Written for dVerse ~ Poets Pub: Open Link Night –
or – Painting With Your Words hosted by Lillian,
who has asked us to write a poem motivated by
the painting shown below. This is my response.
Tag: Dogs
RDP Friday: global
Today at RDP, Martha asks us to get creative
with the word ‘global’. Thanks, Martha!
The prompt took me back to something I
wrote in 2021. It’s always been a favorite.
Dog Eat Dog
Written for Esther’s “Can You Tell A Story In…..?-#274”
exactly 39 words using the four required prompt words:
‘injunction’, ‘fluffy’, ‘tractor’ and ‘pyramid’ and Esther’s
Writing Prompts #52: ‘team’. This is my 39 word flash.
Heart Of Gold
Written for Ovi Poetry Challenge #85.
This week’s inspiration word is
“friend”. Keeping with this year’s
theme of positivity, this is my Ovi.
Boxer Rebellion
Written for The Unicorn Challenge where we are
asked to get creative in 250 words or less using
the photo below as inspiration. This is my story.
On The Other Side
Written for The New, Unofficial, On-Line Writer’s Guild.
The three prompts this week from TN at OLWG #393 are
1) night will end; 2) look, over there, did you see that?; and
3) sittin’ on a rainbow. This is my story, based on true events
experienced by my son and his wife. Believe or not; it’s all true.
I Gemelli
Resemblance can be a freaky thing. Supposedly everyone has a doppelgänger; someone out there is a duplicate of you with your mother’s eyes, your father’s nose and that annoying mole you’ve always wanted to have removed. We might even have several pairs of clones walking around, each totally unaware of the other’s existence.
It’s been said the longer people have a pet, the more they begin to resemble that pet. Dogs have been matched by strangers to their owners time and time again. The same is true for people; have you ever seen a long-married couple who now look like a set of bookends?
I have many relatives in Italy and Sicily; my family has always said one particular cousin and I have looked like each other since birth. We were born days apart and are called “I Gemelli” … “The Twins”. The first time my cousin Franco and I met, we just stared at each other in fascination. I think Franco and I do bear a strong resemblance however his eyes are blue while mine are green and he’s got a lot more facial hair than I do! LOL! And we have the same Sicilian nose!
The other day I wrote about my best friend Debby and how alike we are, not just our personalities but our physical appearance as well. One of my WP friends was quite interested in my story and left several comments and questions. I promised I’d write a little bit more about me and Debby … two unrelated women who could pass for sisters, perhaps twins at times.
I can’t explain how these things happen but events at my son’s wedding a few years ago proved the old saying true: fact is stranger than fiction.
There were a lot people at the wedding … family, friends, coworkers. My sister, Rosemarie, was there as was my friend Debby. The time arrived during the wedding reception for a family photo session. The music was playing, people were dancing and milling about. Janet, the wedding photographer, was scrambling around trying to wrangle immediate family members for photos. Craning her neck for a better look into the crowded room, Janet turned to me in surprise and said, “You’ve been holding out on me!”
I had no idea what Janet was talking about and asked her what she meant. She replied, “I know your husband has a twin brother but I had no idea you have a twin sister!”
This conversation went back and forth for a little while … me trying to convince Janet that I didn’t have a twin sister and Janet insisting I did! Of course, Janet was talking about Debby! I laughed and said to her “I really hate to burst your twin bubble but she’s not my sister; she’s my best friend.” When I spotted Rosemarie on the dance floor, I said to Janet, “See the woman in the cream-colored dress? She’s my sister.” I guess I really couldn’t blame Janet; even my new daughter-in-law’s relatives thought the same thing. To make matters more confusing, Debby and I were wearing the same dress (totally unplanned)! Mine was deep purple while hers was dark blue.
It took a lot of convincing for Janet to finally accept the fact that Debby wasn’t my sister and that Rosemarie was. I guess the idea of two sets of twins in the same room was just too exciting for Janet … a missed photo op! I wonder if the same people who matched the pet owners with their dogs would match me and Debby as sisters?
You be the judge.
Twins? Maybe, maybe not, but the resemblance is strong….
….except for my actual sister! Go figure!
NAR©2024
Remember this? Here’s the theme song from The Patty Duke Show called “Identical Cousins”
All text, graphics and videos are copyright for The Sicilian Storyteller, The Elephant’s Trunk and The Rhythm Section and are not to be used without permission. NAR©2017-present.
Wordle: It’s Too Darn Hot
Written for Di’s MLMM Monday Wordle #383.
For the past few nights my sleep hasn’t been good but last night was the worst of all. We had a power failure! This was definitely not cool! No AC and nowhere to go to escape the heat. My apartment was dark and all the lights outside were off so I knew this was a widespread blackout, likely covering miles and involving the entire apartment complex. I aimed a flashlight at the thermometer on my balcony. Big mistake: it read 98º! Somehow knowing the temperature made it worse. And the mix of humidity and heat made everything feel gross. I desperately needed to get some rest. Winding my way into the bedroom, I heard a sound like heavy breathing coming from the bathroom. Sweeping the room with my flashlight, I located the source of the sound and I simply had to laugh; my dog Fred found somewhere to hide away from the heat and was fast asleep on the floor of the marble shower! This oppressive weather had done a number on him, too, poor guy. I was drained of all energy. I grabbed a small battery operated fan from the shelf, set it for high and collapsed onto the bed. I was asleep in seconds.
NAR©2024
This is “It’s Too Darn Hot” by Ella Fitzgerald
All text, graphics and videos are copyright for The Sicilian Storyteller, The Elephant’s Trunk and The Rhythm Section and are not to be used without permission. NAR©2017-present.
SOCIALLY DISTANCED
Memories of 2020 ~
A time not soon forgotten.
Both men lived in the same apartment building, one on the ground floor and the other, two flights up. They would see each other in passing, nodding ‘hello’ or muttering the occasional “How ya doing?” They were approximately the same age and had seen each other often but a friendship never developed.
Then the corona virus hit and everything changed.
They happened upon each other in a nearby park, masked up, walking their dogs. One had a golden retriever, the other a chocolate lab. They struck up a socially distanced conversation, at first talking about their dogs then, of course, the craziness of COVID.
They were both unemployed computer engineers, laid off because of company closures. Each one contemplated moving back in with their parents but that was impossible; neither one came from accepting or understanding families.
They started biking and jogging together, often running the six miles that made up the full loop around Central Park. As they talked they discovered they had much in common: their nonexistent love lives, their passion for chess, a fascination with micro-brewing and their dream of working from home as computer app designers. And how gut-wrenching it was coming out as gay. Bittersweet commentaries.
The next step was so natural: moving in together. They could share one apartment and save money, work on ideas for app design programs, dabble in a little home-made beer and totally, passionately, fiercely fall in love.
A new year, a new start. Love in the time of corona.
NAR © 2023
https://weeklyprompts.com/2023/11/01/weekly-prompts-wednesday-challenge-bittersweet/
This is “Under Pressure” by Queen.
MOON WALKING
I was thinking about that night back in March when Max and I went out walking. We were both feeling a little restless and unsettled; walks always took the edge off. It was really quiet on that road; even the usual noisy critters in the woods were not chattering. A brightness broke through the clouds and fog, lighting the way as we went moon walking. That’s when I started softly reminiscing about my life with Max.
“You know, Max, it’s hard to believe we’ve been together four years already – just you and me, constant companions. I still think about the first time we found each other. We both really needed someone in our lives at that time, somebody to fill a void. It didn’t take long before we were best friends.
Working from home during Covid took a little getting used to; being in each other’s space 24/7 could have been disastrous but it turned out to be a blessing. We kept each other from going crazy while holed up inside. I imagined a lot of staring out the window, whining. Thank goodness for that park across the street and our quick jogs for groceries.
Yeah, Max. You’re my main man and I don’t know what I’d do without you. I’ve been tossing some stuff around in my head and I have something very important I need to run by you, buddy: you see, I’ve found someone.
Now, don’t start getting weird on me, Max. This is new territory for me, bringing someone into my life – into your life, too. She’s become very important to me and I hope you’ll like her as much as I do. I’ve been giving this a lot of thought and I’d like her to move in with me … with us. I know this is all very sudden and it’s asking a lot, which is why I want you to meet her and get to know her.
She makes me happy, Max, and I can see all of us spending our lives together. She’s sweet, beautiful and loving. Well, you’ll see for yourself; she’s going to meet us here tonight. I call her Sasha.”
Max and I gave each other a look and I wondered if my eyes said “I know this is a lot to take in”. As we approached a large tree along the side of the road, there was Sasha, waiting for us, and I quickened my step to greet her. We nuzzled and sniffed each other, totally forgetting Max was standing a few feet away, patiently waiting. I looked back and forth between my two loves – one canine and one human – and I hoped Sasha and Max would become best friends, just like me and Max.
Finally Max came over to us and squatted down for a better look. I had no idea what he was going to say and I was a bit nervous. For the first time since we started our walk, Max spoke:
“Well, look at you, Miss Sasha! Aren’t you a pretty girl? You’ve got a lovely lady friend here, Jake, a petite chocolate lab. Let’s see; do you have a collar? Nope, nothing. Well, you’re either a stray, a run-away or someone let you go. I can’t imagine that, not a pretty girl like you.”
Just then Sasha darted over to the tree and emerged with a puppy dangling from her mouth; my heart did a flip. Our little guy couldn’t have been more than a couple of days old. Sasha walked right up to Max.
“Well, would you look at that!” Max laughed. “A little guy and he looks just like you, Jake! I guess congratulations are in order. Well, Jake, Sasha. What do you say we all head home? Sasha, may l carry your pup for you?”
Sasha looked up at Max with trusting eyes and gently placed our pup in his hands. We all headed home, walking in the moonlight; Max hummed a happy tune while Sasha and I trotted close beside.
“Sasha, we really need to find a nice woman for Max, don’t you think?” and my love gave a little woof of agreement.
NAR © 2023
DOG DAY AFTERNOON
Giving an old dog a new bone for Sadje’s photo prompt challenge. Woof!
“You mangy son on a bitch, get your ass off my lawn! Go on … get the hell outta here!”
That was Old Man Jenkins. He and his wife Harriet live next door to us and the source of his rage was none other than our pet French bulldog, Jacques. My husband Ted would run out of the house, apologizing profusely.
“Sorry, Mr. Jenkins! Jacques a handful but he’s just playing. He’s really lovable once you get to know him. Just look at that grin.”
“Get to know him!? Are you freaking nuts, Peterson? That bastard just crapped on my fruit trees!”
“Think of it as fertilizer, Mr. Jenkins” Ted suggested sheepishly and dragged Jacques away.
“FERTILIZER!?! I think you mean just plain shit!
“Hush now, Aaron!” chastised Harriet. “Using such language … why, there’s children next door!”
“Don’t hush me, Margaret! That damn dog’s a menace! If you can’t control your frigging mutt, Peterson, I’m gonna call the cops. Or maybe I’ll just put a bullet between his beady little eyes.”
And the kids started crying.
“Now, Mr. Jenkins, please don’t say things like that. You’re scaring my kids.”
“Well, that’s just too damn bad! You solve this problem or I will … permanently!”
Ted brought Jacques back inside, promising the kids everything was going to be ok, that Old Man Jenkins was just sputtering angry syllables he didn’t really mean.
The next few days we kept Jacques on a short leash. Old Man Jenkins seemed to calm down and busied himself with his fruit trees.
On Saturday morning Harriet Jenkins approached me in the grocery store. “Thank you, Alice, for keeping Jacques out of our yard. Now Aaron can care for his beloved fruit trees in peace. In fact, he’s been so preoccupied he hasn’t noticed the family of critters living in our wood pile. They’re just so darling, I even named them – Caspar, Melchior and Balthazar!”
And off she went, chuckling suspiciously.
Sitting down to dinner later that day, we suddenly heard Old Man Jenkins yelling at the top of his lungs. We never heard him scream like that before so we knew it had to be something awful. Please … not Jacques! We raced outside, stopping dead in our tracks: there stood Old Man Jenkins, pricked by at least 100 porcupine quills.
So that was the “family of darling critters” Harriet was referring to!
“Excellent aim, my little darlings!” exclaimed Harriet. “Guess they know a prick when they see one, Aaron!”
NAR © 2023
Originally published 2018
#WDYS
THE POKER GAME
“How do, ladies and gents? Allow me to introduce myself. I am Dougal James MacTerrier, but everyone calls me ‘Mac’. I’ve been top dog at Barktower Manor for ten years now. You see, his lordship, Hound Ruff Branan saved my life one night after that fleabag Angus ‘Scotty’ Montgomery caught me sniffing around his bitch and nearly tore me apart. In my clan, when another saves your mangy life, you’re beholden to them forever. Truth be told, I’ve had a good life here.
Tonight I’ll be donning my vest and tam as I’m the greeter for the weekly poker game. Sir Ruff and the boys always have a great night playing cards, drinking whiskey and smoking cigars. Well, there was that one game a few weeks back that didn’t turn out so well.
That particular night started out like any other. Sir Ruff, his four cousins the Hounds of Baskerville and the two Boxer Brothers were having a grand time. M’lord’s sweetheart, Madam Pompadour, owner of the fabulously successful pup salon Shampooch, and her saucy poodle assistants were there to cater to everyone’s needs. They looked extraordinarily fetching in their French maid outfits. Tails were wagging, for sure!
It was no secret that the Boxers were in debt big time to loanshark Weezy “Pit Bull” Mulally, and had cooked up a scheme to win back their losses that night. The game was going strong and the pot was getting bigger when one of the Boxers slipped the other a card under the table. Things were looking good for them and they surreptitiously exchanged a few more cards without anyone noticing. The hounds were growling their displeasure as the Boxers won game after game.
Just then Madam Pompadour and her delightful maids came in carrying silver trays of bones, kibbles and bits. When Sir Ruff looked up from his paw of cards, he saw on the bottom of the tray the reflection of the Boxers who were passing winning cards back and forth to each other. M’lord began barking and howling loudly, alerting the other hounds who immediately pounced on the cheating Boxer Boys. The two connivers were no match for the five ferocious hounds and things did not end well for the brothers that night … but they did end permanently.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I hear our guests scratching at the door, eager for tonight’s game. Let’s hope the night goes well. It’s a dog-eat-dog world, you know!”
NAR © 2023
IT’S A DOG’S LIFE
Here’s another fun one.
I changed it up a bit to include one of my friends;
she mentioned me in a poem a while ago so it’s time.
Enjoy this one, my people!
🐘
“Where are we going, Charlie? Huh, huh?? Where are we going?”
“I thought we’d go to the dog park. Would you like that, Earl?”
“The dog park? THE DOG PARK?? OMG! I’m so excited I think I’m gonna pee!”
“You better not! Now settle down and stop licking my face. I’m trying to drive. And quit running around the car or we’re going home.”
“I’ll be good, I promise. You brought the frisbee, Charlie? Oh, man, this is gonna be so great! I can fetch sticks and roll in the leaves and if I’m really lucky you-know-who will be there.”
“Yes, Earl. That cute poodle you’ve been eyeing. What’s her name – Misky?”
“Yup, yup, that’s it Charlie – Misky! ** SIGH ** Hold on, Charlie, this isn’t the way to the dog park. You gotta turn around. We’re going the wrong way! Charlie, turn around!”
“It’s ok, Earl. We have to make one stop first. Why don’t you just lie down and rest. We’ll be there soon.”
“Ok, Charlie. I’ll just lie here on the back seat and save my energy for … hey, why is my crate in the car, Charlie? We never take my crate to the park. Why did you bring my crate?? Why? What’s going on?”
“Earl, sit! Good boy. Look, here’s your chew toy.”
** CHOMP CHOMP **
“Ok, Earl, we’re here. Let’s go buddy.”
“Hey, I recognize this place. It’s the veterinarian’s office! Why are we at the vet, Charlie? I don’t need shots and my nails don’t need trimming. I don’t wanna be here. I wanna go to the park! Charlie, why are you taking my crate out of the car? Why do we need the crate? Charlie, I got a bad feeling about this.”
“Come here, boy. Sit next to me and listen, ok? You’re my best bud and I’ve never lied to you but I didn’t tell you the truth today. I’m sorry. We were never going to the park. I only said that because I didn’t want to upset you. We’re at the vet because it’s time.”
“Time? Time for what, Charlie? Am I sick, Charlie? Am I DYING? That’s it, isn’t it? I’m dying!! CHAAAAARLIE!! I don’t wanna die!”
“Calm down, buddy. You’re not sick and you’re certainly not dying. You’re here today to get snipped.”
“Snipped?”
“Yeah – neutered.”
“NEUTERED?!? ** HOWL ** I’d rather be dead! Why, Charlie, why?? What about Misky? That means I’ll never … you know.”
“Misky? Of course you’ll be able to … you know. You’ll just be shooting blanks.”
“C’mon, Charlie. Can’t we please just go home? I don’t wanna do this. Being a dog without balls is a bitch, metaphorically speaking, of course.”
“It’ll be over before you know it, Earl. Get in your crate now, boy. We’ll go to the dog park in a couple of days and Misky will be there waiting for you.”
“A COUPLE OF DAYS?!? ** WHINE ** This sucks, Charlie! Betrayed by my best friend.”
“Sorry, Earl. Sometimes life’s a bitch, ain’t it?”
NAR © 2019
HORSE SENSE
What does this picture inspire you to write? Another challenge from my friends at “What Do You See?”.
“Hey, Charlie! Phil! Get a load of these jackasses!” neighed Daryl as he stared over the fence onto the country road. “Do they really think they’re capable of winning a race? On two legs?? This takes the cake!”
“Daryl, I’m pretty sure they’re not actual jackasses” whinnied Charlie. “They just look like jackasses!”
Phil kicked up his back legs and snickered loudly. Tossing back his glossy black hair, he gave out a hearty laugh. “That was hysterical, Charlie! ’They just look like jackasses!’ Absolutely priceless!”
“Well, they’re sure acting like jackasses! What the heck are they doing?” asked Daryl.
“They’re jogging – people run around all bandy-legged with arms flailing getting all sweaty going nowhere in particular and looking pretty dumb while doing it.” Charlie explained.
Phil trotted over. “Yeah. I read about these idiots in Horse Beautiful. It’s some kind of craze, far as I can tell .. some sort of asinine exercise routine.”
“Yeah” agreed Charlie. “What a total waste of time! And there’s even more of them running around the city.”
“OMG!” laughed Daryl loudly. “Check out these two in their matching his-and-hers outfits. Look at the shape they’re in! They gotta weigh 600 pounds combined. Can you imagine them riding us? Oh, my aching back! My screaming knees!”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Look at what we got here, boys. Now that’s some fine-looking little filly!” exclaimed Phil as he moseyed nearer to the fence. “Oh yeah. I’d like to see her in a wet t-shirt contest!’
“She sure is something else, alright” Charlie agreed. “Check out those tiny shorts she’s wearing. She can ride me bareback any time she wants!”
“Man, now that’s one stacked number! I could watch her jog and bounce around all day!” Daryl smacked his lips.
“Hey! What are you three flea bags doing all this way from the barn? Farmer Brown’s gonna have a cow if he hears you jumped the fence again!” It was Barkley, the yellow lab who lived on the ranch. “Best get yourselves back home before someone notices you’re gone. C’mon! Giddy-up!”
“Race ya!” snorted Phil and the trio took off leaving Barkley in their dust.”
“Bunch of jackasses!” Barkley yowled indignantly. “Well, good riddance to them and woof to you, sexy lady. You jog by here often? Have I got a bone for you!”
NAR © 2022
#WDYS
ANDIAMO
I was jogging down the marina boardwalk one day last week, my two loyal yellow labs, Daisy and Molly, right by my side. It had been quite a while since we were out together like this and the warm sun felt great on my face. I had locked myself away in my apartment after the death of my beloved black lab, Duke, only taking the girls out when necessary.
But that day I looked at them and realized how my melancholy had affected them. They had become as listless and lost as I. Well, this wasn’t fair to anyone – staying cooped up inside mourning – so off we went on that beautiful day in May. At first it felt like forced fun, just not right being at our favorite place without our buddy, Duke. We started out slowly, three sad sacks just moseying down by the sea, but soon the smell of saltwater and the spray of the ocean began to invigorate us and we picked up our pace.
“Yeah, we needed this, girls. It’s good to be back outside, isn’t it?” and Daisy and Molly looked up at me, their big brown eyes happy again.
We rounded a curve in the boardwalk and off in the distance I noticed a big Cadillac with tinted windows parked outside one of the warehouses. We drew closer and I saw the chauffeur leaning against the car, working on his tan. As we jogged by, the guy yelled out “Yo, pal! Looks like you lost your dog.”
Caught off guard by his statement, I stopped abruptly, nearly tumbling over the girls. With a quizzical expression on my face, I looked at the guy. Without saying a word, he pointed to the leash I had tied around my waist – Duke’s leash – for old time’s sake.
“Oh, this” I said somewhat sheepishly, and before I realized what was happening, I told this total stranger my sad story about Duke.
To my utter disbelief this hulking goon of a guy broke down like a baby, telling me about his dog that died when he was a kid. Just then the door to the warehouse flew open and a couple of very large, intimidating men came out followed by a short squatty guy chomping on a cigar and sporting the most ridiculous toupee I’d ever seen.
This little guy was obviously the boss. He walked around the back of the car and stood there shaking his head. “Mama mia, Bruno, it’s been twenty-plus years since Spot died. I get it. I’m a dog lover myself but enough’s enough. This happens every friggin time. Now say bye bye to the nice doggies and get in the car.”
Wiping his nose on his sleeve, Bruno did as instructed. It was only when the car door opened that I spotted the lustrous black lab in the front seat and my heart stopped for a second.
“Papa’s here, Leonardo” said the man with the toupee. “Andiamo, Bruno! Let’s go home.”
NAR © 2019
| Reposted for Fandango’s #FOWC http://fivedotoh.com/2023/02/06/fowc-with-fandango-plus/ |
The Elephant's Trunk 