Danny Goes for a Swim

Picture 196

It’s been a tough morning and I’d like to tell you, the gentle reader, of my travails. I’m Danny the Dog as I’m sure most of you know by now. And I’m also sure you know of my human, Andrew.

The morning started out as most of my mornings do. At about 5:00 a.m, I wagged my tail, hitting the wall, and then I started in with my patented low growl. The thump … thump … of my tail hitting the wall, coupled with the growl, always awakens Andrew.

It was time to take him for his walk.

He begrudgingly hauled his carcass out of the bunk (on boats, beds are called bunks). He went into the head (bathroom) and did whatever humans do when in that room. Then he opened the hatch (door) and I scampered out onto the deck. Of course, I had to wait for him, I always do. He’s kind of old and decrepit; it takes him awhile to ascend the stairs. Finally, we were on our way. If I had known what was in store for me, I would not have been so anxious to start off on this particular walk.

First off, I must tell you that I love messing with Andrew’s head. I mean I like him and all, he’s not too bad for a human, but I’ve got to keep him in his place. After all, I am the dog and he is only the human.

Now there are a few things that Andrew does not like me to do, but I do them anyway. At the top of his list is that he doesn’t want me biting humans. I say if God did not want us biting humans, He wouldn’t have given them to us to bite in the first place

The other two things on his list are no drinking out of mud puddles and eating food I find on the side of the road, particularly chicken bones. I did both of these things this morning just to let him know who was boss. And maybe I shouldn’t have.

Before we even got out of the marina, I stopped at two puddles and drank my full. Concerning the puddles, Andrew has learned a long time ago that I love rainwater and no way am I ever going to let him pull me away when I’m drinking that delightful muddy water.

The next part of the walk didn’t go as smoothly. You see, I have Andrew conned. He lets me sniff to my heart’s desire where other dogs have been. Maybe “lets me” isn’t the right way to say it. It took a lot of training on my part to get him to be patient while I did what dogs love to do. Anyway, as he was thinking I was on the scent of a dog or some other animal, I was really looking for a chicken bone I had discerned.

When I found said bone, I clapped my jaws on it before Andrew knew what was happening. But even a human as out of touch as Andrew couldn’t help but hear the crunch as I bit into that tasty bone. He tried to pry my mouth open to extract it, but he’s too old and feeble. No way was he going get that delicious bone from me. In the end, he gave up. Counting the mud puddle, that was two for the dog and zip for the human.

Now we come to the crux of the matter (I don’t know what crux means, but it looks good with the “x” at the end).

As I’ve told you before, we usually go to a park on our morning jaunts, but not this morning. There is a lake in the vicinity that Andrew likes to go to, but we mostly go in the late afternoon. Andrew likes to watch the sun go down over the lake. He calls it communing with nature, which is ridiculous. Humans don’t know how to commune with nature, only us dogs know how to do that. Hell, we are a part of nature! Anyway, back to the story.

It’s a nice lake if you like water, I don’t. I’ll drink the stuff, but that’s where I draw the line. On the few occasions that Andrew bathes me, it takes all my willpower not to bite him. Around the lake is also some nice green and soft grass. I love to roll on it. Andrew, being the indolent slob that he is, just lies on the grass without rolling on it at all! Unbelievable!

This morning Andrew did what he always does, he tied the long leash to a tree by the water’s edge, the tree on one end of the leash, me on the other. I didn’t mind, there were some good scents in the air, mostly duck. I love barking at ducks, don’t you?  So as Andrew lay recumbent on the grass, I set out to find me a duck to bark at. And it didn’t take long to scrounge up a scent; it led right into the water.

I must not have been paying attention (of course I wasn’t, I was sniffing!) because I found myself on some terra firma that wasn’t that firm. I plunged into the water right up to my neck. It only took me a minute to get back on solid ground, and when I did, I started to shake myself off. But I stopped because Andrew was laughing, he was laughing at me. So I held my instincts in check and went over to Andrew. Then, and only then, did I let loose with the best shake of my life. Now Andrew was almost as wet as me. That stopped his braying.

Andrew was pleased to inform me that falling into the lake was my bad karma for eating the chicken bone. He is always going on about karma and reincarnation. I don’t know about karma, But when it comes to reincarnation, who the hell would want to come back as a human? Not me . . . I might come back as Andrew. God forbid.


Danny and the Midnight Marauder


Howdy folks, it’s time for another one of my fur-raising adventures. For those of you who are new to these pages and my literary genius, I’m Danny, dog extraordinaire.

Unlike my last two communiqués, in this one I shine. I’m the hero.

It was a dark and stormy night. My human, Andrew, was fast asleep in our boat. I was on the dock patrolling the perimeter. When I’m on guard duty, I am always vigilant and on my toes.

They came out of the darkness. There were at least thirty of ‘em, and they were all armed to the teeth. But they didn’t scare me, no sir! I stood up to them, and for every blow I took, I bit three. And when the fur stopped flying, there were bodies strewn everywhere. And those not lying on the dock were in full retreat.

Okay . . . okay already! It’s Andrew, he’s been reading over my shoulder. He’s saying that I can’t tell lies when I’m writing these narratives. Well, he said barefaced lies. Whatever!

It’s his computer, so I reckon I’ll do as he says and tell you what really happened. But I’m still a hero.

It was around midnight, I was asleep and dreaming of hotdogs. (It was a good dream. In it, I was running through a field of hotdogs and eating every one of them.) Then I heard a noise and sat up. There was some guy walking right up to our boat just as fancy as you please. Well, I wasn’t going to take that, so I barked at him. He did a U-turn and made a hasty departure. And that was it.

You know . . . I wish Andrew would stick to his own writing and let me do mine. It read a lot better when I defeated thirty killers.

Danny and the Terror

Is she gone yet?
Is she gone yet?

I’m back! It is I, Danny the Dog, everyone’s favorite dog. I took a few days off from my writing chores so my human, Andrew, could use the computer. He had to work on some book he wrote. I told him I’d do it for him, but no; he said I don’t write in the same style as he does. Well duh! I’m so much better at writing than he is.

If I remember correctly, in my last story I told you how fearless I am. And I am fearless, however, I have a story to convey that I am not proud of. At first, I was not going to tell you about it, but Andrew says that if I’m going to write about myself, I have to tell of my foibles as well as my strengths. I didn’t know I had foibles, but if I do, perhaps I should see a vet and have them checked out.

Well, I’ve dilly dallied long enough, here’s my sad tale (no pun intended).

Andrew has this friend, a female friend. Yeah I know. I too was surprised that he had a friend, let alone a female friend. But during my long life, I’ve been witness to stranger things. So this friend, whose name is Suzanne, came to visit last week and she brought her dog with her. Now, I am peaceful dog, I come from a long line of peace loving dogs. In fact, my father was so peaceful, he only bit the mailman once a week. But as all of my canine readers will attest to, when a new dog comes onto your turf (or boat in my case), you have to assert your dominance. And in this instance, that was not going to be a problem.

The little critter was tiny. I wasn’t sure if it was a dog or a hairy rat. Andrew, knowing my ways, tied me to a tree so I couldn’t get to the little monster. But I wasn’t giving up. I barked my head off and strained against that insidious leash. And ultimately my efforts paid off, but now I wish they hadn’t. I was tied to a thin branch and it finally broke, freeing me to go and teach that interloper a lesson. I wasn’t going to hurt her, just let her know who was boss.


I ran full force right at the little thing, and instead of cowering or running away as any normal small dog would do, she turned and faced me, bared her teeth and started barking at me! I was so unprepared for this turn of events, that I screeched to a halt (and this is the hard part to tell), turned tail and ran. I ran right to the boat, jumped inside and hid under the bed. And do you want to know what the worst part was? As I ran, I could hear Andrew laughing his rear end off.  Or as you puppies would say, LHAO.

The conclusion to my sad story is that eventually I made friends with the little terror. Her name is Maui, and for a little female rat dog, she’s not a bad sort. But she does tend to boss me around a lot.

And as for Andrew, he will never let me forget it. Sometimes when he’s at the computer, he’ll break out laughing, turn to me and in a sickening, sugary voice say, “How’s my big brave doggie doing?  You better watch out, there are a few mean looking cats around.” I could just strangle him at times.

I have to be going, I have an appointment at the vet’s to get my foibles looked at. Until next time dog lovers.

Cold Water


If we pollute our air, if we poison our water how will we live? How will our children live? Kill our mother earth, how will we survive?

To some it does not matter. All that matters to these souls is that profit is made; that money is deposited into an account.

The road shines bright . . . can you see the light? It shows the path . . .  the path that Jesus, Buddha, Lao Tzu, Gandhi and Mohammad tried to lead us down.

Another old soul that tried to show us the way was Henry Thoreau. His message was “simplify.”

Why do we need so many physical accoutrements?  Why do mothers have to work and not take care of their young ones?  Is it to buy things not needed and when bought put in a storage facility after tiring of the thing bought?

We here in America have so many unneeded material possessions we have to pay a monthly fee to house them for us. There is a storage business on almost every corner in America.

This is only a short missive to throw cold water on your worldview. Live your life … enjoy the sunrise … look to what God had wrought. As long as you eat daily … as long as you are dry when it rains … as long as you love and are loved … what more is needed? All we need is love … to give and to receive … all else will follow.

As my friend Little White Dove would say, “Many blessings upon you.”