Another Sad Day
Tag: Danny the Dog
Danny & His Human (Communing with Nature)
A Tree & A Dog
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I'm kind of embarrassed to post this. But not that embarrassed. http://bit.ly/2gal5Wr
Marie Story
This little girl has a sensational blog about children's picture books. Besides that, she is a good egg and I like her. So I'm asking all my 1,523,698 fans to go to her blog and "follow" her. And Danny likes her too. So that should be enough to get you over there and click on the follow button. If not, I'll tell Danny on you.
https://mariestoryreview.wordpress.com
Please reblog this.
Danny's Road Trip
Danny’s Road Trip
Hey guys, it's me, Danny—your favorite dog. I'm hangin' out just listenin' to Kris sing a little Willie Nelson song. 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 Coming Down?
Andrew is off the boat . . . gettin' into trouble no doubt. Me, I'm listenin' to Kris / Willie Nelson.
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 the car.
So this is what I wanted to tell ya. Two days ago, Andrew took me out to his car, 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; however, as long as I could stick my head out the window, I didn't care.
It was a Sunday morning, the roads were empty, which was a good thing because Andrew was a little the worse for wear. He had had a rough Saturday night and he was still a little tipsy. And just like in the song, we 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 makes a body feel alone." Because I saw it in Andrew's eyes that Sunday morning. It was indeed a Sunday morning coming down.
I didn’t know it at the time, but Andrew was looking for something. He had a hurt in his head, he had an emptiness in his soul. We never go for rides to nowhere, but I guess he felt he was already nowhere on that Sunday morning.
He turned to me and said, "I need a beer."
You need more than a beer, pal . . . you need help.
We were still by the church and Andrew was wishing he was stoned.
I knew that the only thing Andrew cared about more 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 would not dwell on his Sunday morning coming down.
I'm sorry to say that he caught up with me right away. Then we went and bought a six-pack.
It was indeed a Sunday Morning coming down . . . and it came down—right SMACK on the head of my human
Danny
P.S. Now, before everyone gets all concerned for poor Andrew, I wrote this a couple of years ago. I didn’t write a new story this month because I’m on vacation. Anyway, it was me to the rescue (as usual) because after that infamous Sunday, I told Andrew to throw the TV out the window and sit down at the computer and write something about his misbegotten youth. It would be a whole lot better than bingeing on the Kardashians, which would drive anyone to drink!
Well, one thing led to another, and now with 140 short stories and four novels under his belt—almost half a million words—he doesn’t have time to get into trouble.
Nowadays on Sunday morning we go down to the local bar and sit outside where dogs are allowed and have a nice healthy breakfast with an occasional Bloody Mary thrown in. No more six-packs.
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Danny the Dog (Author) & a few of his Fans
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Danny's Freedom
Hey guys, it's me again, Danny the Dog. For those of you who don’t know me, I’m Andrew Joyce’s roommate and he is my human.
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."
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 corner. We have so much crap we have to pay someone to hold it for us!
Over one hundred and fifty years ago, Henry David Thoreau told his neighbors that they saved things; put them in their attics and there the stuff stayed until they died. Then their heirs sold the stuff and other people bought it and put it in their attics until they died. Etcetera ... etcetera ... etcetera.
I reckon what I’m trying to say 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 always triumphs over fear. So to my non-dog friends, I say choose love. I'm only a dog and I love my human unconditionally. Love those around you. Never, ever trade your love. Never ask for something in return for your love because then it is not love.
Danny the Dog, over and out.
P.S. This missive was inspired by Kris’ words.
http://geni.us/molly
Danny Trains Andrew (Again!)
Man oh man . . . did I have a restful sleep last night! Well, truth be known, the best part of my slumber was from 6:00 AM to about noon.
Hello fans o’ mine. It is I, Danny the Dog, here once again to regale you with my adventures.
I’m sure most of the planet knows me by now, but for those of you who live in the rain forest of Borneo, whenever the spirit moves me, I write about my adventures with my human. His name is Andrew and if he didn’t feed me every night, I wouldn’t mention him in my communiqués at all.
You all know how well trained Andrew is. He is so well trained, that life has become somewhat boring. So about a week ago, I decided to spice up my life by throwing something new into the mix. And it turned out to be so much fun.
You see, Andrew is very, very indolent. If it were up to him, he’d live like Jabba The Hut. I mean stay in bed all day, I don’t mean have a girl on a leash. Well, maybe if he could get away with it, he’d keep a girl on a leash. Why not? He keeps me on a leash!
Anyway, now to the fun part of my story.
Because Andrew is so lazy, he likes to sleep at least till mid-morning. I don’t really mind, I like to do the same; however, a week ago, I came up with a brilliant plan, if I do say so myself . . . and I do.
At this juncture, I must digress for a moment. You see, although I tolerate Andrew, I do not like sleeping with him. During the day, I have the bed all to myself, unless the lazy so-and-so decides to take a nap after a full day of doing nothing. Then I sigh, get up and go out to the galley (kitchen to you landlubbers). I like the floor there. It’s nice and cool. And of course, at night I sleep there. It’s better than sleeping with Andrew. Anything is better than sleeping with Andrew!
Okay . . . back to our story . . . already in progress.
This is now our life together. I wake up somewhere between 4:30 and 5:30 AM and start a low growl in the back of my throat. Then I start wagging my tail so that it hits the wall. The THUMP, THUMP, THUMP is enough to rouse the dead, let alone Andrew.
When I first started doing this, Andrew thought I wanted to go outside, so after cursing me under his breath (don’t think I didn’t hear that Andrew!), he would get out of bed, get dressed and open the door. Then he would stand there waiting for me to run out so I could do my “business.”
Instead, I made for the bed and stretched out, hogging it all for myself. This went on for a few days until Andrew got hip. But with the growling and tail wagging, he can’t sleep anyway. Now he is trained to get out of bed at my command and then I have it all for myself. He doesn’t mind too much. He says that at least he can get a little writing done while I’m sleeping. Whatever that means.
I’m allowing him the bed as I write these words. But in a few minutes, I’ll get him up and tell him to go to work. Someone has to write his stupid books, and I’m sure as hell not going to do it.
So that’s it. Not a heart-pounding story this time, but very informative if one wants to train one’s human.
http://huckfinn76.com
Danny Feels Sorry for His Fans and Writes a New Story
Okay girls! I know you’ve missed me and I have missed you. But please, stop sending me letters, emails and videos begging me to write some more of my adventures.
Wait, let me back up for a minute. For the few humans on the planet who don’t know who I am, allow me to introduce myself by paraphrasing Mick Jagger. I’m a dog of wealth and fame . . . my name is Danny the Dog, a heartbreaker to all females . . . human and canine alike.
Now back to business. You girls are in luck; I have a new adventure for you.
My latest exploits started on a dark and stormy night. (Wouldn’t you know it?) My human was at the computer pulling his hair out because he had been editing his latest book. That’s the reason I haven’t been writing. My human, whose name is Andrew, and I share one computer and he was hogging it. I was going to bite him, but he is my sole source of food.
Anyway, after two years of writing and research and four months of editing nine to ten hours a day, seven days a week, ol’ Andrew was coming apart at the seams. It wasn’t all the work that was getting him down, although he is very indolent. It was the fact that he thought no one would ever read his genius work. (His word, not mine.)
So just before he fell apart completely. I gave him my one-bark command and I took him for a walk to calm him down. When we returned to the boat, I hopped up on the bench in front of the computer and wouldn’t make room for him. (See accompanying photo.)
I barked at Andrew, telling him to go to bed. Then I stayed up throughout the night fixing his mess for him. And I must say that I’m hell-on-wheels when it comes to writing.
When I was finished saving his career (career?) I went into his email account (I know all his passwords) and emailed the now genius work to his agent.
If he had emailed the book like he had it before I got to it, you would never have heard from Andrew Joyce again. But with my paw prints all over it, look for it on the New York Times bestseller list any day now. And when they make it into a movie, I’m going to play Rin Tin Tin! (I wrote in a part of a hero dog just to give his stupid story some credibility.)
Well folks, that’s it for this go-round. Now that I have more access to the computer, look for my next modest adventure: Danny the Dog Saves the World! As are all my adventures, it is 100% true.