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Danny and the Three Monsters

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Hello dog fans, it’s me Danny the Dog! I haven’t been writing much lately because I’ve been helping my human, whose name is Andrew, look after three Labrador retrievers. What a nightmare! There is Chloe, she is fourteen months old, and then there is Beau and Hank. They are both four months old and they are holy terrors. They live on a boat down at the end of the dock. Their human was going out of town and he asked my human to look after the dogs. And Andrew being the idiot that he is, said yes.

First of all, I want to say to my friend Suni that I hope you get well soon. Then I want to say to Jeff, the human that lives with the three monsters, don’t ever leave them in Andrew’s care again. I wouldn’t trust him to look after a taco, much less three dogs.

The trouble started right away. Jeff had two crates (humans call them crates, I call them cages) for Beau and Hank because as I’ve said they are holy terrors. Andrew went over to take them for their first walk after Jeff left, and of course, he has to take me along. More on that later. Anyway, Andrew gets them out of the crates and is getting them off the boat when clumsy Hank falls into the water.

You have to understand this, it was nighttime. It was dark, the water was dark and Hank is black. Andrew and I could see nothing of Hank; we could only hear his splashing around. The dock is about five feet above the water so Andrew couldn’t get him out by standing on the dock. Being the genius that he is (I’m just kidding), Andrew got on the swim platform, which (for you landlubbers) is attached to the back of the boat and is only a foot above the water.

Now this is where Andrew’s genius comes into play. He took off his glasses and placed them on the transom so they wouldn’t slip off when he was bending over to pull Hank out of the water. He called to Hank, and Hank swam over and Andrew got him onto the boat. Then Andrew went to get his glasses and they were not there or anywhere else on the boat. It looked as though Beau knocked them into the water because he had his paws up in that general vicinity while he was watching Andrew rescue his brother (they’re twins). All this in the first five minutes of Andrew looking after the monsters. And it only got better, and by better, I mean worse. I had a ball watching Andrew trying to cope for four days.

On to the next disaster, but first a side note. For some reason Beau is enthralled with me. The damn dog wouldn’t let me alone. He put his snoot in my face, ran around me, bounced around me, he was a royal pain in my rear end. Finally, I had to growl at him and give him a little nip on his snoot to get some peace.

Now back to Andrew’s genius. We got the dogs back on the boat without further mishaps. Andrew fed them and all was well. But then Andrew decided not to put Hank and Beau in their crates. He felt sorry for them being cooped up like that. Big mistake!

The next morning when we went to get them there was poop everywhere. The whole floor was cover in it. The babies got into the dog food bag, ripped it open and ate all the food. Then they pooped everywhere and walked in it. They got it on the couch, on the sliding glass doors, on everything. Needless to say, Andrew, after spending two hours cleaning it all up, changed his mind about the crates.

Last night we were sitting around, Andrew was reading and I was on the computer starting this story when Chloe came on the boat. She’s always coming on here and stealing my water! But she should have been locked in her own boat. Andrew got up, looked out, saw Jeff, and said, “Thank God! Thank God! I barked the same thing. Our days of taking care of the monsters were over. Thank God!

P.S. This morning Jeff came over with Andrew’s glasses. Beau had taken them and hid them in his stash place.

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Danny Wants to Play

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This is another report from Dannyland, and I’m Danny or to my fans, Danny the Dog. Today I’d like to tell you what happened this morning after I walked my human. As most of you know by now my human’s name is Andrew. We live on the “Asun,” that’s the name of our boat. She’s named after my friend Suni. Andrew wanted to call her the “Andrew,” but I nixed that idea. I mean how narcissistic can you get? Well, in his case, a lot.

Before I can get to the events of this morning, I have to preface the story by telling you what happened two days ago. In my last communication, I told you how I outsmarted Andrew and earned myself an hour of freedom. In addition, I told you how while running free I came across a delicious treat and ate it. I’m not sure if it was the treat or what, but that night I got sick. So for a day, I was a bit out of sorts. Andrew made a big show of insouciance and told me it was my karma. He even went so far as to tell me God was punishing me for running away. By the way, don’t blame me for using big words. Andrew makes me learn a new one every morning before he’ll give me my hot dog.

So anyway, after being a little under the weather for a day, I was feeling frisky this morning. When we got back from our walk, Andrew drummed a new word into my head. Today’s word was enfilade. I’m a dog, when am I ever going to need to use a word like that? If he taught me a word like bratwurst, now that is something I could use. I think it’s German for hot dog. And speaking of foreign languages, why can’t he teach me French? I’ll love to go up to a pretty mademoiselle and say, “Je voudrais un hot dog”

I’m getting away from my point. I was feeling good this morning and felt like playing. But would that old fart Andrew play with me? No, he wouldn’t! He sat there at his computer writing some silly story while I lay on the bed and begged him to play with me. I gave a low growl to get his attention then barked one bark. He looked at me and said, “If you want to play come over here and I’ll scratch your head.” I didn’t want a scratch on the head. I wanted Andrew to get on the bed and roll around with me, and maybe rub my tummy. For twenty minutes, every few minutes, I’d give out with a single bark, all to no avail. But in the end, I did win. To shut me up he gave me a hot dog.

I still want to play. When I’m finished writing this, I’m going to jump up on the bed and lick Andrew on the face until he wakes up and plays with me. At the very least, I’ll get a hot dog. By the way, tomorrow’s word is vociferous. He hasn’t told me what it means yet, but he did say my actions this morning inspired him to teach it to me. Maybe it means hot dog.

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Danny Escapes

Is she gone yet?

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.

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Danny Gets Rained On

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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.

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Danny, Bicycles and Beds

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Ahoy all you landlubbers, It’s me Danny the Dog, I’m back once again to tell of my latest exploits. Now, I do know for a fact that a few humans read my humble posts, but my writing is mostly geared to my fellow canines. Having said that, I’ll tell what I’ve been up to the last couple of days.

I live on a boat with my human, Andrew. For the most part, we get along. And as far as roommates go, he’s not too bad. However, as most of you know, humans can be trying at times. For instance, take the situation concerning our bed. Well, on boats they’re called bunks. Don’t ask me why, it’s just something a silly human made up a long time ago.

On boats, you don’t have a regular mattress. One sleeps on foam rubber and there lies the rub between Andrew and I. I’m sure all my canine friends know where I’m going with this. But for my human readers, I’ll explain. There are very few things more enticing then foam rubber to a dog. It’s like dog catnip, if that makes any sense.

Allow me to digress for a moment and set the scene for you. I like to sleep outside most nights, but I spend my days indoors in the air conditioning. So every morning after our walk, I go into the boat and jump up on the bed, or bunk if you will. Then I start to paw at the sheets until I uncover a corner and then I’ll rub my snoot on the foam. Man, does that feel good! Of course, Andrew freaks out, but what else can you expect from a human. He gets on the bed and puts the sheets back in place and calls me a few choice names, but it’s worth it. And the funny thing is I only like to do it in the morning. The rest of the day, I get on and off the bed and don’t even think of that luscious foam rubber lying just under the sheets. Now on to bicycles, or to be more precise let’s talk about Andrew and the one and only time he took me along while he rode his bike.

Andrew is not much for physical exertion; in fact, he’s down right indolent. There is one exception, and that’s when he’s got a female on our bed, which isn’t often. Then he gets more exercise then he does in a month of Sundays, but back to the bike. This morning as he was getting ready to ride to the other side of the marina (I told you he was lazy), I started barking at him to take me along also. Usually when I do that, he leaves the bike and we walk. However, this morning he took me by the leash and off we went, him on the bike and me trotting alongside.

Now I know why he was hesitant to take me with him when he’s on the bike. I crisscrossed in front of him many times and every time he had to put on the brakes, so he wouldn’t run into me. And when I wasn’t doing that, I’d stop to smell an especially intoxication scent, almost pulling Andrew off the bike. When we got home, he told me that was my last time accompanying him while he rode the bicycle. But that’s okay. It was just a training exercise; I caused him all that grief on purpose and he responded as I knew he would. I much prefer walking, I can take my time sniffing, and every once in a while I turn up a treasure, like an old chicken bone. Andrew won’t let me eat them, but I get a crunch or two in before he takes them away.

We just got back from visiting some friends on the far side of the marina, we walked. It pained Andrew to have to walk, but I had a blast. I found a rib bone and had most of it eaten before Andrew got it away from me.

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