My
name is Andrew Joyce and I write books for a living. Chelsea has been
kind enough to allow me a little space on her blog to promote my
latest book, MOLLY
LEE.
It’s averaging 4.9 stars on Amazon. It is also available in
paperback. Please check it out. Here’s the link:
http://geni.us/molly I would love to tell you all about it, but instead, I have to turn the writing duties over to my dog whose name is Danny. You see, he can be pretty insistent at times. We recently had some excitement in our lives and he can’t wait to tell you about it. For what it’s worth, this is a true story. And when you are finished reading it, please click on the link to my book and check it out. Danny is not the only genius in our household.
Danny
Goes to the Beach
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.
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 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.
If Danny really eats chicken bones, he'll die of it one day. I know from experience. Any good Vet will tell you: chicken bones splinter when he chews them. The splinters can be needle sharp. Sooner or later one of them will puncture his innards, stick in that place and cause a blockage. Dogs that eat a LOT of chicken bones get lots of punctured innards. Sooner or later they die of it, and that particular death isn't much fun for the dog or for the person who has to watch it.
ReplyDeleteJust sayin' my say.
Deke