Danny and the Three Monsters

IMG_2811

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.

http://huckfinn76.com

Danny and Louise

Danny and Louise

Hey gang; it’s me, your favorite dog. It’s me Danny the Dog! I have some exciting news to tell you. My girlfriend came to visit me last week. Her name is Louise and she and I had a lot fun together. Of course, I had to let my human tag along. His name is Andrew and he’s a loser, but enough about him. I want to talk about Louise and all the fun we had.

First of all, she took me to the park and walked with me. I was so proud to be seen with her. All the other dogs were jealous. Then we went to a place that gives you sandwiches. How cool is that! Louise and I had something called a sub sandwich. Andrew had a salad, he is such a sissy.

Then that night we went to my friends’ boat, Mike and Beth. They cooked for us and everyone had a good time. Except Andrew. He was put out that I was spending all my time with Louise. But hey, I’m with him all the time. Louise was going to be here for a few days only.

Of course, I was the star of the party. There were many humans there. Some guy called Gonzo rubbed my fur. And another human named Crabby Mike gave me a bone to chew on. And Beth hugged me and told me I was beautiful. I already knew that, but I let her say it anyway.

But after the party, I was sad. Louise walked me back to our boat and said goodnight. They don’t let dogs in where she was staying. Something called a hotel. So Andrew and I went to bed. I don’t know what he was thinking about. But I went to sleep thinking of Louise. She smelled so nice. A pleasant change from Andrew.

Beth has a brother, his name is Lloyd. He’s not too bad as far as humans go. And he happens to be a great cook, so of course he’s my friend. Anyway, he took one look at Louise and invited her and me to his house for dinner. We tried to leave Andrew behind, but somehow he got in the car. But it didn’t matter. Once at Lloyd’s place Louise and I communed, and I’ve got to say, that for a human she is alright.

Then the next day she went home. I wanted to go with her so badly. But she told me she has a dog of her own. I told her . . . no problem . . . just let me at the little monster. For some reason she didn’t take to that idea.

So here I sit with friggin’ Andrew, missing my friend Louise.

Danny and the Toad

 

Is she gone yet?

Danny the Dog here with another tale of lust and depravity, oh wait, that’s Andrew’s bailiwick. Andrew, for the few of you who don’t know, is my human. My stories have to do with the finer things in life. Such as rolling on the grass, sniffing where another dog has peed and most important of all, hot dogs.

Today’s story has to do with an incident that took place almost ten years ago when I was just a pup, so to speak. What reminded me of it was something that happened this morning while I was walking Andrew.

It was still dark out, we were in the park, and I caught the scent of something vaguely familiar. I put my snoot to the ground and tried to search it out. Andrew stood there tapping his foot and saying, “Come on, let’s go,” over and over again. But as usual, I ignored him. Finally, I got a bead on the elusive scent. It was a toad. I found his hiding place and the little bugger hopped away with me in hot pursuit. Then I was almost yanked off my feet by Andrew as he pulled the leash, that damn insidious leash. Andrew said to me, “Haven’t you learned your lesson? The last time you caught one those, it cost me a lot money to save your life.”

Let me back up for a moment and explain something. Here in Florida, we have these toads, they have a special name, I think Andrew calls them Bufo toads. When they feel threatened, they secrete a poison on their backs and evidently, it can kill you.

A while back when we lived at another marina and I wasn’t on a leash 24/7, I had a run in with one of these toads. I liked that marina. Andrew and I were the only ones that lived there and because it was all fenced in, Andrew would let me roam around at night. It was six acres (whatever an acre is) and I had many adventures on those nights. Someday I’ll tell you about them. However, now it’s about the toad.

I had the run of the marina, and I was having a ball running and sniffing all over the place. Then this big toad had the temerity to jump out in front of me. Me, Danny the Dog! So I took out after him. It was a short race; he ended up in my mouth. I chewed on him for a minute or so, but then I spit him out. He didn’t taste too good. Seeing as how it was near the end of the night (I wasn’t allowed to run around during the day when the gates where open and people were around) I trotted on back to the boat and lay down on the dock to get some much needed rest. It had been a good night.

Andrew must have heard the jingling of my medals (that’s what he calls my tags) because he came up out of the boat. He took one look at me and raced for the hose. Now, you folks that know me know that I do not like water and my first impulse was to run. But I couldn’t move. Andrew later said that I was foaming at the mouth and he knew I had met up with a toad. He washed my mouth out as best he could and when he saw that I was paralyzed (his word); he picked me up and placed me on the front seat of the car.

It being a Sunday, my regular doctor was not around. Somehow, Andrew found a place. This was before he had a computer. I think he used what the ancients called a “telephone book.” Anyway, he carried me in and laid me on a table. A human in a white coat came over and consulted with Andrew. Even though I couldn’t move, I could still hear. The gist of the conversation was that the poison from the toad, among other things, dehydrated me. So a needle was stuck in me. If I could have moved, I would have bit the vet. We were there three hours and the whole time Andrew stroked my head and talked to me. Once I saw a single tear roll down his face.

As Andrew likes to tell it, $900.00 later, he carried me out of there.

In a day or so, I was my old self again, making Andrew’s life miserable and causing trouble. But I did let up bit because I remembered that single tear.

http://huckfinn76.com

Danny Goes to the Beach

IMG_2581

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.

Danny Goes for a Swim

Picture 196

It’s been a tough morning and I’d like to tell you, the gentle reader, of my travails. I’m Danny the Dog as I’m sure most of you know by now. And I’m also sure you know of my human, Andrew.

The morning started out as most of my mornings do. At about 5:00 a.m, I wagged my tail, hitting the wall, and then I started in with my patented low growl. The thump ... thump … of my tail hitting the wall, coupled with the growl, always awakens Andrew.

It was time to take him for his walk.

He begrudgingly hauled his carcass out of the bunk (on boats, beds are called bunks). He went into the head (bathroom) and did whatever humans do when in that room. Then he opened the hatch (door) and I scampered out onto the deck. Of course, I had to wait for him, I always do. He’s kind of old and decrepit; it takes him awhile to ascend the stairs. Finally, we were on our way. If I had known what was in store for me, I would not have been so anxious to start off on this particular walk.

First off, I must tell you that I love messing with Andrew’s head. I mean I like him and all, he’s not too bad for a human, but I’ve got to keep him in his place. After all, I am the dog and he is only the human.

Now there are a few things that Andrew does not like me to do, but I do them anyway. At the top of his list is that he doesn’t want me biting humans. I say if God did not want us biting humans, He wouldn’t have given them to us to bite in the first place

The other two things on his list are no drinking out of mud puddles and eating food I find on the side of the road, particularly chicken bones. I did both of these things this morning just to let him know who was boss. And maybe I shouldn’t have.

Before we even got out of the marina, I stopped at two puddles and drank my full. Concerning the puddles, Andrew has learned a long time ago that I love rainwater and no way am I ever going to let him pull me away when I’m drinking that delightful muddy water.

The next part of the walk didn’t go as smoothly. You see, I have Andrew conned. He lets me sniff to my heart’s desire where other dogs have been. Maybe “lets me” isn’t the right way to say it. It took a lot of training on my part to get him to be patient while I did what dogs love to do. Anyway, as he was thinking I was on the scent of a dog or some other animal, I was really looking for a chicken bone I had discerned.

When I found said bone, I clapped my jaws on it before Andrew knew what was happening. But even a human as out of touch as Andrew couldn’t help but hear the crunch as I bit into that tasty bone. He tried to pry my mouth open to extract it, but he’s too old and feeble. No way was he going get that delicious bone from me. In the end, he gave up. Counting the mud puddle, that was two for the dog and zip for the human.

Now we come to the crux of the matter (I don’t know what crux means, but it looks good with the “x” at the end).

As I’ve told you before, we usually go to a park on our morning jaunts, but not this morning. There is a lake in the vicinity that Andrew likes to go to, but we mostly go in the late afternoon. Andrew likes to watch the sun go down over the lake. He calls it communing with nature, which is ridiculous. Humans don’t know how to commune with nature, only us dogs know how to do that. Hell, we are a part of nature! Anyway, back to the story.

It’s a nice lake if you like water, I don’t. I’ll drink the stuff, but that’s where I draw the line. On the few occasions that Andrew bathes me, it takes all my willpower not to bite him. Around the lake is also some nice green and soft grass. I love to roll on it. Andrew, being the indolent slob that he is, just lies on the grass without rolling on it at all! Unbelievable!

This morning Andrew did what he always does, he tied the long leash to a tree by the water’s edge, the tree on one end of the leash, me on the other. I didn’t mind, there were some good scents in the air, mostly duck. I love barking at ducks, don’t you?  So as Andrew lay recumbent on the grass, I set out to find me a duck to bark at. And it didn’t take long to scrounge up a scent; it led right into the water.

I must not have been paying attention (of course I wasn’t, I was sniffing!) because I found myself on some terra firma that wasn’t that firm. I plunged into the water right up to my neck. It only took me a minute to get back on solid ground, and when I did, I started to shake myself off. But I stopped because Andrew was laughing, he was laughing at me. So I held my instincts in check and went over to Andrew. Then, and only then, did I let loose with the best shake of my life. Now Andrew was almost as wet as me. That stopped his braying.

Andrew was pleased to inform me that falling into the lake was my bad karma for eating the chicken bone. He is always going on about karma and reincarnation. I don’t know about karma, But when it comes to reincarnation, who the hell would want to come back as a human? Not me . . . I might come back as Andrew. God forbid.

 

Danny and the Midnight Marauder

IMG_2443

Howdy folks, it’s time for another one of my fur-raising adventures. For those of you who are new to these pages and my literary genius, I’m Danny, dog extraordinaire.

Unlike my last two communiqués, in this one I shine. I’m the hero.

It was a dark and stormy night. My human, Andrew, was fast asleep in our boat. I was on the dock patrolling the perimeter. When I’m on guard duty, I am always vigilant and on my toes.

They came out of the darkness. There were at least thirty of ‘em, and they were all armed to the teeth. But they didn’t scare me, no sir! I stood up to them, and for every blow I took, I bit three. And when the fur stopped flying, there were bodies strewn everywhere. And those not lying on the dock were in full retreat.

Okay . . . okay already! It’s Andrew, he’s been reading over my shoulder. He’s saying that I can’t tell lies when I’m writing these narratives. Well, he said barefaced lies. Whatever!

It’s his computer, so I reckon I’ll do as he says and tell you what really happened. But I’m still a hero.

It was around midnight, I was asleep and dreaming of hotdogs. (It was a good dream. In it, I was running through a field of hotdogs and eating every one of them.) Then I heard a noise and sat up. There was some guy walking right up to our boat just as fancy as you please. Well, I wasn’t going to take that, so I barked at him. He did a U-turn and made a hasty departure. And that was it.

You know . . . I wish Andrew would stick to his own writing and let me do mine. It read a lot better when I defeated thirty killers.

Danny and the Terror

[caption id="attachment_1048" align="alignnone" width="225"]Is she gone yet? Is she gone yet?[/caption]

I’m back! It is I, Danny the Dog, everyone’s favorite dog. I took a few days off from my writing chores so my human, Andrew, could use the computer. He had to work on some book he wrote. I told him I’d do it for him, but no; he said I don’t write in the same style as he does. Well duh! I’m so much better at writing than he is.

If I remember correctly, in my last story I told you how fearless I am. And I am fearless, however, I have a story to convey that I am not proud of. At first, I was not going to tell you about it, but Andrew says that if I’m going to write about myself, I have to tell of my foibles as well as my strengths. I didn’t know I had foibles, but if I do, perhaps I should see a vet and have them checked out.

Well, I’ve dilly dallied long enough, here’s my sad tale (no pun intended).

Andrew has this friend, a female friend. Yeah I know. I too was surprised that he had a friend, let alone a female friend. But during my long life, I’ve been witness to stranger things. So this friend, whose name is Suzanne, came to visit last week and she brought her dog with her. Now, I am peaceful dog, I come from a long line of peace loving dogs. In fact, my father was so peaceful, he only bit the mailman once a week. But as all of my canine readers will attest to, when a new dog comes onto your turf (or boat in my case), you have to assert your dominance. And in this instance, that was not going to be a problem.

The little critter was tiny. I wasn’t sure if it was a dog or a hairy rat. Andrew, knowing my ways, tied me to a tree so I couldn’t get to the little monster. But I wasn’t giving up. I barked my head off and strained against that insidious leash. And ultimately my efforts paid off, but now I wish they hadn’t. I was tied to a thin branch and it finally broke, freeing me to go and teach that interloper a lesson. I wasn’t going to hurt her, just let her know who was boss.

PENTAX Image

I ran full force right at the little thing, and instead of cowering or running away as any normal small dog would do, she turned and faced me, bared her teeth and started barking at me! I was so unprepared for this turn of events, that I screeched to a halt (and this is the hard part to tell), turned tail and ran. I ran right to the boat, jumped inside and hid under the bed. And do you want to know what the worst part was? As I ran, I could hear Andrew laughing his rear end off.  Or as you puppies would say, LHAO.

The conclusion to my sad story is that eventually I made friends with the little terror. Her name is Maui, and for a little female rat dog, she’s not a bad sort. But she does tend to boss me around a lot.

And as for Andrew, he will never let me forget it. Sometimes when he’s at the computer, he’ll break out laughing, turn to me and in a sickening, sugary voice say, “How’s my big brave doggie doing?  You better watch out, there are a few mean looking cats around.” I could just strangle him at times.

I have to be going, I have an appointment at the vet’s to get my foibles looked at. Until next time dog lovers.

Danny and the Alligator

Picture 334

We slog through the antediluvian swamp, a diaphanous mist rises from the quagmire and a miasmal stench fills our nostrils. The authorities are pursuing us, though we have done nothing wrong. Well, Andrew (my human) has done nothing wrong. I, on the other hand, bit a man, a big fat, obnoxious slob of a man. He had it coming to him; he said I was the ugliest dog he had even seen. Me, Danny the Dog!

After I bit him, he pulled out his cell phone and called the cops, but Andrew and I didn’t stick around and wait for them to show up, we hightailed out of there. Now we are hunted fugitives, with the law closing in. Andrew always told me I’d go to Doggie Jail if I didn’t mend my sorry-ass ways.

They are close now; we can hear their voices, so we pick up the pace. But the going is slow. The water is up to Andrew’s knees and up to my chin. We maneuver around a large cypress tree, and there, before us, is the largest alligator I’ve ever seen. In fact, it’s the only alligator I’ve ever seen. It has to be eighteen feet long if it’s an inch! Its mouth is wide open, showing the enormous teeth of the monster. I stop short and Andrew, who was behind me, trips over me and falls into that gaping, cavernous mouth. The alligator makes short work of him; now all that is left of my human is his right arm and part of his left leg.

alligator

Just kidding folks, Andrew is always telling me I can’t write fiction. I thought I’d show him I could. However, we did meet up with an alligator the other day and I would like to tell you about it.

Actually, there was more than one encounter. The first was three days ago. We were walking in the park where we go every morning. Let me stop and back up for a minute. As most of you know, Andrew and I live in Florida, and the park we go to has a sign saying, “No Swimming because an alligator lives in the lagoon.”  Andrew and I never believed it; we had never seen hide nor hair of an alligator. Do alligators have hair? Anyway, back to my story.

It was before daylight and we were walking along the lagoon when we heard a croaking sound, a loud croaking sound. I was intrigued by it; Andrew was oblivious, as usual. I was pulling on the leash and Andrew was a million miles away, probably wishing he was getting laid more.

As we neared the sound, Andrew came out of his coma and said to me, “Where do you think you’re going? The croaking sound that you are rushing to is made by an alligator and you would make a very fine breakfast for him.” Then he yanked on the leash and started to pull me away. I, in turn, tried my passive resistance thing, but to no avail. I was unceremoniously dragged from the park. I started to walk of my own volition only after we were outside the gates.

That was day one. On day two, we heard the croaking again, and as Andrew has given up any hope of getting laid, he heard it at the same time I did. So we left the park tout de suite (that is French for right away, all at once . . . fast).

On day three (this morning), I finally had my encounter with the alligator. It took some maneuvering, but Andrew is easy to outfox. He was intent on picking up mangoes for our neighbor Peggy and he laid the leash down for a moment. That was all I needed. Before he could stop me, I was tearing along the shore of the lagoon, hell-bent on getting to the place I had last heard the croaking.

I rounded a curve at the far end of the lagoon and came face to face with the biggest alligator I’d ever seen, the only alligator I’d even seen. He was not as big as the one in my fictional account, but still, he was big enough for me. I started to bark furiously, knowing my barking would drive him back into the water. However, a funny thing happened. He stood his ground, and he even took a step or two toward me. That, I hadn’t counted on. My first impulse was to turn and run back to Andrew, but that wouldn’t do. Then I’d lose the upper hand that I enjoy in our relationship.

While still energetically barking, I was wondering what my next move should be when the matter was taken out of my paws. From behind, Andrew snatched me up and started running for the street. I squirmed (but not too hard) letting Andrew know I did not appreciate being taken away from my quarry.

On the way home, Andrew told me that I would not get my daily hotdog when we returned home. It was to be my punishment for running away and scaring him half to death. But when we got back to the boat, he gave me my hotdog anyway and scratched me behind the ear. What softy he is.

http://amzn.to/18HFkQg

Danny, Bicycles and Beds

IMG_2457

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.

http://huckfinn76.com

Danny and Andrew

IMG_2459

Hello fans, It’s me Danny the Dog again and today I think it’s high time I told you about how my human and I met. His name is Andrew. I found him eleven years ago down in Miami. Nowadays we live on a boat in Fort Lauderdale, but I’m originally from Miami. Andrew, as far as I know, has always lived in Fort Lauderdale.

I was six months old and I wanted to go out and see the world. I wasn’t getting any younger and the lure of the road called to me. So one day when no one was looking, I just took off. At first, I had a grand time. I’d sniff my way down one street and then the down the next. I met up with a few other dogs, chased a few cars and thought to myself that that was the life. But after a day or so, I started to get hungry, and unlike the home I had left, the humans I ran into had no desire to feed me. I did get into a few garbage cans, but the pickings were slim.

Then on the third day, I’m running down the street and a white pickup truck stops and this guy gets out and talks to me. I forget exactly what he said, but it was something along the line of buying me a hamburger. So naturally, I jumped into the truck and off we went. About now, you are all thinking that the person was Andrew, well you are all wrong. The guy’s name was Don.

He took me to McDonalds and bought me two hamburgers. Then we went to his house and I stayed with him. I had tired of being on the road. It was nice to be fed every day, and to be loved wasn’t bad either. The only down side was that Don kept calling me George.

Now this is where Andrew comes into the picture. About three times a week Andrew would drive down to Miami to do some business, Don was a friend of his, and they’d get together for lunch whenever they could. So about a week after I found Don, he took me to breakfast where he met up with Andrew. We were introduced; Andrew and I, and the three of us had drive-thru McMuffins. Whatever they are, but they were good.

While we were driving back to Andrew’s car Don said, “I can’t take care of George anymore. I’m going to take him to the Humane Society this morning.” He was? That came as a surprise to me! I thought he liked me, but as you will shortly see there were bigger things happening here, cosmic things.

Then Andrew spoke up, “Look, I live almost across the street from the Fort Lauderdale Humane Society, I’ll take the dog in for you and save you a trip.” So I was put in Andrew’s car and away we went. It’s about a twenty-minute ride from where we left Don to the Humane Society.

As we exited the highway, Andrew turned to me and said, “It looks like I’m stuck with you. I just can’t drop you off to be put in a cage.” I figured that’s what he would do because I gave him a few licks during the ride up, and I tried to look both pitiful and cute at the same time. That ain’t easy, you try it sometime.

When we got to the boat, Andrew told me that he once had a dog named George, so I would need a new name. Hey, I don’t care what you call me; just don’t call me late for dinner! At first, he said he was going to name me Don, but then he changed it to Danny. My full name is Daniel J. Daniels.

Now here is where things get weird. A week later Don was dead. I don’t know if he knew he was going to die or if some cosmic force had him turn me over to Andrew. But here I am living on a boat with my human. He’s not really a bad sort, though it was a chore to get him trained just right. But it’s been worth it. Every morning after I take him for a walk he gives me a hotdog. What dog could ask for anything more? Well, there just one other thing. He loves me, and damn it, I love him.

Post Script: Below you will find a picture of me right after I found Andrew. I was a pretty good looking dog in my youth, if I do say so myself.

IMG_2493