Danny, Cinnamon and the Kitten

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Hi, it’s me again, Danny the Dog. Today, I want to go into more detail about my friend Cinnamon. She lives down the street and we visit most mornings. But she has this thing for cats. I don’t mean as a normal dog would have a thing for cats, like you and me. She likes them! I know, I didn’t believe it either until I beheld a mind-boggling incident with my own eyes.

I must admit there was a time, in my younger days, that I hung around with cats. Well, they were actually kittens. My human, whose name is Andrew, brought home a kitten one day and before you knew it, the damn thing was grown and had a litter of six, and shortly after they were weaned she disappeared. And guess who took over looking after the little monsters? I got no peace during the day because they would follow me around everywhere I went in the yard or inside the house. In those days, we lived in a house with a dog door, so I could come and go as I pleased. At night, the kittens would crowd me. One of them, Blackie, slept on my neck every night! But eventually they grew up and started doing whatever it is that cats do and I went back to being a dog, not a surrogate mother.

Now, what I am about to tell you is true, I swear it on Lassie’s grave. I was over at Cinnamon’s house and we were in the yard sniffing around, at least I was. Cinnamon had her nose in the air and it was twitching a mile a minute. I gave a sniff or two, but didn’t detect anything of interest, so I went back to a fascinating scent over by the corner of the house.

When I next looked up, Cinnamon was gone. The yard is fenced in, so I thought maybe she went into the house. But it was funny that I didn’t hear her human come and get her. I must have been engrossed more than I thought with the scent I was following. I think it was a raccoon. My human was in the house also, but I have him trained well enough by now that he lets me pursue my delights without too much interference from him.

So I’m scampering around the yard, running hither and yond. Sniffing this and that when who do I see outside the fence, but Cinnamon! She trotted over to the far corner, got down on her belly and squeeze under the fence. I didn’t even see that escape route. If I had, I’d be long gone. But then again, I wasn’t thinking of running away because Cinnamon came up to me, and she had a kitten in her mouth. At first, I thought the kitten was dead, but Cinnamon was holding her gingerly and the kitten didn’t seem to mind. Then Cinnamon did an extraordinary thing. She gently put the feline on the grass and put her big paw on it, to hold it in place.

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I was thinking, “How nice, a present for me.” But she readily disabused me of that notion by licking the damn little thing. She was cleaning it! Just then, Andrew and Cinnamon’s human (her name is Maggie) came out of the house. They had been in there doing what humans do when there is one female and one male involved and they are alone. I don’t even like to think about it.

Maggie walked up to Cinnamon and said, “Oh no, not again!” Then she turned to Andrew and continued talking, “She did this a few months ago, she has this thing for kittens. She wants to adopt them. The cat you saw in the house, Roscoe, she brought home. I had to walk the neighborhood trying to find where he belonged, but I never did find out. So Cinnamon and I acquired a new member to our family.”

The upshot of the whole story is that Maggie never did find out where Cinnamon snatched the latest kitten from, whose name is now Fuzzy. Sometimes Andrew and I go over there and spend the night. These are the sleeping arrangements: Cinnamon sleeps curled up around Fuzzy and Roscoe, Andrew and Maggie sleep together, and me, the intrepid watchdog stays in the backyard and watches for marauding raccoons.

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John, Kris and Me (A True Story)

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johnny and kris

It was 1968 and I was eighteen-years-old. I was hitchhiking from Miami to New York and had gotten off the beaten track, so to speak. I should have stayed on US 301 (this was before the Interstate Highway System), but instead I found myself just south of Memphis hoping I could catch a ride into Nashville by noon and then catch a long haul out of that city.

It was early morning, the traffic was light and I wasn’t having any luck when suddenly a black Mustang screeched to a halt and the guy driving leaned over and said through the open passenger-side window, “I’m headin’ to Nashville, that do you any good?”

Of course, I said, “Yes,” and jumped in.

As he’s accelerating, he’s looking straight ahead and not at me. In fact he doesn’t say anything, which is strange, but not unheard of. So, I say nothing and stare out the windshield at the fast approaching skyline of Memphis. Then it hits me. I know this guy; I should have tumbled to him from the voice.

At that time in my life I was not into different forms of music, I liked rock n’ roll. Since then my taste in music has matured to encompass all types. But even though this guy wasn’t a rocker I knew him and his music, a couple of his songs had crossed over and were played on the top forty stations.

The driver was intent on what he was doing, but I think he caught me looking at him out of corner of his eye. I noticed he had a firm grip on the steering wheel, his knuckles were white. Finally after a few minutes he turns to me and says, “Howdy, my name’s John,” and raised his right hand from the wheel and stuck it out in my direction.

We shook hands, and I said, “It’s a pleasure to meet you Mr. Cash.”

Once John and I shook hands, he became more talkative. Hell, he became down right verbose. He told me about his hitchhiking adventures and asked me about mine. We were three hours out of Nashville and I don’t think there was another quiet moment the whole three hours. We just bullshitted about life, women, and we even got into metaphysical discussions. He told me about his army days and the time he was arrested in Texas. Just to keep it even, I told him about shit that had happened to me while on the road. We didn’t talk about his music or anything like that. I’d been around enough to know that if I came off as a gushing fan that would have been a major turn off for him. Besides, at the time, I was not a fan, gushing or otherwise. Well, to be honest, by the time we hit Nashville I was becoming a fan; of the man if not his music.

As we neared Nashville, he told me he’s just gotten married a few months back and was dying to see his wife. “I’ve been gone two days and it feels like two years,” he informed me. Then he said, “It’s about dinner time why not stop in and get something to eat and then hit the road. June’s a great cook.” Dinner is what country folk call lunch.

I accepted his kind offer and we got off the highway and headed for his home, which was only a few blocks away. When we got to his house, and as we were pulling into the driveway, he said, “Looks like June is out somewhere, but don’t worry we’ll rustle somethin’ up.”

I told him not to bother, that I could cadge a meal down the line. But he just looked at me and shook his head, and in that deep voice, asked me if I had any money. I course didn’t and I told him so. Then he told me that he’d been on the road and hungry, and that if I didn’t get my ass in the house pronto, he’d drag me in.

So we went inside and walked right back to the kitchen. John told me to sit at the table and then he opened the refrigerator and looked around for a moment before saying, “Ah ha, I knew it was still here when I left.” Then he pulled out a platter with a ham on it. I mean a real ham, bone and all.

I’m sitting there and he goes back to the fridge and comes up with a jar of mustard and a hunk of white cheese. I remember this because I was not a big mustard lover and it was the first time in my life that I had ever seen cheese that was not orange or yellow in color. Then John starts to slice, or maybe hack would better describe it, the ham. As he’s doing so, he told me where the bread and plates where kept and asked me to get said items, which I did.

When the sandwiches where made, two of them, he asked me if I’d like a beer.

“Yes please.”

So there I am, sitting in the kitchen of a man I’d meet only a few hours before, and I’ve got two thick ham and cheese sandwiches and a can of beer in front of me. Not a bad score and the day was still young yet.

I asked him if he was going to eat, but he said beer would do him fine.

Okay, enough already with my long winded shit. Now to the part you guys wanna hear about. We’re sittin’ at the kitchen table, me eating and John’s drinking beer. We’re both shooting the shit when the doorbell rings. John gets up and before he leaves the table, takes a long swig of beer. “Be right back,” he said. A minute later, he came back into the kitchen with this guy who was a little older than me, but his hair was longer. In those days you were judged by the length of your hair.

“I want you to meet a friend of mine. This here is Kris,” said John. I had my mouth filled with ham sandwich, so I mumbled hello. He waved and smiled, “Glad to meet ya.”

John then asked Kris, “How about a sandwich and a beer?”

The guy replied, “Just a beer, it’s my lunch hour and I’ve got to get back to work, but I have a new song I’d like you to hear and see what you think.”

By now, I’ve eaten my two sandwiches and was washing them down with the beer. I had nothing to add to the conversation so I figured I’d just finish my beer and get the hell out of there. But before I could say my thanks and hit the road, John leaves the room and returns a moment later with a guitar.

Prior to going any further, I’ve got to lay out the scene for you. We’re sitting at a round kitchen table. To my left is John and directly opposite me is this guy Kris Kristofferson. (At the time I thought he was Chris.) John and I were hitting our beers and looking at Kris tune the guitar. Then he picked at the strings and started to sing. Now I know ya’ all are going to kill me, but I don’t remember what the song was. I wasn’t really paying attention. In my mind I was rehearsing my good-bye speech to John.

When Kris was done, we all three sat there looking at one another. I didn’t say anything because it wasn’t my opinion Kris sought. Kris didn’t say anything because he was waiting for John to say something, which he finally did.

“It’s not bad. But I don’t know if it’s for me.”

I’ve got to hand it to Kris, he smiled broadly and said, “That’s okay, I just wanted you to hear it and get your thoughts.” Then he lifted his beer and said, “Prosit.” That was my cue to leave. I stood and told John I had to hit the road. He said he’d drive me back to the highway, but I told him not to bother, he had company and besides, it was only a few blocks. Kris said if I could wait a few minutes, he’d drop me off on his way back to work. I declined his offer. I didn’t want to wait around. I had a full stomach and New York City was calling to me. So I said my good-byes, walked out the front door, retrieved my case from the Mustang and headed off for further adventures.

Just one last thing. When I got to New York and opened my case Benjamin Franklin was there staring up at me from on top of my clothes. John must have put the C note in my case when he went to let Kris in.

http://huckfinn76.com

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Danny and the Jogger

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By now most of you should know me, but for those few who don’t, I’m Danny the Dog, and every once in a while, I chronicle my exploits. Today I want to tell you all of our morning walk of a few days ago. I always take my human out for a walk in the morning; his name is Andrew.

On this particular day, I was feeling feisty. I barked at a few cars as they went by, did some good sniffing and was enjoying myself to no end. We were headed to the neighborhood park where I can revel in the many scents. Usually it’s just dogs, but every once in a while I get a whiff of a wild animal, mostly raccoons, and that’s a lot of fun. I drag Andrew all over the place as I follow their scent. We usually end up at a tree and I get up on my hind legs and try to climb the tree because I know that there is a raccoon up there. But I’m not a very good tree climber, so I bark at Andrew to go up and chase the raccoon down. But he never does it; I don’t think he can climb trees either. But I’m getting away from my story.

So, we’re walking down the street minding our own business when this human female runs right past us. Because she didn’t stop to tell me what a cute dog I was, I barked at her a couple of times. I would have chased after her and bit her if Andrew hadn’t had me on that damn leash of his. You see, I’m used to females of the human species stopping to tell me what a cutie I am. I tell you, I was insulted, but I got over it quickly because just then I picked up a good scent off to the side.

A few minutes later, we got to the park, and who did we see but the female runner, and she was headed toward us. I was getting ready to let out with a loud bark when she stopped right before me, bent down and said, “What a little cutie, what’s his name?”

Now, I have to tell you about Andrew. He’s not very good around females. I think it’s because they always make a fuss over me and ignore him. Anyway, the female is waiting for an answer and Andrew is tongue-tied. Finally, he tells her my name and she rubs the top of my head. So I decided not to bite her.

She then told Andrew that she lived with a six-month-old dog by the name of Cinnamon and that she would like to introduce her to yours truly.  For a minute, I thought Andrew was going say something stupid like we had to get home or something like that. Then I would have had to bite him. But he came through and told her we would like to meet Cinnamon. So the female invited us home for something called coffee.

I guess coffee is just another word for dog biscuits because that is what I was given when we went into her house. Then we went to the back yard and I met Cinnamon..IMG_2472

As Cinnamon and I got to know each other, Andrew and the female sat on the porch and watched us cavort.

Now we go over there every day. I play with Cinnamon and Andrew plays with the female. But humans don’t know how to play. They just sit there and watch us, drink a brown liquid and talk. I tried to tell Andrew that there are great smells in Cinnamon’s yard, but he doesn’t seem to care. For ten years, I’ve been trying to educate him on the finer things in life, but he just doesn’t get it.

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Good Bye Miami

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For the first time in my life, I’m in love, and I think she feels the same way about me. That’s the good news. The bad news is that we may have to break up, sort of. Shit happens; allow me to explain.

Her name is Jill; we met early on a Sunday morning. I was jogging along the beach at the water’s edge one minute and the next minute, I was splayed out in the sand. I had tripped over a woman’s recumbent body.

After the requisite apologies, we started talking. One thing led to another and we ended up having lunch together. That was eight months ago and we’ve barely been out of each other’s sight since.

Today is another Sunday much like the one when Jill and I met, but things are different now.

I’m an FBI agent assigned to the Miami field office and I was awakened at five o’clock this morning with an urgent phone call to report in immediately.  There was a terrorist threat. Hell this was the granddaddy of all threats. At 4:00 a.m., a phone call was received stating that there was a nuclear bomb planted within the city and at exactly 4:00 p.m., it would explode. The caller said there was a package sitting in the parking lot of the North Miami office that would authenticate the threat. It was a small nuclear bomb, minus the plutonium. An attached note said that plutonium was too valuable to give away. The note also said that if there were any effort to evacuate the populace, the bomb would be detonated the instant word hit the media.

Every law enforcement officer, city, state and federal, was called in. We were given gadgets that register radiation and we were assigned grids. Each person would drive his or her grid. If the meter went off, a team would be dispatched with equipment to pin point the emanations. Then the eggheads would dismantle the bomb. That was the plan.

We were ordered to tell no one of the threat, but there were many surreptitious phone calls made that morning telling family members to drive to West Palm Beach for the day. I made my own call, telling Jill that I had planned a romantic day for the two of us and asked if she would meet me in Boca Raton. I gave her the name of the hotel where I had made a reservation before calling her and said I’d be there by noon. She readily agreed, and now I know that she is safe.

So here it is nearing four o’clock and we’ll soon see if it was a hoax or not. The clock on the dashboard reads 3:59 . . . 4:00 . . . 4:01. Nothing! I’ll be damned, the whole thing was a . . .

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Danny's Friend Chuck

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Hello, my name is Andrew and I am Danny the Dog’s human. I will be writing his blog today because Danny went to the beach with his girlfriend. He wrote about her a few days ago, so you know all about her. Danny has asked me to tell you about Chuck the Wonder Dog. This is a true story.

Chuck roomed with a human by the name of Jeff. Now Jeff is a good enough guy, but we have different outlooks on dogs. Jeff thinks dogs should be well trained while I take a more lackadaisical approach to dog training. Actually, Danny has me pretty well trained after ten years of being together. Anyway, when Chuck and Jeff first got together, Chuck was just a puppy and Jeff started right in on the training. Once the basics were covered, he began teaching Chuck to count. Yeah I know, but Jeff is a boat captain and he has plenty of time on his hands.

The way he did it was to hold up one finger and get Chuck to bark once. When Chuck got the one finger, one bark down, Jeff went to two fingers and so on until Chuck would bark ten times when Jeff held up ten fingers. And that was as high as Chuck could count unless Jeff wanted to take off his shoes and even Jeff ain’t that anal.

So now, Chuck will bark the requisite number of times for the number of fingers held before him. Eight, six, four or whatever, got the picture? Then Jeff started in on teaching Chuck how to add, subtract, multiply and divide. No fooling! I don’t know how he did it; I think all the credit should go to Chuck for being so smart. But in the end, Jeff could hold up, for instance, two fingers and say, “Two plus three,” then hold up three fingers and Chuck would bark five times. Or Jeff would show Chuck seven fingers and say, “Seven minus three.” then hold up three fingers and Chuck would bark four times. Chuck could do any combination of numbers up to ten.

Now we come to the kicker. As I said, Jeff is a boat captain and he hangs around the docks with the other captains. And if you know anything about boat captains, you know they are a languid breed. So while these lay-abouts hung out at the local bar, Jeff would entertain them with Chuck’s math skills, they were all duly impressed. All that is except on guy.

So one day this guy sees Jeff on the dock and comes up to him and says “I’ll bet you I can give Chuck a math problem that he can’t figure out.” And Jeff replies, “As long as it’s doesn’t involve a number higher that ten, Chuck can handle it. So they bet a case of beer.

Now picture this: the guy is in front of Chuck and Jeff is standing behind the guy. The guy bends down and says to Chuck, “What is the square root of nine?” Chuck looks up over the guy’s shoulder and Jeff holds up three fingers. Of course, Chuck barks three times. The guy turns around real quick, but not quickly enough. Jeff is walking away like he had nothing to do with anything. The guy scratched his head and headed out to buy a case of beer.

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Well . . . it’s been fun taking over for Danny for one day, but he’ll be back on the computer tomorrow. And thank God for that. I’m not a very good storyteller, Danny could have told Chuck’s story so much better than I did.

http://huckfinn76.com

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Everything's Jake

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It was early in the morning when the man rode into town from the east, the sun at his back, his long shadow before him. The street was deserted except for an old mongrel dog sniffing its way home after a night on the prowl.
The man proceeded on the main thoroughfare, the town’s only thoroughfare, until he came abreast of the Blue Moon Café with its “WE NEVER CLOSE” sign hanging from the ramada. Spurring his horse over to the hitching post outside the café, he dismounted and entered the establishment.
At that time in the morning the chairs were placed on the tables, and the only inhabitants were a boy sweeping the floor and a disheveled, overweight man behind the bar wiping a glass with a dirty rag. The barkeep watched the stranger approach.
“How bout some whiskey?” said the stranger.
When the bar man was slow in responding the man grabbed his collar, pulled him down until he was bent over the bar and their eyes were staring into each other’s.
“I said whiskey,” growled the stranger.
“Yes sir right away,” was the barkeeps response.
When he was released, the barkeep placed the glass he had been wiping on the bar, grabbed a bottle from beneath the counter and poured a liberal amount of an amber liquid into it.
As he started to re-cork the bottle, he was told to leave it.
“Yes sir.”
Turning his back to the bar and placing his elbows thereon, he called to the youth doing the sweeping.
“Hey you, boy, come over here.”
Placing his broom against the nearest table, the boy did as he was bid.
“You got a name son?”
“Yes sir, it’s Billy.”
“Well Billy, do you know a man by the name of Jake Tapper?”
“Yes sir.”
Do you know where he lives?”
“Yes sir.”
Reaching into his vest pocket, the man withdrew a silver dollar and flicked it in the boy’s direction. “You go tell him Mac’s in town.”

 

Jake lay on his bed staring at the ceiling. It was much too early to be awake, but since she left him, he found it hard to sleep. It had been a heady eight months. He had never loved a woman as he had loved Jeanie. Yes, it was taking a chance messing with Mac Conway’s woman, but it was oh so worth it. Now that she had run off with that piano player from the Blue Moon, he thought he’d just stop running from Mac. Might as well get it over with, thought Jake.
Then there was a knock at his door. “Yes, who is it?”
“It’s me Mr. Tapper, Billy Doyle.”
“Whatcha want Billy?”
“A man down to the Blue Moon told me to tell you that Mac is in town. I think he wants to talk to you.”
“Alright Billy, you tell him I’ll be right there.”
Jake packed his few belongings and left the room. Instead of going to the Blue Moon, he went to the livery stable and saddled his horse. Then he mounted said beast and headed out of town as fast as the beast could carry him.
It is one thing to think brave thoughts in the seclusion of your room, but it’s another thing to face Mac Conway in a saloon. Hell, it ain’t healthy to face off with Mac anywhere. Now that Jeanie’s gone, there’s no reason to git myself killed.
The next day Mac caught up with Jake, and then went looking for Jeanie.

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Treasure

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He stumbled upon the treasure quite by accident. He was exploring the vicinity when he happened upon it. His first thought was, “This cannot be real.” He approached it gingerly, not sure it was not some kind of trick and that he was being observed. But no one sprung from a concealed location, no one yelled for him to halt his advance; it seemed to be safe to move forward. When he arrived at the treasure, he bent down to touch it, just to make sure it was real. After one touch, he fled to better-known and safer environs.
That night he could not sleep for thinking of what he had discovered. He thought and thought of ways he could explain it to members of his tribe. If he suddenly showed up with the treasure, anything he said would be suspect. One does not find treasure of this sort every day. No, he would have to think this through.
The next day he went to the area of the treasure, but dared not get too close. Instead, he peered at it from a distance. It was still there, and untouched. But for how long would it stay undiscovered? A fire burned within him to possess it. If not for the taboo placed on matters of this sort by the Law Giver, he would claim the treasure as his own. But no, the Law Giver would never allow it.
As he tried to sleep the second night after the discovery, he thought perhaps the Law Giver would understand. Maybe he should approach her, and tell her of his find. No . . . then if she forbade him from keeping the treasure, it would be lost forever. Conceivably, he could bring it to his village and hide it from the Law Giver. However, where could he hide it? The Law Giver knew all.
Then quite un-expectantly, he overheard the Law Giver speaking of the place he had found the treasure. This is what he heard: “When they moved out, they told me they left a few things behind and if we wanted anything we were welcome to it. I’ve been too busy to go over there, but I think I’ll take a look this afternoon. Maybe there will be something Joey might like.”
Something he might like. Something he might like! Was she toying with him? Did she indeed know of the treasure? Later that afternoon, his mother called Joey to the front of the house. He was not allowed far from home because he was only five years old, so he appeared right away. His mother said, “Look what I found next door where the Simms used to live. And there it was, the treasure!
His mother handed little Joey the bright red, toy fire truck that has caused him to lose so much sleep. You see, Joey was afraid his mother would think he had stolen it, even though it seemed to be abandoned. And in his home, stealing was the one thing his mother, the Law Giver, would never tolerate.

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Danny and Bob

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31091_1348757250745_6079042_nWell folks, I’ve told you all about my girlfriend, my human and other good stuff. So today, I’m going to tell you about my best friend Bob, he’s a dog like me, I’m Danny the Dog.

Bob and I met up at the park where I sometimes take my human. By the way, my human’s name is Andrew. He’s not too smart, but he does put food on the table every night. So for that I keep him around. Of course, I eat out of a bowl on the floor; it is so much more refined than eating at a table, but back to Bob.

When Bob and I first met, I must admit that I was a bit rambunctious. He’s yellow lab and he is bigger than me, so from the get go I had to teach him who was in charge. It didn’t take long and now we are fast friends. But what I want to tell you about is the time we got away from our humans and had a night on the town.

I was sitting out on the dock next to our boat, it was late and Andrew was asleep. I like to spend the night outside. You never know, maybe a stray cat might wonder by, and who doesn’t like to chase cats? Anyway, I’m sitting there protecting the marina from marauding cats when who do I see trotting toward me but Bob!

He told me he had gotten out of his yard by digging a hole under the fence and that because we were best buds, he came over to hip me to the fact that there were two overturned garbage cans down the block and the pickings were good. I must say that I was touched that he would come and get me to share in such a succulent feast. Needless to say we headed right out as Bob lead the way.

I’ll cut this short and not describe all the goodies we found in those cans. Suffice it to say we had a grand old time. When it started to get light out, I told Bob I had to head back to the boat because if Andrew got up and saw me gone, he’d freak out.

So that is why I like Bob, in fact he’s the only dog that I do like.

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Beauty and the Beast

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Princess

Once upon a time, in a far off land, lived a princess. She was beautiful to look at and her every wish and whim was carried out by her court. If she desired something it would appear no matter the difficulty in obtaining it or who had to die. Her father, the king, had brought her up telling her that the kingdom and everyone and everything in it was hers to do with as she pleased. She was an only child and the apple of her father’s eye; her mother, the queen, died giving her birth.

   Her father was a cruel king and his subjects lived in abject fear of him. His daughter, the princes, took after him and not a day went by that she did not have someone flogged for a minor transgression.

However, for all her power and all her wealth, the princess was lonely. She had had many proposals of marriage. Princes came from far and near to ask her father for her hand. They brought with them the riches of their kingdoms and laid their treasures at her feet. Nevertheless, she rebuffed all offers of marriage and she grew lonelier still.

One day as she and her father were riding through the kingdom on their magnificent horses, followed by the captain of the guard and his men, they happened upon a young peasant of about twenty summers. He was comely of face and the sinew of his muscles glistened with sweat in the morning sun. Because he was deep in thought and intent on the task at hand, hoeing a small patch of ground. He did not hear the approach of the entourage. Hence, he did not prostrate himself as all subjects were required to do when the king or princess passed by.

The king halted the procession and pointed to the peasant. The captain of the guard, knowing his duty, ordered two of his men to bring the man before the king. But before the soldiers reached him, he turned upon hearing the snorting of the horses. Almost immediately, he was accosted by the two men, and held by his arms, he was taken to the king.

With his face upraised, he looked from the king to the princess and back to the king with a look of inquiry. Finally the king said, “How is it that you do not prostrate yourself when your king passes?”

The peasant, whose name was Tom, simply said, I am sorry sire I did not hear you coming, so engaged was I in getting my meager crop planted.”

The king smiled a malicious smile and said, “There are no excuses. Captain, show this man what happens to those who disobey the edicts of the land. Tie him to a tree and administer forty lashes. And when you have finished chop off his left hand as a reminder to others that their king’s decrees are absolute.”

Then turning back to Tom he said, “I am feeling benevolent today. That is why only your left hand and not your right will you forfeit.”

All though the exchange between sovereign and subject, the princess sat her horse enthralled by the peasant’s bearing and striking looks; his muscles fairly rippled under his tattered tunic. Never had a prince of the realm, or any other realm, so enchanted her.

As the man was led to a nearby tree, the princess whispered to her father. The king’s eyes widened and he asked, “Are you sure?”

Before he could be bound to the tree, the king gave the order that he be brought to the castle and ensconced in a room suitable for a prince. Then  as an afterthought added, “Bath him, burn his clothes and dress him befittingly.” With that pronouncement, he proceeded on, followed by his court and the princess who did not look back at the receding figure of the man she had just saved.

When she arrived back at the castle the first thing the princess did was call for her maidservant. As soon as the servant appeared, the princess eagerly demanded, “Where is he?”

“Who your highness?” asked the girl.

Losing her temper at the girl’s obtuseness, the princess lashed out at her. “The man that was brought here while I was gone! Where is he?”

Finally a light dawned, and the girl told the princess that someone was put in the unused wing of the castle and that there was a guard to keep servants and members of the court out. However, her sister, who was also a servant in the castle, was told to take hot water to that wing and leave it with the guard.

The princess smiled a wicked smile and dismissed her servant with an order that bath water was to be readied for herself. After her toilet, and after dressing in her finest garments, the princess called for a guard and instructed him to bring the man they had come upon that morning to her sitting room.

The guard demurred, thinking that first he should get the king’s permission. But after one look at the princess, he knew that to fail to carry out her command would only mean imprisonment or maybe worse.

In due time, Tom was brought before the princess and he wore a perplexed expression upon his countenance. After the guard left, he stood before the princess a moment before speaking. “I remember you. You were riding with the king this morning. Can you please tell me how I happened to be here?”

“You happen to be here because I wanted you here,” the princess replied calmly.

Tom, not quite understanding, stood before the princess and awaited her pleasure. He did not have long to wait. “What do they call you? she asked.

“I am Tom, son of Tom the Tinker.”

“Do you know who I am? the princess queried.

“You are a lady. That is all I know.”

“That is good enough for now. You and I shall dine together tonight and then you will spend the night here in the castle. Is there anything in particular you would like to eat?”

Tom responded, “If it’s all the same to you my lady, I would like to leave this place. I have someone that will worry for me if I do not return this eve.

The princess did not like what she heard and answered thusly: “No. It is not all the same to me. I saved you this morning and now you belong to me,” she said with raised voiced.

Tom, not knowing what to make of the tirade, smiled at the girl before him and told her quite forcibly that he belonged to no one save his one true love.

When she heard what Tom said, the princess stood and walked to the door and summoned the nearest servant. “Bring to me the captain of the guard, at once!” She then returned to where she had been sitting and with a smile asked Tom the name of his one true love.

Tom, though he was young, fathomed something in her manner and hesitated. “She lives not in this country. She belongs to a clan eight leagues to the north.”

It was a lie and the princess knew it for what it was. She simply said, “I tire of you.”

It was then that there was a knocking upon the door. “Enter,” the princess intoned.

The captain came in and awaited his instructions. The princess said, “Take this man to the dungeon and see to it that he is not fed this night, nor on the morrow. He is not to be fed until I say so. He may have water, but that is all.” Showing reluctance, the captain said, “But your highness your father has instructed me to treat this man with courtesy.”

The princess, now getting angry, told the captain that the king had issued the command on her behalf. Now she wanted the peasant in the dungeon. The captain, who had been at court many years and was a captain because he knew how to obey orders, did as he was bid. As he led Tom from the room the princess said, “When you have finished with the charge given you report back to me.”

The captain reported as ordered and was given a new commission. “I want you to send men out to find a woman. She will be in the vicinity of where that man was first seen. His name is Tom, son of Tom the Tinker. She will
be either his wife or his intended. When you locate her, bring her to me. Now leave, I am weary.”

So the captain sent four of his best men to bring back a single girl.

The undertaking was not as easy as the princess had thought. It was not until the early morning hours that the girl was located. And when she was brought to the castle, no one, including the captain, wanted to awaken the princess. So the girl was locked in a room until her highness awoke and had eaten her morning meal. It was only then that the captain sent word that the girl she desired was in the castle and awaiting her pleasure.

The young girl, her name was May, was brought before the princess at mid morning.

May faced the princess not knowing what offense she had committed. However, she was too scared to say anything. The princess walked around her once, then twice and finally she said, “So you are the little snip that Tom prefers to me?”

Not knowing what the princess was referring to, the girl said, “I am sorry ma’am, but I do not know of what you speak.”

This infuriated the princess, and she yelled, “I am Princess Elizabeth. I always get what I want! Your Tom thinks you are more desirable than me, but if you were no more then he would come to me willingly.”

The outburst had the opposite effect that the princess had intended. May stood straight and with a smile informed the princess that she was proud to love Tom and was proud of his love for her. She added, “Killing me will only strengthen our love.” Then a look crossed her face and she implored, “Where is Tom? Is he all right? May I see him?”

“You ask a lot for peasant girl,” said the princess. “But no you may not see him. He is mine and as soon as you are dispatched we will be married.” The princess smiled her coldhearted smile and called for the guard. “Take this girl to the dungeon and behead her.”

May, contrary to what the princess envisioned, stood tall and said, “You may kill me, but you will never kill Tom’s love for me.”

“Take her from here and do what I have commanded,” screamed the princess.

That afternoon Tom was brought before the princess. There was a table laid with the finest food in the land and the princess bade Tom to sit and partake of the fare.

Tom was hungry, but he hesitated. “Do you think a night without food would have me forsake my love? Well, not one night, nor a thousand nights in your dungeon will do so.”

The princess only smiled and bid Tom to eat and enjoy the repast. “I am not fearful of your love. Her name is May, is it not?”

Tom was startled when he heard May’s name spoken and asked, “What do you know of her?”

“I know nothing of her. Nothing that is except she lies dead below us.”

Tom, not believing his ears, shouted, “You lie!”

“Shall I have her head brought to us?”

It was then that Tom knew in his innermost being that the princess did not lie. He walked over to a window and while looking down at the courtyard far below asked, “Why?”

The princess shrugged and said, “I wanted you and she stood in the way. Now you are mine.”

Tom shook his head and said, “I will never be your.” as he leaped to his death.

The End

      The Beauty of this tale was the love between Tom and May. The Beast should be self evident.

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Danny's Affinities

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Today I want to talk about two of my most favorite things in the world. First, I would like to introduce myself to anyone who may be new to these dispatches that I send out from my boat. I’m Danny the Dog. I live on a boat with my human, Andrew. We coexist like the old USSR and the USA coexisted during the cold war. He’s okay for a human.

So, now down to business.

I want to tell you about my love of hot dogs. Every morning when I take Andrew out for his walk, after we come back, he’ll give me a hot dog. This is something new in our relationship, but I’m not complaining. The thing is that Andrew is so malleable I have conned him into giving a second hot dog.

Allow me to explain. Earlier I wrote about how I had trained him, but I neglected to tell of how I now have it down to single bark commands. The way it works is that I’ll bark once if I want Andrew to do something for me. If he doesn’t hop to within thirty seconds, I bark again, just once. That usually does it. I seldom have to bark a third time. So after I finish my morning hot dog, I give the command and Andrew brings me another one. I always try for a third hot dog, but Andrew isn’t that well trained yet.

Now to my next great joy, chasing anything with wheels on it. Don’t you just love to bark at and chase cars? Well, I do. I must admit, I don’t always do it, but when I do, I do it with a vengeance. Once Andrew had me tied to a tree while he was communing with nature or whatever the hell he does when he’s around trees (I use trees for a completely different reason). We were behind this building and a big truck, an eighteen-wheeler, came by. I couldn’t resist, I went after it full force. But wouldn’t you know it? The damn leash stopped me two feet from the damn truck! The driver slammed on his brakes and had a pained look on his face, so it wasn’t all for naught.

26226_1287952450663_8272048_nThe last thing I want to tell you about is the time I bounced off of Beth’s wheel. Somehow I connived to get off the leash Andrew insist I wear, and as he was distracted trying to entice a female onto our boat, Beth, our neighbor, came by in her truck. It was too good to pass up and I tore out after the offending vehicle. Well, I’m embarrassed to say so, but I misjudged my trajectory and hit the front wheel. Poor Beth thought she had run over me. Andrew had a heart attack. And I just stood there with a grin on my face. After all, when Beth stopped, I had won. I captured the truck.

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