“For business reasons, I must preserve the outward signs of sanity.” –Mark Twain
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.
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.