturday our dog Lucille commenced a commotion on our back porch reminiscent of the bar fight scene from "Roadhouse". She vacated her cool spot under a piece of furniture with a burst of energy that while impressive did cause her to get tangled up with several wrought iron chairs during her exit. For a few seconds, it seemed the chairs might win.

Lucille is a great watchdog, but her barometer for danger needs calibration. Whether it's a stranger driving up to the house or a butterfly perched on a flower, Lucille tears after both of them as if they've been sent to harm our family.

In the case of last Saturday’s melee, Lucille was right to explode, because a snake had taken refuge under her bed down in the carport.

We're not talking about a cute little green snake, as this thing looked like it had ingested a few chickens on it's way to our house and was sporting a 5 o'clock shadow. It was about three feet long and as thick as the heavy end of a pool stick.

Aside from the occasional play date with a snake, Lucille truly lives the life of Riley. She has a nice bed under a shaded carport, food/water at her disposal 24 hrs a day, and a nearby canal that she uses as a personal swimming pool. At the age of seven, she has the agility of a puppy yet is built like a house brick.

Since we haven't tried to convert her into a human and allow her to be a dog, Lucille still loves to hunt for her own food - be it a rabbit, a bird or a pair of scissors.

One of the oddest things I've ever seen Lucille do is go into a cornfield, pull an ear of corn off of a stalk, shuck the ear of corn and eat it. If you think I'm making it up, here is video proof:

Speaking of corn, some family* of mine out here in Bucklesberry called up last week to ask if I wanted some corn. Now, this just isn't any corn. This is corn that could end the Israeli/Palestinian conflict in an afternoon. If you parachuted a few million ears of this corn (with butter) into the Middle East, you'd see countries savaged by centuries of conflict turn into a Pepsi commercial in a matter of days.

It's been scientifically proven that Bucklesberry corn is more addictive than any narcotic or aerosol cheese product on the market. I don't know if its the rich soil, the summer rain or the fact that my relatives fertilize it with jellybeans, but this corn is so good some people eat it cob and all. We are so spoiled by this corn that we don't eat any other corn for the rest of the year. Once you'd had caviar, it's tough to go back to Vienna (pronounced "vi-eee-nuh") sausage.

Since our window for fresh corn lasts only a week, we try to spread it out. That being said, I went back for seconds the other night, and about midway through that second ear, I had what some have referred to as an out of body experience.

The pleasure brought on by the superb corn released some sort of endorphin that cranked the bliss up to ten. I can't say I lost consciousness, as I could hear birds chirping and the distant whine of 18-wheeler tires from the highway. I could hear colors and smell sounds, much like Timothy Leary after drinking out of date milk. I've been a teetotaler my entire life, but I have to say this corn was some primo stuff, man.

The experience was nearly cut short by some dunderpate who modified the muffler on his $800 truck to sound like a squadron of fighter jets, but even that couldn't harsh my mellow. It seemed like only a minute or so had passed, but several hours later I was found at the edge of a cornfield with a stick of butter.

"It's the beatin'est thing I've ever seen," said Bucklesberry farmer Parrott Sutton, "I kept trying to tell him it was feed corn but he was intent on going in. The boy was in some sort of trance. He had bits of corn and butter all over his face, and he was intent on finding more. I could tell he was hard-headed, so I put a bib around his neck and turned him loose."

The authorities were called and I'm told I was taken without incident.

(*I'm not listing the names of the people who gave me the corn because I want to keep it all for myself.)

Jon Dawson's humor columns are published weekly by Neuse News.

Contact Jon at jon@neusenews.com and www.jondawson.com