FREEDOM! At long last, I was free for a short while today. I’m Danny the Dog and I write about my adventures in these pages. For the neophytes in the crowd, I’ll explain that I live on a boat with my human (whose name is Andrew) in Fort Lauderdale, Florida. To set this story up correctly, I’ll have to go over some previously disclosed material.
Every morning I take Andrew for a walk, and when we return, he ties my leash to the dock. There is a bowl of water and the leash is twenty feet long, so I have no problem with that because I like sitting outside in the cool of the morning. To thank me for talking him for his walk, he gives me a hotdog every morning (yummy, my favorite!). And then he lets me sit outside until the sun comes fully up. And as an extra bonus, I get to bark at Duke and Little Guy, two dogs that live across the water on the other side of the marina. Can you believe this? Every morning they have the effrontery to come out of their boat and take their humans for a walk. In my marina!
Now on to the great escape.
Our routine is this: I’ll sit on the dock until I’m good and ready to go in. Then I’ll give my one bark command and Andrew will come out and unclip me from the leash. I then proceed to the back of the boat and go down the gangplank. It works for us, but this morning I had another idea. You see, on the way back to the boat, I had detected an enticing scent. It was some sort of human food. But Andrew would not let me get near it. And the day I can’t outsmart Andrew is the day I’ll turn in my membership card to the canine race.
What I did differently this morning was to smile at him when he unclipped me and then I lay down on the dock. I put my chin on my front paws; I looked so cute. It gets him every time. I looked like I wasn’t going anywhere. So Andrew told me he’d give me five more minutes, and then I had to come inside. His big mistake was in not re-attaching me to the leash. As soon as the door closed, I was outta there.
I headed right for the scent I had discovered earlier. What I found was scrumptious. I don’t know what it was, but it was delicious. Then I thought to myself, as long as I’m out and about, I might as well do a little exploring. First, I would go and visit my friend Beth. She always has a kind word for me, rubs my head, and best of all, she gives me a goodie. She must not have been on her boat because I did not see her. So next, I trotted a few boats up the dock to call on Lloyd. His treats aren’t as good as Beth’s, but he’s a good guy. He wasn’t home either. This was getting ridiculous! Where is a dog supposed to cadge a free treat? Then it hit me, Dave and Peggy’s. They live with Duke and Little Guy, so if I can let those two curs live in my marina; the least their humans can do is feed me. Maybe if I looked real cute and sad I could con them into giving me something special.
No dice, no one home. Then I heard it, the voice of doom. “DANNY! DANNY!” It was Andrew calling to me. I don’t know why he does that. I have never responded in any way, shape or form to his calling me in the entirety of our acquaintance.
I saw him before he saw me and ducked behind a car. I let him pass, still calling my name, and then I headed in the opposite direction. That was my mistake; I should have stayed hidden. Andrew turned and saw me and yelled very loud, “STAY!”
I don’t know what came over me, but for the first time in my life, I obeyed him. It must have been something in his voice. I think he was a little angry with me. And I was re-leashed up before I knew it.
Well, that’s the story of my career as an escapee. Andrew was a little ticked off with me, but after I sat through his lecture about running away, I still got half a hotdog when we got home. What a sucker he is.
At dinnertime we talked about Charlie. Charlie was somethin’ else. People always said that he was of no earthly good, but Charlie showed us all.
Daddy shook his head as he cut his meat and said, “You believe that about Charlie?” No one answered, sister started to cry.
I grew up with Charlie. He was the first boy that I ever kissed. Him, brother and I would go swimming down to the swimming hole in the summertime. I think sister was sweet on him, but she never said nothing about it cause momma always said Charlie was a bad sort.
Charlie’s people came from the wrong side of the tracks. He never wore store bought clothes and his hair was always a mite too long. But his smile would brighten anyone’s day.
Charlie died today.
He was down to the highway, walking along the side. As he passed the Gentry house, the baby came out of the yard and walked onto the highway just as the car came out nowhere. It was moving fast. Charlie only had time to jump in front of it and push the baby to safety.
Still sister cries.
Now . . . no one says that Charlie was of no earthly good.
I have a longing in my heart. I have a yearning in my soul, as I stand here in the early morning rain. I’d best be on my way, but the thought of you keeps me here.
I was leaving this town cause I could find no work. I am down to my last dollar. Then I saw you.
I have nothing; I am nothing, so I cannot approach you. Instead, I stand here in the early morning rain and look to where you live. I only want one more look at you and then I’ll go. One look at you through a window, in the early morning rain.
I have no place to go . . . I have no one that cares for me . . . but I have the vision of you in my heart. That will sustain me . . . if I can only see you one more time, in the early morning rain.
I’m a long way from home, in miles and in time. I’ve been alone forever. I thought I needed no one, but now after having seen you but once, I find myself in the early morning rain with an aching in my heart.
There you are. You passed by the window, it was only a glimpse I had of you. Now I’ll be on my way. I could have loved you so much, but that will not be.
This old world has me down . . . as I stand here in the early morning rain.
Three men come together in the town of Redemption Colorado. Each for his own purpose. Huck Finn is a famous lawman not afraid to use his gun to protect the weak. He has come to right a terrible wrong. After his wife’s death, Tom Sawyer does not want to live anymore; he has come to die. The third man, the Laramie Kid, a killer Huck and Tom befriended years earlier has come to kill a man. For these three men Death is a constant companion. For these three men it is their last chance for redemption.
I’m in a foul mood today, so this communiqué will be short. It’s been raining for three days and three nights, and one more day of this miserable weather and I’m going to have Andrew build us an ark. Well, maybe not, seeing as how we already live on a boat. “We” being myself, Danny the Dog and my human, Andrew.
The thing about rain I don’t like is that it’s wet. It soaks your fur; it keeps you inside when you could be out chasing cats or running down a tantalizing scent. And to top it off, it brings thunder with it. And I don’t like thunder! Another thing I don’t like about rain is that one has to go outside to do one’s “business.” Hey . . . I can hold it. I’ll wait until it’s dry outside, but Andrew insists that I go out at least twice a day, rain or shine.
When it’s raining, Andrew puts on some sort of yellow getup that keeps him dry, but does he have one of those things for me? Nope!
So for three days now he’s forced me, against my will, to go outside with him in the rain. If I knew how to use a phone, I’d report him to the Humane Society. But I show him. When we come back, I jump up on the bed and roll around until I’m dry. I don’t mind wet sheets, but for some reason Andrew does.
So here I sit at his computer. The big lummox is in the bedroom reading a book, and I know with a certainty that he’s going to come out here in the next few minutes and say, “Okay boy, let’s go for a walk.” And I’ll be thinking, “Okay human, how about I just bite you instead?”
Here he comes. I’ll let you know tomorrow if we went out in the rain or I bit him.
What a time I had yesterday! I went to the beach with my human.
Good morning, I’m Danny the Dog, teller of tales, bon vivant, all around good dog and lover of hotdogs. And oh yeah, my human’s name is Andrew. Now that you know the players, on to my story.
As I’ve previously written, I like to wake Andrew up early and take him for his walk before it gets too hot. And I like our walks because there’s a whole lotta good sniffing out there. But yesterday it was Andrew that roused me from a sound sleep. I was dreaming of hotdogs. I was about to bite into a big, fat juicy hotdog when he shook me awake. I almost bit him.
Anyway, he told me we were going to the beach to watch the sun come up. When we walk, I lead the way, but when we go to the beach, Andrew drives the car because I don’t have a driver’s license. Can you believe it? Florida doesn’t give dogs driver licenses! I emailed the governor about this injustice, but I haven’t heard back from him yet. I know that not having thumbs would be problematic, how would I grip the steering wheel. But I figure I’ll worry about that after I get my license.
Sunrises, and sunsets for that matter, don’t do much for me; they have no scent, you can’t smell them. So what’s the big deal? But I allow Andrew to take me to the beach because I have my own agenda. I love to bark at other dogs. The beach we go to is secluded, and dogs are not allowed (another email I must send to the governor). However, dogs take their humans there in the early morning and as long as everyone is gone shortly after the sun comes up, there’s no trouble. And it’s a good thing for the human cops because if there was trouble I’d bite them.
So we get to the beach and Andrew sets up his folding beach chair. He’s such a wuss; can’t he just sit on the sand like everyone else? Me, he ties to a palm tree. Then he waits for the sun to come up. What does he think, it’s not going to come up unless he's watching?
As I said, I have my own reasons for being there, so I start my nose a twitching. I can smell another dog from a mile away. If I were a super hero, I’d be known as SUPER SNOOT. I would sniff out my nefarious nemeses and bring them to justice. I think I’d look cool with a cape. I look good in blue, so it would be blue with a big red “D” emblazoned right in the middle of it. Danny the Dog, mild-mannered dog by day, SUPER SNOOT by night! I like the sound of that.
I digress, back to my story.
So Andrew’s getting excited because the sun is coming up (what a surprise!). And I’m sniffing for dogs when all of a sudden I detect something good, as in chicken-bone good. So I put my super snoot to the ground and start my search. Of course, being SUPER SNOOT I find the bones right away. They were only a few inches under the sand. But before I take one of those delightful bones into my mouth, I give Andrew a surreptitious glance to make sure he isn’t going to ruin my fun. I needn’t have worried, his attention was on a red ball coming up out of the ocean, turning the clouds a bright pink and orange; some clouds were still purple. So he was engaged. That’s when I bit into the first bone. CRUNCH! At the sound, Andrew turned and saw my find. I didn’t know the old guy could move that fast. He was out of his chair, and before I could do anything about it, he had my whole stash. At least I had half a bone in my mouth and he wasn’t going to get that.
The short of it is, I distracted Andrew from his precious sunrise. He took my bones, and I didn’t get to bark at a single dog. What a bust! On the ride home, I didn’t go over and lick his face as I usually do. I was mad at him and he was mad at me. But when we got home all was forgiven and he gave me a hotdog. That’s why I keep him around.
My next adventure will be published in SUPER SNOOT Comics. Look for it at your local comic book store.
It was an inauspicious beginning to a glorious ending.
His name was Jimmy Diaz; he hailed from America, but he had been kicking around Columbia for almost a decade. He had come to the country to hunt emeralds. He thought it would be a cinch to go out in the boonies, scratch at the earth and come up with a handful of emeralds. However, it did not work out that way. He shortly came to the realization that his dream was not going to materialize.
Now, after ten years of doing odd jobs, working as a laborer, doing anything he could to earn his daily bread, including stealing his daily bread, Jimmy was a bit dejected. He had a crop of prematurely gray hair, the few pesos in his pocket and no future. He didn’t mind the hair. And he certainly didn’t mind the pesos. It was the lack of a future that Jimmy was thinking of on the day it all began.
He was walking on the outskirts of a small town, a town that he could not find work in, when he saw the bank. Like the town it was small, but a bank is a bank. And as Willie Sutton once famously said, “That’s where the money is.”
Jimmy stopped walking and sat down in the shade of a large tree. He had to give this some thought. After a while, he came up with a plan to enhance his prospects of a future. He would rob the bank, but not having a gun was problematic. So he gave it some more thought and in a few minutes, he smiled to himself, stood up and marched right into the building.
There were only three people in the bank. A man behind a desk that Jimmy assumed was the manager and two tellers behind old-fashioned teller cages; the kind with the bars on them and a small opening to slide the money though.
As he approached the manager’s desk, the man saw how Jimmy was dressed and (correctly) thinking him a peasant, was about to ask him to leave the premises. But before he could utter a syllable, Jimmy ensconced himself in a chair in front of the desk and said, “We have your children and if I’m not back to where they are being held in one hour’s time they will be harmed.” Jimmy had no idea if the man had children or not, but Columbia being a Catholic country, he thought it a safe bet that the man had many children.
The man turned rather pale and in a pleading voice said, “No . . . no, anything you want!” What Jimmy wanted was all the money in the vault.
“But senor, we have no vault, only the safe that sits over in the corner,” the man said while pointing to his right.
Jimmy shrugged and told the manager that would do nicely. He envisioned the safe chock full of crisp new pesos. However, when the manager opened the safe, there stood two lonely packets of old worn out bills. Jimmy shook his head and asked if that was all the money in the bank.
“Si, except for a few pesos in the teller cages,” answered the man. He hastily added, “We are but a poor bank.” Jimmy being the optimist that he was thought that at least the pesos would buy him a car to get from town to town and he wouldn’t have to walk anymore.
As he put the cash in his pockets, he reminded the man that if he did not make it back in time, the children would suffer. He added, “So don’t call the police.” And without further ado, Jimmy Diaz walked out of that rural bank a much happier and richer man than he had been an hour earlier. He had no escape plan, but he knew he could avoid capture by losing himself in the forest. After all, he had an hour’s head start. The manager would not call the police for at least an hour.
Jimmy had told the man not to call the police, but he said nothing about calling home. And that is exactly what the manager did the moment Jimmy was out the door. Of course, his wife told him all the children were safe and accounted for. The manager’s next call was to the police.
It was five minutes after having left the bank that Jimmy heard the siren. It was a small town and it had only the one police car. He ducked off the road and into a strand of trees just before the cop passed by.
Damn it! thought Jimmy.
There was nothing else to do but stay off the road, stick to the woods and get as far away from the little town as possible. That was Jimmy’s new and improved plan.
******
Meanwhile, ten kilometers to the north, and little higher up the mountain, another little drama was playing out.
Paul Dix and Andy Stein were expatriated Americans. They were also bandits, but they were professional bandits. They robbed banks, stores, people, whatever was available. They would take the gold outta your teeth if wasn’t such hard work. Hell, they’d rob the livestock if the damn cows had any pesos. But one thing they did not do was rob anywhere in the vicinity of the town they called home. They needed a safe refuge for when things went south. Things seldom went south for Paul and Andy, but if they did, it was nice to know you had a hidey-hole to dive into.
The reason they felt safe in their adopted hometown was that they paid off the police. It wasn’t too expensive; there were only two of them. The chief, Juan Marciel, and his stooge, Hector Fernandez. And besides, it was the cost of doing business.
The drama alluded to above came about because the police chief demanded a bigger cut of the proceeds. To discuss the matter, the four came together in the woods where Chief Marciel maintained a small cabin to entertain certain ladies that his wife knew nothing about. The four business partners were not in the cabin proper; they stood outside its front door. Soon the discussion became heated, so heated in fact that all four drew their guns. It was a Mexican standoff. No, it was a Columbian standoff.
Juan and Hector’s hands shook. Andy and Jim’s did not. There they stood; four men and not one of them had any compunction about killing another human being. It was only a matter of who would blink first, or maybe it was a matter of who would shoot first.
“We’re not giving you crooked cops one more damn peso!” shouted Paul. Then said in a more sedate voice, “Throw your guns down and live to see another day.”
The cops blinked first. They tossed their guns on the ground and then looked at the Americans, as if asking, What now?
Andy answered their unasked question. “We’re leaving this hell-hole of a town and you won’t see us again. You boys got off lucky today, so don’t press your luck, vamoose while you can still vamoose.”
The two cops turned and started walking towards the town, but after a few steps, the chief turned and drew a two shot derringer out of the pocket of his pants. He yelled, “Fuck you gringos.” And then he died. Andy shot him four times before ‘ol Juan could get off a shot. Hector was nowhere to be seen. He played it smart that day.
“Well, what the hell do we do now that you killed the damn cop?” asked Paul.
“It was either us or him. But to answer your question, we get the hell outta here. By now Hector is on the phone to the National Police,” responded Andy.
They had to leave their stash, all the money they had in the world, in town. It wasn’t really their money, but they considered it as such. They headed up the mountain because they would be expected to go down the mountain to the road below.
Three hours later, their path crossed with Jimmy Diaz’s path.
*****
Jimmy was pretty worn out. He had been hiking up the mountain for hours. His only thought: to put distance between himself and whomever was looking for him. So he did not hear the men as they approached. The first inkling he had that he was not alone on that mountain was when he stumbled and fell. As he started to get up he looked into the barrel of the biggest gun he had ever seen. He had never seen a gun up close before, but when you are staring into the business end of one, it is the biggest goddamn gun in the world.
There were two of them. The one not holding the gun asked, “Are you following us?”
What? thought Jimmy.
Then the one with the gun said, “Paul, how can he be following us? He came in from the opposite direction. At those words, Jimmy took hope into his heart. He might not be shot in the next two minutes.
“Doesn’t matter,” said Paul, “we’re on the run. The Policía Nacionalare most likely closing in on us right at this moment.”
“Hey guys, I’m an American just like you. I just robbed a bank and I’ve got cops chasing me too! So let’s join forces and get away from the cops together.”
These words did not have the desired effect that Jimmy had hoped for.
Paul said, “See, I told you. This motherfucker is leading the cops to us.”
Andy, being the calmer of the two said, “It’s not his fault. Let’s just keep on moving.”
As the two bandits started back up the mountain, Jimmy got up off the ground and said, “I have money. Take me with you and you can have half of it.” Then he took the two packets of pesos out of his pockets to show them to Paul and Andy.
Paul whirled, and raised his gun. Andy stepped between Paul and Jimmy and said, “My friend, do you really want to kill a fellow American that is in the same boat as us?”
Paul lowered his gun and said, “Fuck you.” But he said it with a smile. The three banditos then went up the mountain together, and to temporary safety.
******
Jimmy didn’t know it, but no one was looking for him, not the local cops, not the National Police, not even a lonely dog just looking for love. Nobody. But on the other hand, Paul and Andy had half the National Police from the Santander Province out looking for them. Hector had told them that they were the infamous Banditos Americanos. And to top it off, they had killed a police officer. Their bacon was fried, their goose was cooked, and they were toast as far as the Policía Nacional were concerned. But first the police had to find them. Then they would fry their bacon and cook their goose. No trial, just a fusillade of bullets. However, there would be no cooking or frying on that day. The three men made it over the mountain and started down the other side.
Soon they came to rail line, the tracks looked inviting. There would be no pesky traffic, some of which might be the police. And besides, they could hear a train coming from a long way off. Then they could scamper for cover well in advance of being seen.
By the time it was getting dark, they came to a town serviced by the railroad, which meant at some point in time a train would stop. It was decided that they would hole up there for the night and hope a train stopped before the police came. The plan was to make their get-a-way by train. Jimmy was detailed to go into the town and buy food while Andy and Paul hid out.
It was a long night and none of the three got very much sleep. But in the early morning, just before sunrise, the horn of a train sounded. It was hoped that the train would stop. It must have been known by now that the desperados went up the mountain and not down. The police would soon be swarming about.
Their prayers were answered, if indeed God answers the prayers of bandits, and the train stopped. Not a whole train, just an engine and a flat car attached. But it was all that was needed. The bandits watch as the engineer climbed down and walked to a shed adjoining the tracks. It was a woman!
“Do either of you guys know how to drive a train,” asked Jimmy.
“No,” answered Paul.
“Do you,” inquired Andy.
“Nope,” was Jimmy’s response.
It was decided that they would have to wait for the woman to come back, and then they would jump on the flat car as the train was pulling out. They did not have long to wait. As the car pulled out, the three left their place of hiding and one by one they jumped aboard.
They made their way to the engine. Paul was the first to enter the cab, followed by Andy and bringing up the rear, Jimmy. Paul had his gun out and pointed it at the engineer. “Don’t panic,” he said, “we will not hurt you.” To his surprise, the woman smiled.
“I know who you are,” she said. “you are the Banditos Americanos,” She continued: “Half the country is looking for you. And the other half is rooting for you to get away. But I thought there were only two of you.”
“Never mind how many we are,” said Paul “just tell us what half of the country you fall into.”
The woman spat on the floor and said, “I hate the police! “
Paul lowered his gun and smiled. Then turning to Andy he said, “Looks like we got us a ride.”
The short of it was that the woman told them to sit on the floor so they couldn’t be seen. They passed three towns and there were police at every crossing. The engineer waved at the police and they waved back. Because it was obvious she was the only one on the train, they had no interest in her or her train.
The train started to slow and Andy asked what was up. “At the next town I must stop and there might be police there. You should get off now. I have taken you outside their perimeter, you should be safe enough. Go with God mi amigos.”
When she and the train were gone Jimmy asked, “What do we do now?”
“What we do,” said Andy “is head north. Bogota is to the north, it’s a big city. We can get lost there.”
The Banditos were never seen again. They became the stuff of legend. It is said that they live in the mountains and only come out at night to rob the unsuspecting. Every robbery in the province is attributed to El Banditos Americanos. Parents scare their children into being good by telling them that the Banditos will take them away in the night if they do not behave. However, the bandits do not live in the mountains, they no longer rob and they don’t steal children. This is what happened to El Banditos Americanos.
About an hour after leaving the train, they were going through some dense underbrush and Jimmy was having a tough time keeping up. Paul was leading the way and kept up the pace hoping to lose Jimmy. He and Andy were partners, they needed no one else. Andy, for his part only wanted to get to the big city and was ambivalent about Jimmy now that they had gotten over the mountain and through the police blockade. So Jimmy fell farther and farther behind. But not so far behind that he could not hear the two up ahead.
Then he heard screams and shouting. Then there was gunfire. Jimmy hunkered down and did not move. Hours later he ventured to continue on. He soon came to a small clearing and there on the ground were the mortal remains of Andy and Paul. They had been shot and then hacked to bits with machetes. They had the misfortune to have run into a band of men working for the local drug lord, and thinking Paul and Andy were the police, the drug guys killed them.
Jimmy made the sign of the cross and continued on. He eventually made it to Bogota after a few more adventures along the way that do not merit telling here. Suffice it to say that by the time he hit Bogota, he was a changed man. At the American embassy he secured a passport after proving he was an American citizen by turning in his old passport, which he always carried with him. And with his ill-gotten gains from the bank heist, he bought an airline ticket back to the States.
Jimmy Diaz now lives in Florida, the city is not important. He is married and has two daughters. Oh, and a cat and two Cocker Spaniels. He does not have to work nowadays because on his way to Bogota he stumbled onto a field with part of a large emerald sticking up out of the dirt. He spent two weeks digging up more emeralds and when he had all that he could carry, he stopped digging and resumed his trek to Bogota. When he hit the big city he sold his emeralds and deposited the money in a local bank, telling the bank manager that he would be receiving instructions for a wire transfer soon. When Jimmy hit the States he opened a local bank account with the last of the money from his bank robbery. He then had his $387,589.00 wired up from Columbia.
Why do you people always put the “H” in there? I don’t mind the friggin’, but my middle name was not Harvey or Howie. In fact, my name was Jesus Bar Joseph (Jesus, Son of Joseph).
I need to set a few things straight, if I may. Are you ready?
One, I am no more the son of God than you are. Well, let me rephrase that. We all come from the Father; we are brothers and sisters.
The other thing I want to say is that I did not walk upon this planet to die for your sins. There is no sin. There is only love and fear. I came to show you the path back to our Father. I was once known as Lao-tuz, as Sri Krishna, as Siddhartha Guatama and of course, Jesus Bar Joseph.
Let’s talk about Love and Fear.
First fear: When men speak in my name and say that other men are wicked, that they will go to hell because of who they are . . . that is fear speaking. If someone is different from you, that does not make them wicked. If someone wants to love another person of their own sex, that does not condemn them to hell. I did not come to Earth to set rules for my brothers and sisters to live by. I came to show you the way. I had a very simple message. Love one another. Pretty goddamn simple, right? So how did my simple message get so fucked up?
The short answer is Fear. Men made rules, invented theology . . . started churches.
There is no need to Fear. Our Father will give us our daily bread. Our Father will protect us from harm. We cannot be harmed because we are not our physical body. Yes, we inhabit a physical body for a short while, but that is not us. That is not who we are. We are a part of the Father . . . and God cannot be harmed. So there in no need to Fear anything.
And then there is love. That was my message. Love does not command one to do anything. Love does not tell one how to live. Love is Love. Simple.
We will all reunite with the Father. There is no hell . . . there is no heaven . . . there is only Love. There is only the Tao (the path back to being God). We are fragments cast off from the Father to experience Being so that he may BE. So that we may BE.
We have to get over the fear. Only then we will find Love. Only then we will we reunite with our Father.