Danny and the Alligator

Danny the Dog

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 has done nothing wrong. I, on the other hand, bit a man—a big, 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 it out of there pronto. Now we are hunted fugitives, with a price on our heads and 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 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.

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. Andrew and I live in Florida, and the park we go to has a sign saying, “No Swimming—alligator in 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 … or at all.

As we neared the sound, Andrew came out of his coma and said to me, “Where do you think you’re going? That croaking sound 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 had 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’s French for right away, all at once … fast).

On day three, 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 ever 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 would not 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 turkey slice when we returned to our boat. It was to be my punishment for running away and scaring him half to death. But when we arrived home, he gave me a turkey slice anyway and scratched me behind the ear. What a softy he is.

Danny the Dog

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Danny Extorts Andrew…

Another great story by me … Danny the Dog.

Chris The Story Reading Ape's Blog

Danny Extorts Andrew

Good morning, everybody. It is I, your favorite dog, Danny the Dog. At least I’m your favorite dog that pens a monthly epistle here on Chris’ blog.

I write about my life, my loves, and my losses—although I do not lose very often. Today, I’m here to tell you about one of my wins. And of course, it’s a win against my arch-nemesis, Andrew, my human.

For those of you who follow my exploits on a monthly basis, you know of my love of turkey slices. How every morning when Andrew and I come in from our walk, he’ll give me a few slices. And you’ll also know that we live on a boat. I only mention that because it has a bearing on my story.

So here’s the set-up. Boats have cockpits—it’s the place you steer from. There are also seats and/or benches where people (or…

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Danny’s Affinities…

Chris The Story Reading Ape's Blog

First, I would like to introduce myself. I am Danny the Dog and I live on a boat with my human, Andrew. He’s okay … for a human. But today I want to talk about two of my most favorite things in the world.

I want to tell you about my love of hot dogs—chicken hot dogs in particular. Every morning when I take Andrew out for his walk, after we come back, he’ll give me a hot dog. This is something new in our relationship, but I’m not complaining. The thing is that Andrew is so malleable, I have conned him into giving me a second hot dog.

Allow me to explain. I have it down to single-bark commands. The way it works is that I’ll bark once if I want Andrew to do something for me. If he doesn’t hop to within thirty seconds, I bark again, just…

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A Walk On The Beach

Aoibha Walsh

Hello everyone! It’s Bailey. You should all know who I am right now but I’ll say it again just to be sure. I’m Aoibha’s sweet little Cava Tzu puppy. I get up to all sorts of mischief. I’m going to tell you about the day Aoibha bought me to the strand. She regretted it long afterwards. I think she still does to this day because she hasn’t bought me there since. You’ll see why later. Now, get comfy, lie down on your doggy bed or sit on a chair like my human does and I’ll tell you what happened when Aoibha and I went to the strand.

It was half past ten and, Aoibha woke up. It was Saturday morning. My favourite. I sat up at the bottom of her bed wagging my tail wildly. I gave a little yawn to make her think I was a cutie and fuss…

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Danny Introduces a Friend…

Here’s a good read for all my fans.

Chris The Story Reading Ape's Blog

Good morning, everybody.

It is I, your favorite dog, Danny the Dog.

I thought I’d do something a little different this month and not complain about my human, Andrew.

He was very pleased to hear that news and even gave me an extra turkey slice this morning.

Right now he’s out celebrating his good fortune, which means I’ll have to bail him out of the drunk tank later this evening.

But enough about him.

Today, I want to talk about my new friend.

Her name is Aoibha Walsh. Aoibha is an Irish name and it’s pronounced Ava.

I’m told “BH” is pronounced like a “V” in Irish Gaelic.

Anyway, she is a pretty little Irish lass who is eleven years old.

She has a dog by the name of Bailey—here’s a picture of him.

I guess he’s okay if you like dogs.

Aoibha also has a cat and some kind…

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Andrew Joyce and Danny the Dog: These Are a Few of Their Favorite Things

SaylingAway

I am absolutely delighted to be able to share this topic with Andrew and his pal, Danny – two of my favorite bloggers!

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Hello, my name is Andrew Joyce. Noelle has asked me and my dog over to her blog today to discuss some of our favorite things. But first of all, I’d like to introduce you to my dog, Danny the Dog.

Say hello, Danny.

Hello.

Could you be a bit more enthusiastic?

Could you get on with it? You dragged me away from a Lassie rerun. She was just about to save Timmy, who fell into a well. I wanted to see how she was gonna do it, seeing as she has no opposable thumbs. You never know, I might have to save you from a well someday. Then you’ll be sorry you didn’t let me finish watching my show.

Okay. Let’s just get down to it…

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Danny and Thunder

Chris The Story Reading Ape's Blog

Danny and Thunder

Danny & ThunderI am fearless. I am Danny the Dog and (to be redundant) I fear nothing. I chase squirrels, chickens, raccoons, ducks and of course, cats. However, there is one thing that kind of gets to me, and that is thunder. I don’t know why that is. My human, whose name is Andrew, told me I should go to a doggie psychiatrist and have a past life regression. He said maybe in a past life I had a run in with Thor, the god of thunder.

Did I ever tell you that Andrew is an idiot?

Usually I have very little to do with Andrew. I take him for a walk a couple of times a day. I allow him to feed me and give me treats, but for the most part, he goes his way and I go mine. But when it thunders, I want to be…

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