Danny's Friend Sam

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Today I want to tell you about my friend Sam.

He spent the night out on the town. He was running with some of his own kind and they made a night of it. But it wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted a home and a friend. He had been taken from his mother when he was quite young. In fact, he could not remember his mother or his siblings. He was given to a family that did not treat him well.

At the first opportunity he ran away. Now it has been awhile since he has known the love of another. If only he could be loved.

On his way to find a place to sleep the day away, he came upon a boy of about twelve years of age; the boy, whose name was Butch, smiled when he saw him.

“Hi. What’s your name?” asked the boy.

“What’s my name?” he thought, “I don’t know! No one has ever addressed me by any other name than “Hey you!” When I was trying to cadge some food and the old woman would catch me, she would always say, “Hey you, get out of here.” Then she would take a broom to me.

Butch did not wait for an answer. Instead he approached and knelt down to eye level and said, “I like you. I think I’ll name you Sam.”

At that his tail started to wag. Sam sounds like a fine name, he thought.

So it was that the boy Butch and the dog Sam became fast friends and Sam finally found the love and the friend he had yearned for.31091_1348759650805_5378452_n

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Danny's Freedom

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Hey guys, it's me again, Danny the dog.

I've just been reading a little Billy Shakespeare and listening to Kris Kristofferson. Genius will tell out. What got to me this day was how they both spoke to having nothing. Billy said, "Having nothing, nothing can he lose." and Kris wrote, "Freedom's just another word for nothin' left to lose. Nothin' ain't worth nothin' but it's free."31091_1348757250745_6079042_n

In dog years I'm an old man, or an old dog if you will; and with age comes experience and with experience comes wisdom. And with wisdom comes the realization that we need nothing to be, nothing to exist. We accumulate so much crap and it never makes us happy. Here in America we have storage facilities on every friggin' corner We have so much crap we have to pay someone to hold it for us.

Over one hundred years ago Henry David Thoreau told his neighbors that they saved things and put them in their attics and there the stuff stayed until they died. Then their heirs sold the stuff and people bought it and put it in their attics until they died. Ecetra ... ecetra ... ecetra.

Wait a minute ... it's hard to write and listen to Kris ... "Feelin good was easy Lord when Bobby sang the blues. Buddy that was good enough for me ... good enough for me and Bobby McGee ..." http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G-J7mLyD3yc

Wow ... that song does something to me ... okay where was I?

I reckon what I want to say today is that all we need, dogs, humans and anyone else, is love. There is only love. There is fear of course, the fear of not having enough, the fear of not being loved enough. But love will always triumph fear. So my non-dog friends, love. I'm a dog and I love my human unconditionally. Love those around you, never trade your love, never ask for something in return because then it is not love.

"I'd trade all my tomorrows for a single yesterday ..."

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Danny and Me

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31091_1348759650805_5378452_nAlright folks, I've been letting Danny do all the talking up to this point, but now it's my turn. I'm Andrew Joyce and I can talk for myself.

Yeah, I admit that Danny is a better writer than I am, but so what, he's only a dog and I am his Lord and Master.

"HEY ... HEY ...HEY ... It's me ... Danny! No one is my Lord and Master."

"Please Danny ... I know this is your blog ... but you have been talkin' about me and I think it's time I set the record straight."

"The record is straight asshole, you're a friggin' drunk and I do all the writing for you and you take all the credit. Now ... this is my blog so get lost."

"Danny, please let me say something to the fine people who read your blog, all two of 'em'"

"Was that a crack?'

"Whatever."

"Whatever yourself! Okay ... just this once you may have the floor, so to speak. And you better say what you have to say now because it's your only shot."

"Thank you Danny".

It's me, Andrew ... I like Danny, but sometimes he can be a bit much. So, where was I? Oh yeah, I wanted to tell you that I'm not such a fuck up as Danny portrays in his blog. Well, maybe I am, but that is beside the point. Now that I have your attention, I'm a little tongue-tied, but I'll say what I have to say.

I want to tell you of someone. I am, as Danny is always saying, a loser. But I hang on because there is one woman who believes in me. She believes in angles and she believes in me. She believes in losers and she believes in me.

She believes in me.

Her name is Suzanne and she is a beauty. She motivates me to get up in the morning ... she sustains me throughout the day, and she puts me into my bed at night with a smile upon my face. She is everything good ... she is everything.

That's all I wanted to say. Danny is breathing down my neck to get off, so I'll give him back his blog.

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Danny's Road Trip

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Hey guys ... it's me Danny your favourite dog. I'm hangin' out just listenin' to Willie sing a little Kris. My human, Andrew, doesn't get it, he doesn't know that Kris and Willie are speaking for God. Have you ever listened to "Sunday Morning Comin' Down?"

Andrew is off the boat ... gettin' in trouble no doubt. Me, I'm listenin' to Willie.

I love to ride in cars, don't you? Sticking my head out the window, barking at any dogs I see along the way ... I can even put up with Andrew when I'm riding in a car.

So this is what I wanted to tell ya. Two days ago Andrew took me out to his car and opened the door and told me to get inside. Normally I wouldn't do what he wanted. But a ride in the car ... so I jumped in. I didn't know where we were going, but as long as I could stick my head out the window I didn't care.

It was a Sunday morning, the roads were empty, and it was a good thing because Andrew was a little worse for the wear. He had had a rough Saturday night and he was still a little tipsy. And just like in the song, he stopped by a church and we listened to the choir.  It was then that I knew what Kris meant when he wrote, "There's something in a Sunday that makes a body feel alone." Because I saw it in Andrew's eyes that Sunday morning. It was indeed a Sunday morning coming down.

He turned to me and said, "I need a beer."

I thought, "You need more than a beer pal, you need help."

We were still by the church and a lonely bell was ringing ... and Andrew was wishing he was stoned. just like in the song. Friggin' humans!

I knew that the only thing Andrew cared more about than getting high was me. So before he could start the car and go looking for booze on that Sunday morning, I jumped out the window and took off, knowing that he would chase after me. As long as he was focused on me he'd not dwell on ... his Sunday Morning coming down.

I'm sorry to say he caught up with me right away and then we went and bought a six-pack.

It was indeed a Sunday Morning coming down, and it came smack down, right on the head of my human.

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Danny's Dilemma

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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, we spoke the other day. If you remember I was talking about my friend Andrew and how at times he made me sleep out on the deck of our boat. So today I'm here to talk about outrageous fortune. No, not the sleeping outside. Don't tell Andrew, but I like it. Feeling the ocean breeze on my fur, smelling the salt water; it's good for a dog, and let's face it I am a dog.

The outrageous fortune of which I speak is the insidious leash the sonavabitch 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, hell I'm ten years old for Christ sake! I can go out catting (excuse the expression) around at night and still make my way home all by myself.

So here's my bitch. He doesn't use a regular leash like any sane person would use. No, he's gotta use a line from the boat, a twenty foot long line, or rope to you landlubbers out there. I mean it's 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. Me, 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 belong to 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, whose name was Suzanne, the prettiest girl in the bar that night, felt sorry for me and unclasped the leash. Well partners, I took off like a bat outta hell, but I didn't go far. I just wanted to teach Andrew a lesson.

I ran around to the back of the bar and hid under a small tool shed, and there I stayed. I watched that fool Andrew walk around for hours calling my name. He passed within feet of me about a hundred times. And the best part was when it started to rain. I was high and dry and 'ol Andrew was soaked to the skin. After about four hours, I felt sorry for the guy, and seeing as how it had stopped raining, I let my presence be known by one single bark.

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

So, in conclusion to quote another great writer, Robert Burns, "The best laid schemes o' Mice an' Men, often go astray."

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My Name is Danny

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31091_1348759650805_5378452_nHello, My name is Danny. Some people, well, most people, call me a dog. But I am a person just like everyone else. I may be only two feet tall and have four legs (and some fur), but I'm a person nonetheless. Just ask my roommate Andrew.

Andrew and I live together on a boat. It's cozy as long as it's the two of us. However, sometimes he brings home a female and then I have to sleep out on the deck. It's just ain't fair.

The other day I was taking Andrew for a walk, and two females came up to us, and of course, they spoke to me first. "What a cute little fella." the blond said. At that I just had to wag my tail. Then the other one bent down and rubbed my head. Boy do I love it when females rub me!

Anyway, what I'm getting at is that those two would have been plenty happy to come back to the boat with me. And maybe we could have had something to eat (I like hot dogs) and then maybe one of them or both could have scratched my tummy. (I like that too.)

And you know what? Next time I might just bring them back to the boat and then Andrew will have to sleep out on the deck while me and the two girls eat hot dogs and scratch each other's tummies.

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