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Woof-woof Woof-woof-woof – Translated … Happy Thanksgiving

The holidays are on the way – Happy Thanksgiving, all!

The Holidays are HERE. I hope that the following season is a happy one for each of you.

May your disappointments be few –

May your successes be many –

May your opportunities be plentiful –

May you enjoy good health –

May your football, basketball, and baseball teams win –

May the “calorie sucker” do a good job on all the goodies you’ll eat today –

May we all understand the blessings we have and be thankful –

 

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A Scary Fairy Tale for Halloween ……

 

Telling a scary Halloween story to my niece!

This is a scary fairy tale I told my nice niece Remi for Halloween.

Once upon a time there was this beautiful, kind, and loving dog. Her name was Large Gold Sandrahood, princess of the country, Hambonia. It was said of Sandrahood that she wouldn’t hurt a flea. Of course, that was easy for her because she lived in a flea-less castle and was protected by a monthly ritual where one of her human vassals removed magic potion from a silver package and with great ceremony offered the magic, mystic material to Sandrahood as an epicurean delight.

Everyone in the castle and all that came to visit loved Large Gold Sandrahood. They performed all shorts of traditional acts to exhibit their affection and loyalty for her like the ten minute ear scratch, the ball toss and bend over, and the offerings of Pupperoni and Milkbone biscuits. Sandrahood lived in an unending world of love. It was hard for her to believe anyone was baahh-hhaad.

Then one day, when all her human servants were away, a strange person came to the door. That person knocked and knocked and knocked. No amount of barking, to tell the stranger her servants weren’t home, did any good. Large Gold Sandrahood finally went to the door and opened it, but left the safety chain in place. She said, “Okay Dude, whatcha want?”

Standing in front of Large Gold Sandrahood was a huge fat figure completely covered by a cloak with a hood on it. The creature’s head was small and so far back in the hood its features weren’t visible. A squeaky voice said, “Hello, Large Gold Sandrahood. I’m your Granny Hoody Hood come to visit.”

“My Granny is dead.” Sandrahood wasn’t buying the Brooklyn Bridge today.

The stranger’s voice dropped four octaves. “Would you believe Grandpa Hoody Hood?”

“Would you believe I’m Nicole Kiddman?” Sandrahood replied.

“Nope.”

“You got your answer.” Large Gold Sandrahood started to close the door.

“No! Don’t do that! Can I interest you in an apple or maybe some Fuller Brushes?”

Sandrahood left the door open a crack. “No … GO … AWAY!”

“Wait! Wait! I’m a great kisser. I often change into a toad … oops I got that one wrong. If you go up on your balcony, and stick out your tail, I’ll climb up and save you.” The caped crock was getting desperate. He changed his approach. From the rusty annals of TV channels a voice from Laugh-In spoke, “Would you like a piece of candy, little girl.” It sounded just like Artie Johnson.

Sandrahood snorted, “You have more lines than Harvey Weinstein.”

“No problem. I can get you a part in a movie.” The creature moved exposing six odd-shaped arms and legs.

Sandrahood was alarmed. She screamed, “What a strange number of arms and legs you have!”

“The better to hang on while I eat you!” The creature threw off the cape exposing its 300 pound blob body beneath. In horror, Large Gold Sandrahood couldn’t tell if the monster was a giant tick, or a giant flea, or Michael Moore! She screamed as the monster grabbed the door and tried to pull it open.

But ……….. Large Gold Sandrahood was part Boyscout – she was prepared. She held two pictures up to the partly open door. The monster took one look at them, shrieked, and fell over … quite dead.

When her humans returned they were so concerned for her and apologized for her endangerment. One asked, “How did you dispatch such an ugly, vile, evil monster?”

Sandrahood smiled. “Easy, I held up these. I knew one or the other would do him in. If Hillary didn’t, Don would.”

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This coming Weekend the Geezer (DL Havlin) will be at the Deltona Book Fair with his publisher Taylor & Seale and several of their authors. It will be held Saturday (October 28th) from 9:30 until 4:00. The location is at the Deltona Regional Library, 2150 Eustace Ave., Deltona, FL  32725. He’ll be there most of the day and at the fair sale area 1 to 4.

 

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Happy 4th! … Bring the Cannoli and leave the Firecrackers!

I’m watching from the car as Mrs. G prepares for her ride in the 4th-of-July parade.

It was fun! I got to watch one of my humans participate in our community’s celebration of the birth of our nation. Mrs. G was in Pine Island’s Parade. With the sky-roof open the windows down and the AC running, I felt like an executive in a luxury box at a big-league stadium.

Mrs. G was a pirate. Aaarrggghhh! The boat-float’s slogan was “Give me freedom – or walk the plank.” It works …

The Geezer snapped these pictures before and during the parade. He tries, but he’d be better off writing about what he saw. He uses a camera as well as our cat Oreo swims … not very good. The only thing I didn’t like was the clown (literally) tossing firecrackers closer to me than I liked. The Geezer saw that ended quickly.

“Standing by the corner watching all the floats go by” The Geezer told me to write that. Mrs.G is in part of the boat he didn’t cut off.

It was fun! Now, I’m looking forward to one of those ribeyes I saw in the grocery bags. Grilling Beans, potato salad, and ice cream, YUM! Bring the Cannoli and leave the firecrackers. Happy 4th to you all!

 

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Saaaa-lute!

My salute to all U.S. veterans and our current military. To the living and especially to those who gave their all, God bless you!

 

Thank you!

 

Thank you, Thank you, Thank You!

Words aren’t always enough. We owe so much to those who have fought for our freedom, gained it and have protected it ever since. But since this is the best we can do … THANK YOU from my heart … and the Geezer’s.

 

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Code Blue! Sound the Sirens! Valentine’s Day ALERT!

Valentine's Day - Males forget it at their peril!

Valentine’s Day – Males forget it at their peril!

 

It’s danger days for males! Have you forgotten that gift? Those words? That evening out?

You know what day it is? It’s February 12th. That fact and a couple bucks will get you a lousy cup of restaurant coffee. So why is it so important? It’s two days before the 14th AND the 14th is  … Valentine’s Day! Have all of you males made your plans? Speaking for all ladies, human and canine, there are three days you boys need not forget: Valentine’s Day … Her birthday … Your anniversary (Particularly if a ring is involved).

If you were forgetful, you have this chance to have flowers delivered, buy chocolates or Lingerie, order pajamas or teddy bears, and make dinner reservations.

If you simply intend to ignore the event, let me enlighten you to possible consequences.

  • An empty underwear drawer.
  • The answer to any question you ask in the next thirty days will be “I forgot.”
  • Breakfast will consist of a bologna sandwich.
  • Your in-laws will be invited over for every weekend for three months.
  • Lunch will consist of a bologna sandwich.
  • The TV remote will disappear (I suggest looking for it in the frige freezer, her car’s glove compartment, or taped to the back of the toilet tank.)
  • Calls from all of your credit card companies stating you’re maxed out.
  • The loan of your hunting, fishing, camping, golfing, and tennis equipment to your lovely’s brother … located somewhere in Siberia.
  • Supper will consist of a piece of lettuce and a bologna sandwich.
  • A trip to your bedroom will be like a visit to Greenland complete with a glacier for a bed.

May Zeus, Mars, and Odin forgive you – she won’t.

 

PS- If she’s a reader a good book might work. Try the Geezer’s new book The Bait Man, a suspense/thriller. It’s being released this next week.

 

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A dog’s tale of Christmas spirit

As is my custom, I like to present my readers with a canine crafted Christmas story this time of year. This is a new one.

The Geezer and I wish you all a very "Merry Christmas"

The Geezer and I wish you all a very “Merry Christmas”

I watched the dog from my apartment window. The first time I noticed him was when I was eating lunch one Saturday. It was a blustery December day, cold, dreary … the type day best served by fireplaces, sofas with blankets, hot chocolate, and football games on the TV … not being outdoors. My apartment building adjoins the park where I saw him; that park’s lively April through October, but is as still as a mortuary in the cold Midwestern winter.

The dog was by himself, his actions rather strange for he chose to sit by an isolated park bench away from the access sidewalks that criss-cross the facility. Immobile as a statue, he faced into the wind and waited. I might have forgotten about him if it hadn’t been for the fact he was a Golden Retriever, one of my favorite canine breeds. It was for this reason I noticed the same animal, sitting precisely in the same location, after I returned from church the next day.

I’m a project engineer and elected to take a break in job assignments. Christmas was coming and with it another anniversary. My wife died, an untimely victim of a drunk driver the preceding Christmas day. Our ten years together was hardly enough and there were no children to help fill a Grande Canyon sized void in my life. Pity from relatives and friends, though well-meaning, added to my anguish. Their efforts to force me to indulge in an active social life revolted me. I was home, alone, on Monday and when lunch time arrived, I looked to see if the dog had returned to the park. He sat there, waiting for someone or something, patiently.

It was a bright, sunny day, with clear skies and cool temperatures. Between eating a sandwich, sipping coffee, and reading a novel, I kept tabs on the beast. The dog sat there, gazing intensely at the park entrance. The clock in my kitchen chimed two, I glanced at the dog in time to see him walking, alone, to the park’s front gate. I watched him cross the street and disappear into a maze of apartment buildings and homes. I decided I’d see if he’d return the next day. He did.

At eleven the next morning I saw him stroll through the park entrance, trot straight to the same bench, face the gate, sit on his haunches, and wait. Promptly at two, he left. Fascinated, I waited for the animal to change his behavior. He did not vary from his routine. Rain, wind, bitter cold … nothing made a difference. The only change I could see was his body thinning and a slightly perceivable slow-down in his gait.

A few days before Christmas two inches of snow covered the ground. I fancied I could see the animal shake. The poor dog looked as empty-hearted and forlorn as I felt. Before I gave it much thought, a pack of hamburger was in the microwave defrosting.

When I entered the park and stepped the hundred yards that separated us, the dog never looked at me. His eyes were focused on some unseen being in the world outside the park entrance. Goldens are known for their friendly disposition, but this one never acknowledged my existence, even when I sat on the bench next to him. His body was emaciated, his eyes slightly sunk into his skull.

“Hi boy.” The dog ignored me. “Who are you waiting for?” The retrievers eyes remained fixed on the gate. “You hungry?” I removed the hamburger from a cloth cooler and held it on my lap. The dogs nose twitched and its tongue circled its mouth. It did not move or take its eyes away from their vigil. I unwrapped the waxed paper from around the meat and placed it in front of the dog. It whimpered, but remained immobile. “Go ahead, boy.” He whimpered louder. “Go on,” I coaxed. The dog’s hunger won for a few seconds. He dropped his head over the meat and in a couple of gulps the hamburger disappeared. The dog returned to its watch. No amount of petting or verbal persuasion could distract it from its purpose.

“That dog belong to you?” A policeman stared down at the two of us. His expression was friendly, but sad.

“No, officer. I’ve been watching it from my window.” I pointed to my apartment. “I felt sorry for him.”

“It’s a stray. Some people reported it hanging around their home a couple days ago. I been keeping an eye on it. It doesn’t have a home. Sleeps where it can find a warm spot. One thing it does do, it always comes here during lunch time. I was hoping it was yours. Now I’ll have to call animal control and get it put down.”

“You don’t have to do that, do you?”

“Afraid so … unless someone adopts it.”

I heard myself say, “I will.”

‘Royal’ came home with me from the pound on Christmas Eve. It was obvious the dog had been well trained and cared for before his abandonment. He reacted to his new home with an attitude of grateful acceptance. As I had expected, there was a defined reservation in his demeanor. I new I was number two and probably always would be. We woke on Christmas morning … me grateful that something had entered my life to return some focus to it … he grateful for his improved chance of survival. I told him, “Well Royal, we got each other for Christmas.”

We spent the morning introducing ourselves to each other until eleven. It was then Royal barked for the first time. He changed from being calm and sedate to agitated. He went to the apartment door and scratched it and the floor beneath it. “Have to go out?” I asked. He barked and kept looking back and forth at the door and me. I had the leash on him and as we left the apartment there was no doubt where he was headed.

He led me to the park bench, and we sat there and waited, for what I had no idea. It was sunless, very cold, the wind was vicious, snow flew by horizontally and I settled deeper into my coat, wrapping my scarf over my face. Royal whimpered then began barking. When I uncovered my face he was staring at me … I thought.

From the bench next to me a soft feminine voice said, “I’m so happy that Clancy found a new home.” The voice came from a pretty young lady. Her long silver coat covered her in a manner that was surreal. Her brown hair spilled from a knitted cap, she had brown eyes, and smiling lips.

“You know who the dog belongs to?” I asked. She rose, nodded, said “yes,” and knelt in front of Royal wrapping her arms around the animal. It whimpered softly. The girl said, “Clancy belonged to Sally James. Sally had leukemia. The last weeks she lived she came to this park and sat here with Clancy.” The girl stroked the dog and scratched behind its ears. She put her head next to the dog’s ear and whispered to it. “I lost track of him after Sally died.” She patted the Golden on its head a few times and stood up. She smiled at the dog then at me.

I hoped for a negative answer. “If you’d like to take the dog, since he knows you …”

“Oh, no. I can’t have him with me. No dogs allowed kind of place. He is yours now. Besides, you two were made for each other.”

Royal, or Clancy, rested his head on my knee. His eyes were fixed on mine. It was as though a bond had passed from the dog, through the girl, to me. Looking deep into his eyes, I asked, “Ready to go home, boy?” He whimpered a positive response.

“Jessica approves.” It was the girl’s voice, but my wife’s name. My head jerked up to look at her … to ask her. No one was there. The dog and I were alone. His head and eyes were on me and are hearts were one. The weather hadn’t changed, but my life had suddenly turned warm. I spoke to the wind that howled around me, “Thank you Sally. Thank you Jess.” I will never be sure, but I believe I heard two women’s voices faintly, sweetly answer in the wind, “Merry Christmas.”

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Happy Thanksgiving All!

Sandy wishes you all a happy turkey day!

Sandy wishes you all a happy turkey day!

I know. I know. I’ve been behind in my posts. Sorry, I’ll catch up in the next week or two.

So much for excuses, I have a thing or two to tell you. My human has had a short story (500 words) published in a literary magazine. The magazine is Ripen the Page. Check it out!  http://www.thepagereader.com/blog/  The story is titled, “There are no lights in Naples.” I promise it will grab you.

My humans have been busy going to book events – some I could go on and some not so much! Here are a couple pictures.

"DL when is your next book coming out?" - "It's being released this spring, Dan - it's a suspense/mystery called THE BAIT MAN.

“DL, when is your next book coming out?” – “It’s being released this spring, Dan – it’s a suspense/mystery called THE BAIT MAN.” Dan is one of DL’s biggest fans.

 

The Geezer, sorry that's DL, making a historical presentation to a full house at King's Gate Country Club.

The Geezer, sorry that’s DL, making a historical presentation to a full house at King’s Gate Country Club.

And once again – HAPPY THANKSGIVING !!

 

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