Danny’s Dilemma

My dog Danny used to pen various episodic epistles. In other words, he had a blog. And I gotta tell ya, he wasn’t shy about letting his opinions be known. Below you’ll find one of his stories. But please take with a grain of salt anything he says about me. I’m a lot cooler than he makes me out to be.


To run or not to run, that is the question. Whether ’tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, or to take arms against a sea of troubles, and by opposing end them? … to paraphrase Billy Shakespeare.

Howdy, folks. It’s me, Danny the Dog. Today, I’m here to speak about outrageous fortune. And the outrageous fortune of which I speak is the insidious leash my human makes me wear. I mean … really … just because I’ve run away a few times, he thinks I can’t be trusted. I’m a big boy—I’m almost fourteen years old! I can go out catting (excuse the expression) around at night and still make my way home all by myself.

So here’s my problem. Andrew doesn’t use a regular leash like any sane person would. No, he’s gotta use a line from the boat … a twenty-foot-long line, or rope to you landlubbers out there. It’s downright demeaning.

The other night we went to a local biker bar. Andrew doesn’t like going there because he’s a sissy and he thinks the bikers will beat him up, but I bring him anyway. I love the place because the biker girls always crowd around me and pet me and tell me how cute I am. I know that, but it’s always nice to hear. Especially when it comes from women with multiple tattoos claiming they are the property of Big Bear or Grunge or whomever. It makes me feel special.

So there we are. Andrew is sitting by himself—naturally. And I’m the star of the show with the females of the pack—naturally. Now, because Andrew does not trust me, he has me tied to a post (it’s an outdoor bar). It was then that it happened. One of the girls felt sorry for me and unclasped the leash. Well, partners, I took off like a bat outta you-know-where, but I didn’t go far. I just wanted to teach Andrew a lesson.

I ran around to the back and hid under a small tool shed, and there I stayed and watched Andrew walk around calling my name. He passed within feet of me about a hundred times. After a while, I felt sorry for the guy and I let my presence be known by a single bark.

To cut my story short, I miscalculated. I thought if I made Andrew look for me and then showed up on my own, he would forego the leash. But it didn’t work out that way. Now I find myself indoors 24/7, unless I’m taking Andrew for a walk. And then, of course, I’m on the damn leash!

So, my friends, in conclusion, I’d like to paraphrase another great writer, the poet Robert Burns:

The best laid schemes o’ mice an’ dogs often go astray.

10 thoughts on “Danny’s Dilemma

  1. Andrew, Danny was a smarty paws. Or thought he was most of the time. But, the lease war was never won. I have two dogs that try very hard to get the best of me. Yeah, they are spoiled to some degree, but know their Alpha Mama’s rule about leashes. They are put on for daily walks. 🐶🐶 Danny will always be remembered. 🥺 Christine

    Liked by 1 person

  2. I had to laugh out loud with this one.
    Danny, I hate to break to you, but you do know you’re being played, right? It’s an old trick these bar excursions you thought you were taking him to. Yup! My son used to volunteer to take his toddler niece and nephew to the mall because he knew they were chick magnets, same things with dogs… so don’t be fooled. He takes you to the bar as a … yup… a draw! Didn’t know that did you?

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Good story. I don’t think anything ever got better from running away. Especially upon being released from a leash. Should have cooed it and sat at ole Andrew’s feet. He might have thought “Wow. I don’t need a leash for this good boy ” But like busting out of jail sure as shootin’ gets you time in the cooler. Better luck next time.

    Liked by 1 person

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