Rainbow Ranch, Epilogue

If this had been a feast on any other day, Lucy would have wolfed her entire plate down in record time. Every meal after that would have seen that record broken tenfold with even more food on her plate. But ever since the events of the past few days, pork sausages and gravy-smothered turkey weren’t at the forefront of her thoughts. She started those few days as a skinny little weakling who would shake and shiver at the thought of being obliterated by a sorcerer’s fireball. The destruction of her once beloved tennis ball nearly sent her spiraling off the deep end. But ever since finding the latent courage she always knew she had, there was a major decision she had to make. Would she continue to channel that courage into her newfound role as a soldier in the Shut Up, Stupid Dog squadron or would she return to a life of comfort and belly rubs?

 

The Chiweenie warrior scanned her bulging paranoid-looking eyes across the dining hall and saw that most of her brethren had chosen to return to the comfortable lives they once had. Gone were their humanoid features. In their place were the animal bodies that made them charming and vulnerable in the first place. Cats and dogs sitting at the long dinner table and slurping up chunks of meat with their tongues instead of forks and knives. If they had lips, the sounds of wet smacking would echo throughout the castle. King James Gaines sat at the head of the table with his own plate of mashed potatoes, corn on the cob, and ham slices. To his left was Razor Ripley, an ironic choice for a dinner guest considering skeletons literally didn’t have the guts to eat a gigantic meal. Ripley’s magic was responsible for changing the animal guests back to their original forms, so it was only right that he joined this celebration of victory.

 

Lucy couldn’t find it in her heart to blame these animals for choosing comfort over duty. Ozzie and Callie were well past their prime years and deserved to enjoy a bowl of broth together as the couple they once were. Loki had no business being involved in Harrison’s war at all, so to see him munching down on juicy steak was a long time coming. Every last member of the Shut Up, Stupid Dogs squadron never wanted to be a part of the war either; they were victims of circumstance. Rainbow Ranch was never meant to be a warring nation. It was built to be an animal’s paradise, a second chance for animals who never knew what love was. In Lucy’s mind, that all changed the minute King Harrison decided to bastardize what he and his brother worked so hard to create together. In Lucy’s mind…never again would this be allowed to happen…

 

“Something troubling you, Lucy?” asked King James. “Your plate has gone untouched throughout this entire event. This is your celebration. What ails you?”

 

And just like that, Lucy’s mind was made up. She hopped out of her golden chair and scampered over to where James and Ripley were sitting. She cleared her throat in her usual skittish manner, bowed to her masters, and stood up straight with her paws behind her back. “Your majesty, I have something to say. I want to continue fighting for the Shut Up, Stupid Dogs!”

 

James and Ripley’s eyes widened at the revelation, while the dogs and cats continued to munch on their meals like dogs and cats were always meant to do, no involvement in human affairs whatsoever. Ripley asked, “Are you sure this is what you want? You looked so terrified out on the battlefield, like you couldn’t wait to curl up next to the fireplace once it was all over. Why put yourself through such misery again?”

 

“it’s not miserable!” said Lucy defensively. “I believe in my homeland! I believe in everything we stand for! If another jumbo jerk like Harrison wants to take it from us, he’ll have to go through me!” She punctuated that sentence by jumping high in the air and raising her clenched paw. “I’ll teach the next generation of puppers everything I know about courage and strength! Together we can beat anything that comes our way! We’ll give them the old one, two, buckle your shoe!” The spinning motion was easier to do without her hammer, therefore she landed perfectly on her metal-booted feet.

 

“Your enthusiasm is a breath of fresh air, Lucy the Hammer,” complimented King James. “You do realize that training a new generation of animal warriors is a big responsibility, do you not? It takes a lot of patience, much more wisdom, and the heart of a champion. You’re putting an entire squadron’s lives on your shoulders, which means you’ll have so many expectations to not only meet, but exceed. Are you prepared to take on that role?”

 

“Yes, sir!” The overly-excited Lucy spun around in the air once again and landed like a graceful dancer. “Give me everything you’ve got, your majesty! Let me at ‘em! We’ll be the best squadron ever and nobody will beat us! All hail the Shut Up, Stupid Dogs!” James and Ripley’s shoulders sagged as though Lucy had said something wrong. “Huh?”

 

“About that name…” said Ripley. “It’s officially retired. It was a rather cruel way of keeping you and your brethren in line. You and your new recruits deserve so much better than to be yelled at by an old codger like me. We need something that represents the spunky spirit of our animal soldiers. Something uplifting. Something worthy of their new leader’s excitement and zest for life. Something like…The Tennis Ball Gang!”

 

Lucy and James looked at Ripley as though he had worms crawling out of his mouth, which were probably stuck in his brain somewhere to come up with an idea like that. “Hear me out, you two.” Ripley cleared his throat. “Lucy…that tennis ball was more than a toy for you. It represented something deep within your childlike soul. It represented all the positivity you had despite being placed in a terrible situation that was not of your own making. There were many sad times during your journey, but all they did was lock the positive spirit away until it was needed the most. And when that beloved tennis ball was destroyed in combat, you knew your enemy had made a grave mistake. That tennis ball wasn’t just a toy. It represented passion.”

 

King James patted Ripley’s bony hand. “The sentiment is not lost on me, but outside of our royal circle, no one would know what that meant. Suppose another enemy comes along and threatens our homeland. What if he hears the name Tennis Ball Gang and finds nothing but amusement?”

 

“Let them laugh, your majesty!” Lucy’s excitement took over once again. “Those buttheads can have all the comedy they want, but we’ll see if they’re still laughing after losing to a scared little Chiweenie! Nobody will live down taking a loss at the hands of The Tennis Ball Gang! We’ll be remembered forever! History teachers will love us! Our enemies will learn to fear us! And nobody will mess with our precious fur babies ever again!” Lucy spun around in the air even higher this time, once again sticking the landing like an athlete.

 

James and Ripley stared contemplatively at each other for a while before nodding in agreement. James stood up with a goblet of wine in hand, a proud declaration on the horizon. “Very well! If that’s what you desire the most, it shall be done! Lucy the Hammer, you are now the official captain of The Tennis Ball Gang! You and your charges will work with other squadrons to ensure the safety of our precious homeland! When we say never again, we mean never again! Congratulations, Lucy! An honor well-deserved! Cheers!”

 

As King James took a drink of his wine, Lucy ran circles around his ankles thanking him over and over again like she consumed a handful of pixie sticks. Excitement came naturally for Lucy no matter what the situation, but it all came rushing out at once at the prospect of this new role she had been given. It was indeed an exciting time to be alive. Rainbow Ranch really did give second chances and Lucy took full advantage of those opportunities. Even Razor Ripley couldn’t help but crack a proud grin knowing that his once weakest link was now his strongest ally.

 

What did the cats and dogs think of all this? Were they every bit as excited about this new era for Rainbow Ranch? Were they looking forward to a bright future where happiness was the norm and love ruled over all? Nah. They were more interested in chomping on their plates of meat and licking their own buttholes, not necessarily in that order. What a bunch of divas.

Rainbow Ranch, Chapter 5

The top octave was alive with buzzing noises that prickled Lucy’s ear hairs. Must have been another lightning spell that King Harrison was conjuring up. Must have been how this story was going to end: the same way King Harrison’s life ended before he had stolen Loki as a bodily vessel. This was Lucy the Hammer’s destiny: a half-wiener dog cooked like the piece of meat she was named after. She held her friends tightly as if her armor was enough to shield them from a visit from the Angel of Death. If they were leaving Rainbow Ranch together, they’d cross the Rainbow Bridge together. The silver lining in that cloud? They’d never have to see King Harrison again and they’d never have to fight another pointless war against forces they couldn’t understand.

 

“Out of my face, you annoying tart!” belted Harrison. The buzzing continued, but was now accompanied by sounds of heavy swatting. “Go on, get out of here! Move it!”

 

Confusion didn’t weigh on Lucy’s heart nearly as heavily as grief and despair. She welcomed the new emotion as she turned to see what was up. The buzzing was not from a new lightning spell that would send them into the nothing. It was but an amethyst-colored fly flapping its little wings around Harrison’s face, a ghost of sorts. For someone who loved animals, he was quick to annoy when the lifeforms were slightly uglier than a puppy.

 

Harrison continued to swat at the ghost fly and the “annoying tart” dodged and weaved out of the way with minimal effort. His teeth gnashed together and his fists tightened as this microscopic creature got under…whatever was left of his skin. Even when the ghost fly tried to swoop out of Ozzie’s humble abode, Harrison, visibly frustrated, floated after the little dickens and swatted some more while grumbling and groaning through his slime-covered teeth.

 

Lucy, Ozzie, Callie, and Loki looked at each other with their heads tilted in perplexity. Lucy shrugged her shoulders before the four of them leapt to their feet and pitter-pattered outside to see what was going on. Lucy’s eyes widened and her tiny jaw dropped at the sight of their saviors. “Wow…it can’t be…I don’t believe it…” she whispered.

 

On one side of the snowy hill floated the ghost of King Harrison, a disgraced politician and sorcerer who couldn’t let go of his own demons, even at the expense of those who loved him. On the other side of the hill…King James stood with folded arms and a death stare scrawled across his bearded face. And speaking of death stares, nobody did them better than his necromancer confidant himself, Razor Ripley, whose magic was used to resurrect the fly and cause the momentary distraction. With a flick of Ripley’s bony finger, the magic left the fly’s body and drifted into the dark of space.

 

Both sides of this confrontation stared at each other with murderous intentions, fists clenched, lungs expanding and contracting with raspy flows, and deadly eyes that could have been weapons by themselves if not for the necessity of forged steel. Still in Ozzie’s doorway were the four animals who were responsible for exorcising Harrison’s ghost from Loki’s body. Razor Ripley knew they bore the responsibility and gave an ashen-eyed wink at Lucy, which instead of reassuring her, caused her to gulp and shiver. She could never get used to how creepy the necromancer looked even during moments of happiness.

 

King James uncrossed his arms and took a few steps forward, his steel boots crunching in the thick snow. His eyes never disengaged with Harrison’s furious gaze. “It’s over, brother,” said James. “Your quest for revenge was never going anywhere to begin with…and it has nowhere to go now. This whole conflict was little more than a waste of our time and resources. You could have ruled Rainbow Ranch with a kind heart and a wise mind. You could have asked for help if you needed it. And yet…you continued down your self-destructive path. For what reason, dear brother? Why did this need to happen?” No answer from Harrison, only fury. “Answer me, damn it!”

 

“And how exactly did you plan on helping me?” asked Harrison. “What could you have done to make this pain more bearable? I know! You could reach inside my head and pull out every demon that has ever spoken to me and told me this was a good idea! You can still do it now even as my physical form has turned to rotten waste! What are you waiting for, dear brother?! Do it! It’s the only way!”

 

Razor Ripley took a few steps forward until he was side-by-side with his royal master. “This sarcasm is unbecoming of you, Harrison. You bloody well knew what you needed to do. Talk through it all. Identify your emotions. Process the worst parts of your trauma. The healing would have been most difficult, but not impossible. All that being equal…you couldn’t be bothered to participate in your own rescue. That’s why you’re a ghost and everyone else is alive. And I do mean…everyone.”

 

From the bottom of the mountain, Lucy the Hammer’s old squad mates marched up the hill with weapons in hand and stoicism plastered on their jowly visages. Granted, they didn’t quite dry off from being washed down the power station, they were dogs and hygiene was at least the fourth or fifth item on their list of priorities. As Lucy’s heart dropped to her guts, she clutched her chest, smiled weakly, and tried to stifle a flood of tears that would for sure recreate what happened at the power station. Loki licked her face and got a giggle out of her. The tears would have to wait.

 

“As I said before, brother man…it’s over. Your worthless crusade is over,” said James.

 

The ghost of King Harrison cupped his hands and gathered an ample amount of fire energy, which swirled all around him, igniting a furious passion that was par for the course for a man with his demons. “Nothing is over until I say it’s over! This war will continue whether you’re too lazy to continue it or not!”

 

And just like that, Lucy had enough of this arrogant posturing. She proved him wrong before and she would do it again. She furrowed her eyebrows, set her hammer down, and rolled a snowball into her paws before launching it at the back of Harrison’s head.

 

“Ouch! You stupid dog!” bellowed Harrison.

 

“Death Rattle! FIRE!” commanded Razor Ripley. The snowball strike distracted Harrison long enough that he failed to defend himself from the one spell that could send a ghost into the endless void forever: the Death Rattle. That poor fly’s spirit floated away in short order, may his sacrifice never be forgotten. And after a jagged mini-tornado zipped across the hill, the Death Rattle spell found its mark.

 

Harrison’s ghostly essence contorted and twisted into multiple positions as it struggled to resist its inevitable fate. The morphing proved to make Lucy’s eyes widen and heart race faster than actual combat with this foe just moments earlier. Harrison’s head expanded like a balloon. His arms were growing and shrinking willy-nilly. His legs twisted up in a little knot. His stomach gurgled and boiled audibly enough to gag the dogs standing behind Ripley and King James. And then…Harrison’s ghostly body stretched and thinned out as it expanded to the sky. It stretched…and stretched…and stretched…until it was too thin to even exist anymore. And then…POOF! The glowing energy snuffed out and Harrison was but a distant memory. Such a shame he couldn’t get a proper send-off with his own funeral service, but coming back to life and fighting a meaningless war was a decision he made by himself…and one he would carry with him to eternity.

 

Silence took over the battlefield as everyone involved slowed down to process everything they just went through and saw for themselves. Lucy’s heartbeat steadied. Her eyes dried out and returned to normal size. Her heavy breathing had grown shallow. Everyone stood there and let the moment sink in. No more pointless revenge quests. No more insanity. No more wasted motion. Just a land of animals called Rainbow Ranch, where the abandoned and unloved could finally have a community of their own.

 

After a while of taking it all in, Lucy’s smile started to grow and she let out a few giggles. She picked up her oversized hammer and leapt into the air holding it overhead. “We did it!” The Shut Up Stupid Dogs squadron cheered, barked, and howled at the realization that this brutal struggle was over. Ozzie and Callie hugged each other and rekindled the love that was lost so long ago. Loki rushed over to his true owner and licked his bony toes while King James patted him on the head. Lucy continued to run, jump, and play while swinging her hammer in the air. “We did it! We did it, everyone! We gave that mean old man the old One, Two, Buckle Your Shoe!”

 

In her overexcitement, Lucy swung her hammer in the same spinning motion that caused her to belly flop at the power station. But this time…she landed on her feet. Silence overtook the mountain once again as everyone stared at Lucy’s celebratory dance. She actually did it. She landed on her feet. This just made her smile, spin, and dance even more. Wasn’t that what life in Rainbow Ranch was supposed to be about? Smiling, spinning, and dancing? Running, jumping, wrestling, and playing?

 

But now looking at the weapon of war in her hand, Lucy had a decision to make. She had grown comfortable enough in her role as a soldier protecting Rainbow Ranch from the worst of the worst. At the same time, she longed for the feeling of a tennis ball in her mouth, long-nailed hands scratching her belly, and eating sausages that exploded with juice in every bite. This wouldn’t be a decision she could make lightly, but it was one worth considering now that King Harrison was in the rear view.

Rainbow Ranch, Chapter 4

Loki the Skull’s jowls continued to flap in the icy wind as equally cold words poured from his mouth like hemlock into a glass of wine. He thanked Lucy and her crew for leading him to Ozzie’s cave. He rambled and ranted and raved about animals being too lazy to exact their own revenge against their abandoners. And then he seamlessly transitioned into a nonsensical allegory about icy bridges leading to hell. And he rambled some more until his verbiage became cacophonic word salad. The overuse of magic truly made King Harrison insane, which would explain his obsession with getting revenge for his animals.

 

Lucy would have shed sympathetic tears for the Kafkaesque descent if it wasn’t for the fact that Loki rocked her hammer back and forth like a hypnotic pocket watch. Watching this former king mentally drift away into outer space meant nothing in comparison to the deflated tennis ball that once brought Lucy joy. Her fangs didn’t have much in the way of sharpness, but they clamped down with the utmost tightness at this display of hubris. Lucy’s doggy hairs stood up and prickled against her metal armor. Her tail wagged uncomfortably fast. Her murder victim growls grew deeper with rage the longer this was allowed to go on. And then…

 

“GIVE! IT! BACK!” Lucy launched her tiny body despite protests from Callie and Ozzie. Surely, a lightning bolt or fire bomb was waiting for her at the end of the trajectory. It never came, just Loki ducking out of the way and keeping the hammer to himself. Lucy yipped and yapped as she bounced up and down in an attempt to grab her weapon. Loki always kept it out of reach, sometimes by only a tiny tap. The fact that he could have ended this anytime he wanted to and chose not to brought even more venom out of Lucy’s bitter barks.

 

After what must have been the seventh or eighth attempt to grab the hammer, Loki aimed his paw and finally launched a fire attack…but not against Lucy. A nearby record player that once made Ozzie’s eyes milky with nostalgia had instantly transformed into a pile of black dust, along with whatever piece of licorice pizza Callie attempted to play.

 

Lucy didn’t take time to register the deeper meaning of such destruction and continued to jump after her hammer, which was still hanging over her head like the tennis ball she once loved. She didn’t even pay much mind to Callie shouting, “Okay, that’s it!” and pulling out her golden dagger. Lucy didn’t care if neither of them stood a chance at beating this cackling, jabbering sorcerer. She just wanted her hammer back, the last symbol of what life was all about for her.

 

And then Callie stuck the knife where the sun never dared to shine. Not in Loki’s fuzzy butt, Lucy’s instead. She yipped in pain and jumped even higher than before, which gave her enough height to finally grab her hammer. Loki still held on and the two of them played tug-o’-war over it, all while the sorcerer shot a lightning ball into Callie’s chest and knocked her backwards, almost unconscious.

 

“That wasn’t very nice! GIVE IT BACK!” Lucy screamed, suddenly gaining more strength upon seeing her friend get zapped. It wasn’t enough strength to earn her a tug-o’-war victory as Loki pulled harder himself. The yanks from both sides disturbed their equilibrium and they nearly fell out of the cave together. Lucy would have rolled back down the mountain covered in snow if not for one small mistake on Loki’s part.

 

“Harrison!” said Ozzie in a husky old man voice. Loki’s mistake was awakening the memories in the old cat’s brain. He gazed at Loki with piercing eyes and trembling whiskers, energy forming in his paws at the risk of refrying his brain. “It ends with you!” Ozzie used whatever mana was left in his rotted brain to throw a tiny whirlwind at the tug-o-war scene. He then collapsed face first onto the cold icy ground.

 

Loki let out an arrogant, “Ha!”, as if that was the best the old man could do. But that little spark of wind gave Lucy momentum. Sure, Loki wouldn’t let go, but he didn’t have to. Lucy wasn’t pulling the hammer towards herself. She was pulling it to the side. The little gust along with Lucy’s heroic rage caused her to spin little by little, until she herself was a whirlwind of chaos. She spun Loki around and around while picking up steam, never once letting go of her weapon.

 

Lucy paid no mind to her own rotting brain, she kept spinning Loki around anyways. The sorcerer’s face grew bright green and his eyes watered. His jowls puffed up bigger and bigger and his stomach growled like the tough guy wolf he was trying to be. Spinning, spinning, and spinning until Loki’s fingers slipped further and further down the shaft of the hammer. One tiny slide later and Lucy was reunited with her precious hammer. She plopped backwards into the snow with her vision blurring in and out of focus and her tummy aching like she was about to lose her life in addition to her lunch.

 

Loki fared no better when it came to aching stomachs. His jowls continued to expand as he clutched his midsection and doubled over. He did everything in his power to keep it together. The salt water collecting in his eyes was a souvenir of his last ditch efforts. And then…”BLAAAAAAAAAAH!” Loki puked a bubbling stream of green and gray acid onto the snow.

 

Lucy couldn’t tell if the rising steam was from the vile stench or if spirits were magically floating out of the excess juices. Maybe it was both. She squinted her eyes as hard as she could to relieve them of rapidly freezing tears. She laid there trying to keep her own lunch under control, as every part of her body ached badly enough to want to vomit herself inside out. But the acidic spray never came. Her stomach calmed down long enough for her to drift off into darkness.

 

She didn’t spend too long in the black abyss. The wetness and comfort of a dog’s tongue kissed her furry flesh. If she was a kitty, she would purr at this loving sensation. She did however slowly open her red and puffy eyes to see Loki reviving her with gentle licks. Except this wasn’t the sorcerer she was fighting against this whole time. This was the original Loki, who stood on all fours and never once threw a magical spell. Instead he was just a sweet, tender dog who wanted Lucy to love him as much as he loved everybody, the way a dog should be.

 

“Loki-Pokey!” Lucy squealed before hugging him around the neck and getting a few puppy licks in herself. The labrador snuggled up beside the snow-bitten Lucy and snuggled with her for warmth. “Hey…is that?” She finally put two and two together: Loki threw up King Harrison’s ghost and was no longer possessed by the insane sorcerer. She could smell the chunks of lightning-fried flesh in the puddles of vomit. “It all makes sense now! Yay! We did it, Loki-Pokey! Ozzie and Callie are going to be so proud of us! Hey…wait a minute…”

 

She nipped up and rushed towards Ozzie’s cave, Loki trotting right behind her. Sure enough, Callie and Ozzie were right there face down on the floor, not one movement or sign of life between them. Lucy began to shiver with sadness. “No…no, no, no, no, no!” The two dogs rushed over to the cats’ prone bodies and began furiously licking them. Not even a dog’s loving tongue could revive the old coots. Lucy shook some more as she gazed to the ceiling and howled. Loki howled alongside her and the two of them became a chorus of sorrow at their fallen friends. They sacrificed their lives just so Lucy could have her stupid hammer. They gave so much of their energy to a toxic king that wouldn’t reciprocate.

 

“Ouch! My ears! Will you two stop your cotton-pickin’ yelling!” Callie blurted out. She snapped wide awake while Ozzie took his sweet time in coming around.

 

Lucy, having no sense of boundaries, hugged them both around the neck and shrieked, “You’re alive! You’re alive! Oh, I missed you two so much!” She and Loki continued to lick their feline faces. Callie folded her arms in defeat while Ozzie chuckled and petted Loki’s head. The gang was back together and Rainbow Ranch could finally heal. They could laugh, play, eat sausage, get pettings and love, all the things that animals had at the top of their wish lists. Revenge wasn’t just on the bottom, but it never even made the cut. That was until…

 

“Fools! You’ll never get rid of me that easily!” King Harrison may have been exorcised from Loki’s body, but his poisonous green ghost still hung in the air. He shouted a bunch of mindless gibberish. He summoned energy in his clawed hands. He scratched himself until black pudding oozed from within. It was then that it dawned on Lucy that she forgot her hammer outside. She, Loki, Ozzie, and Callie all snuggled against each other knowing exactly what was coming to them. They hoped their deaths would be swift and merciful. They gave all they could to this fight only for King Harrison’s ghost to hang around.

 

“I love you guys. I love you all…” mumbled Lucy as she squinted her eyes in defeat.

Rainbow Ranch, Chapter 3

Even though Lucy’s metal armor provided most of her warmth, the chilly air of the mountainside nipped at her skin like a predatory case of fleas, each with meat grinder teeth. She hugged herself for extra heat, but the incoming snowflakes made her shiver nonetheless. In such a short amount of time, one snowflake on her canine nose turned into an entire winter of defeat and agony. Without her war hammer and tennis ball, she might as well have been the most naked being in the entirety of Rainbow Ranch. How was she supposed to fight Loki the Skull now? Barking and clawing could only do so much against a sorcerer who flashed in and out of combat as he pleased. Lucy became jealous of Callie the Wildfire for having any kind of weapon at all, the golden knife in question.

 

“Get a move on, Lucy! Ozzie is vulnerable out here!” roared Callie. Toughness would have been an admirable trait during these times, but all it did was make Lucy’s eyes water, which in turn hardened into icicles that shattered on the ground. It was completely normal coming from Razor Ripley, but Callie was a stranger who appeared unsympathetic to Lucy’s struggles. Then again, Callie had little to worry about wrapped up in the warmest orange fabric. Why burden herself with an annoying Chiweenie’s suffering?

 

The mountainside trek weakened Lucy’s legs to where they were trembling with or without a freezing temperature. She was used to scampering up to any challenge, but such athletics were punished with a painful gut and sour breathing. There were many times when Lucy wanted to just plop over and allow whatever was going to happen to happen. No weapon, no bravery, and no help beyond someone who couldn’t stand her to begin with. This was a losing battle against an opponent with seemingly endless magical energy. Lucy’s head swirled with dizziness and hopelessness. Why not just lay down and prove her abandoners right?

 

“We’re here! And no sign of Loki!” Callie’s grumpy demeanor was masked with a tiny smile, but only for a little while. “Come on, Lucy, let’s move it!” She grabbed the Chiweenie’s trembling paw and dragged her up the mountain, where a comforting orange light shone from a lone cave entrance, flanked by two scarecrows with rotten pumpkin heads. “His place must be a pigsty. I knew he was out of his gourd.”

 

Lucy and Callie scampered past the scarecrows and into the brightly lit cave. Sure enough, this was the home of Ozzie the Wise, whose days of wisdom and intense thought had long abandoned him. Sitting at the table next to a glowing metal stove (the source of the gentle light), the elderly gray and white cat man tenderly ate cold turkey scraps from a plate that had seen better days. Nibble, nibble, nibble, gulp, gulp, gulp, all with teeth that smelled worse than the pumpkins outside.

 

The messiness of this home could give his dental work a run for its money. Torn blankets strewn every which way. A record player that hadn’t been dusted since the days of his youth. A sink full of dirty dishes that would have attracted flies if not for the freezing weather. A bookcase of cracked yellow paper, probably with spells written on them that couldn’t be studied with a forgetful brain. There was even a golden framed picture of Callie and Ozzie as a couple hanging on the wall, albeit at an awkward angle.

 

Ozzie peeked up from his dubious dinner and smiled at Lucy and Callie. “You look familiar.”

 

“Gee, I wonder why that could be,” said Callie with a sharp tongue. “See that picture on the wall? Any clues coming yet?”

 

“Yes…yes…it’s all coming back to me now…” Ozzie stood up and cracked his spine over the back of his chair, causing Lucy to twitch in disgust and Callie to reprimand her for it. The old man cat trudged over to his two guests with Callie looking hopeful that she might be recognized after all of these years. But instead, Ozzie ruffled Lucy’s ears and said, “My granddaughter! My precious little granddaughter.” Lucy looked confused at first, but then chuckled as Ozzie groomed her face over and over again.

 

“For Pete’s sake, Ozzie, it’s me! Callie! Your ex-wife!” protested Callie. Ozzie continued licking Lucy’s cackling face while running his claws through her fur. The tough facade had melted away when Callie sighed and tucked her head in defeat. “He’s forgotten me…Ozzie has forgotten me…”

 

“Oh no, I haven’t,” said Ozzie. “My other granddaughter! You’ve come to visit me after all these years! Come here, you!” He gave Callie tummy scratches, which earned him a swat for his troubles.

 

“I’m not your granddaughter, you old coot! I’m your wife! We shared a house together! We chased balls of yarn together! You used to cook tuna fish every night and it was delicious! Don’t you remember?” Callie’s elderly anger turned to sorrowful word salad as her voice became increasingly jittery.

 

Ozzie placed a tender paw on Callie’s shivering shoulder and said, “Now, now, now…you know I can’t marry my granddaughter. But I’ll be there at your wedding when you’re old enough.”

 

Callie held her face in her paw and rubbed the bridge of her nose. “There’s no hope. He’s gone. He’s all gone.”

 

Now that she’d established some rapport with Ozzie, Lucy suddenly found her confidence again, which was definitely helped by the warm breeze blowing on her from the metal stove. “Mr. Ozzie, I’d love to stay and eat turkey with you, but there’s something we have to warn you about. There’s an evil sorcerer coming up this mountain and he says he wants to hurt you. He’s too powerful for any of us to fight off. The best thing we can do is get you out of here and to a safe place.”

 

“A sorcerer, you say?”

 

“Yes, Mr. Ozzie. He’s someone you used to know, I mean, once knew…” Lucy let out a phew at almost appearing insensitive towards Ozzie’s forgetfulness. “He’s an old rival of yours. You were the one who defeated him in the first place. Now he wants revenge. He’s come back to life in a dog’s body and he wants to…”

 

“Old rival? Hmm…” Ozzie scratched his own chin looking for answers. “Is he another one of my grandchildren? I’d love to play some fetch with him and tell him all about my record collection. These young whippersnappers could use some good music these days.”

 

“He’s gone, Lucy,” said Callie in an uncharacteristically low voice. “He doesn’t remember me or anyone else. All that magic use turned his brain into mush. He’d be better off in retirement care instead of this disheveled cave.”

 

“Wait a minute…” pondered Lucy. “If magic use can turn your brain into mush, then Loki the Skull…”

 

“You just now figured that out?” The fire and spunk was back in Callie’s voice, her knife raised in the air, much to Lucy’s cowering terror.

 

“Put the knife away, you old bat. I’ll finish the job for you.”

 

Lucy, Callie, and Ozzie’s eyes widened at the demonic voice haunting the once warm and cozy cave. The stove’s glow was slowly dying down and the only neon flash that appeared this time came from Loki the Skull’s eyes. Bright red horror enveloped the room, followed by the poisonous green of the sorcerer’s aura. Lucy gulped as hard as she could while hugging Callie for comfort. She tried to push her off, but Lucy was too strong and it was the only strength she would exhibit for a while.

 

But then, Loki waved the war hammer like a pendulum and taunted Lucy. “Looking for this? It’s the perfect tool for smashing, let’s say…tennis balls!” He then pulled out said tennis ball, this time deflated and dirty, no longer fit for an hour of friendly roughhousing.

 

“What are you going to do, Lucy? Are you going to snuggle up and cry like a little cherub? Are you going to howl to the night moon like a lost wolf puppy? Are you going to run back into your mommy’s arms? Oh wait…that last part isn’t an option anymore.” Loki laughed at his own callous joke.

Ghost Story

I ate a can of spam and my heart went kerplunk

I hit the wooden floor with a heavy ass thunk

Final seconds of my life I saw my greatest hits

From a baby in a diaper to a corpse taking shits

The Rainbow Bridge had burst into flames

The ghosts of my pets with their human names

Possessed my dead body, turned me into a puppet

Now we’re going to have fun, because, fuck it

Kitties and doggies were my necromantic fuel

Now it’s time to get vengeance on a world so cruel

Visit puppy mills and set the little duppies free

Chew the breeders’ brains for all eternity

Visit every dog fighting circuit in the underground

Come on, tough guy, fight with me for five rounds

You might get away with an uppercut or two

But I clamp my broken teeth and start to chew

An abuser’s flesh tastes like T-bone steak

Drink a flood of blood the size of a lake

Rince and repeat until the bones are picked clean

A birthday buffet for the zombified fiend

The Rainbow Bridge is supplied with fresh souls

Every abuser’s death turns the flames ice cold

Ashes of the dead replenish the plant life

From dour to flowers, phytomantic power

Colors glow brightly across the fields

The souls of furry friends can finally heal

After I enjoyed my never-ending meals

I can finally rest in peace as part of the deal

Ghosts leave my body, the maggots take over

Until there’s nothing left but formaldehyde odor

The circle of life continues after death

Every living thing is now eating like a king

Chicken Soup for the Pet Lover's Soul

BOOK TITLE: Chicken Soup for the Pet Lover’s Soul

AUTHORS: Various

YEAR: 1998

GENRE: Nonfiction

SUBGENRE: Animal Shorts

GRADE: B

This book was published in the late 90’s and over two decades later, it has come into my life to comfort me with cute and cuddly animal stories. We all need stories like these during the 2020’s. We need to hear about German Shepherds who not only detect bombs in a war zone, but also comfort the soldiers during times of stress. We crave stories about dogs who repay a doctor’s kindness by protecting him from angry hyenas. Even those who never considered owning a python for a pet will have their hearts melted at the story of one bringing love and joy to a child with muscular dystrophy. Animals of all kinds are welcome into this collection of stories as long as they warm hearts quicker than a bowl of chicken noodle soup. The book should get an A+ just for that alone.

But the reason it gets a B today is because some of these stories have not aged well, which is an unfortunate consequence of publishing media in the 1990’s. There’s a story that glorifies selling baby horses to the circus, which as we know now is not a healthy environment for any animal due to their abusive treatment. Okay, maybe information was limited back then. There’s another story that glorifies pet shops, which we now know where they get their animals from: mills. Again, maybe not a whole lot was known about pet shop practices back in the day. However, there’s one story told by Gilda Radner about her on and off again relationship with Gene Wilder. In response to Gene finally pulling the plug on their relationship, Gilda’s dog eats a bunch of rat poison and suddenly Gene is convinced to return to a marriage he never wanted. This is passed off as cutesy-wutesy, but if this happened in a Jamie McGuire or Anna Todd novel, people would rightfully be upset. The optics aren’t very good here, but it’s not enough for me to judge the book too harshly.

And then there are stories dedicated to saying goodbye to our beloved babies which are heartbreaking in their own way, but the optics are much better by comparison. This is the good kind of pain, where your faith in owning animals is restored despite the deaths. While the writing style of these stories overall could be described as beige prose, they are very effective in making the reader cry as painfully as the characters being presented. I came very close to doing that several times in this section of the book. It can’t all be rainbows and sunshine, even in a book with Chicken Soup in the title. Death is the price of love. It’s something all pet owners will have to come to grips with. These gentle stories will gladly help you along your journey through a difficult time. See? I told you I couldn’t judge the book too harshly.

One more thing I’d like to touch on is how these stories feel complete despite their brevity. Usually with nonfiction writing, anecdotal storytelling is the norm. But in these stories, you’ve got character development, a plot arc, a beginning, a middle, and an end. One example of this is a story about a bitter wheelchair user named Corey, who was permanently paralyzed after a brutal car accident, which left him without a baseball career. But he found new life again when he sought the comfort of animals. In that short space, he went from a whiny jerk to an understanding and empathetic person with a new lease on life. Corey’s story isn’t the only one that does this. There’s another about a grumpy father who becomes less grumpy at the presence of an old dog. This even encourages him to make new friends at church and fully realize his character arc. How cool is that?

There’s something for everybody in this collection of short stories, despite the glaring flaws. Maybe you’re reluctant about adopting a pet and need some convincing. I’m sure this book will do just that for you. Maybe you need to rest easy after an animal-related hardship. Guess what? This book is here for you. Don’t even worry about the Christian overtones if you’re not religious; it doesn’t come off as forceful or heavy-handed. By all means, cuddle up with your favorite creature and read until it’s over. I give this collection of sweetness a B grade. Not bad at all! In fact, you’ll love it to pieces!

A Brief History of Rainbow Ranch

They didn’t have a name for this lonely island, because there was no they to begin with. Not a sign of human life. Not a shred of biodiversity. Not a liter of clean water for miles. It was a perfect place, though a little too perfect, for soulless cowards to dump their unwanted furry friends. Dogs with saggy jowls. Cats with pretty torbie colors and velvety fur. Rabbits with indiscriminate amounts of love to give in such tiny bodies. Rats with all the stigma, yet none of the villainy to justify being abandoned by the heartless. This nameless island was their new home, though it could never feel like home to anyone. If the animals didn’t eat each other in their feral states, they were forever erased from the gene pool, never to be seen, never to be loved by tender hands again. This cruelty went on for years…

Until a pair of king brothers found out what was going on and allowed the information to boil their blood. The Gaines brothers, Harrison and James, got off their sofa thrones and rolled their mobile castle away from their comfortable lands, finding their new home in this desolate strip of earth. They saw firsthand how hopeless these beautiful creatures looked, their ribs visible, their fur matted and torn, the joy in their eyes scrubbed clean from their handsome features. Under the rule of the Gaines brothers, no more would they suffer. With an army of loyal soldiers under the Kingdom’s command, every animal that could be found was rounded up and nurtured back to full health.

The carnivorous creatures were treated to plump sausages and juicy steaks, while the vegetarians were given fresh, crisp lettuce and crunchy carrots. During this mass rehabilitation process, the gardeners of the Gaines Kingdom went to work planting seeds all over the island, giving way to the tallest trees, the softest green grass, the loveliest red and purple flowers, the tastiest vegetables, and enough clean water to sustain the ecosystem. The healing wasn’t an overnight success. Some animals and plants didn’t make it. But those that did lived long and happy lives under the brothers’ care. The nameless island was no longer a death sentence for abandoned pets. It was a paradise not surprisingly renamed to Rainbow Ranch, a heaven on earth to live comfortably with the fastest tail wags and the loudest purrs.

But despite what the new name suggests, it wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows for Harrison Gaines. While everyone seemed to move on with their lives, seeing all that suffering for the first few months took its toll on him. He was the less logical of the two brothers, giving into his rawest emotions and nightmarish insanity. It wasn’t enough that these animals got their revenge by living well. He wanted everlasting revenge on the ones who made them suffer in the first place. But with no names and no faces to place on the heartless former pet owners, the gulf between Harrison’s vengeful goals and his ability to act on them grew wider as his insanity began to take over. That is, until he finally had a plan.

While James Gaines was the fighter of the two, Harrison dabbled in magic, especially of the dark and occult variety. Nobody could possibly tell him where the abusive owners were…except the animals themselves. Behind his brother’s back, he began experimenting on the surviving animals to give them human features. And with these human features, they would learn to speak real words. But when asked about their abusers, the anthropomorphized animals didn’t share the same resentment and anger that Harrison did. They just wanted to live normal lives and use their now human features to build communities instead of tearing other ones down. James ultimately agreed with this notion. Harrison, not so much.

The insanity started to take an even harder toll on him. He’d spend his nights waking up from terrifying visions. He’d have conversations with ghosts who weren’t there. He’d lash out at anybody who disagreed with him. When James had to put his foot down and do something about his brother’s erratic behavior, Harrison fled and his anthropomorphic creations tried to track him down now that some of them had become soldiers and wizards themselves. Harrison’s escape led him to the highest snow-covered mountain in Rainbow Ranch, where he finally met his wizardly match: an elderly gray and white cat named Ozzie the Wise.

Ozzie tried to talk him down, tried to talk some sense into him, but Harrison’s erratic mind wouldn’t allow him to listen to reason. Ozzie was wise indeed, but even his problem-solving skills couldn’t crack the puzzle that was Harrison’s melting brain. The two of them faced off in a battle of magical energy. Harrison appeared to be getting the upper hand until Ozzie finally struck him down with a lightning bolt, causing him to roll down the mountainside and into a snowy grave. His body took days to find underneath all of that snow and Ozzie was cleared of all charges by the remaining king on account of self-defense. Harrison’s tragic tale had finally come to an end.

James couldn’t find it in his heart to bury his brother in an ordinary cemetery, so he expedited the corpse to the funeral home of an old friend, a skeletal necromancer named Razor Ripley. Despite the intimidating name, Ripley had a fondness for the animal kingdom and respect for the dead. Harrison’s body would be well taken care of under his watch and the watch of his non-humanoid Labrador Loki. This would leave James plenty of time to grieve for his fallen brother while his subjects tended to the operations of Rainbow Ranch.

This would seem like an apt place to end the story. The history of Rainbow Ranch had been written and the future seemed brighter than the wave of color in the island’s new name. Harrison would be sorely missed despite his odd behavior and penchant for revenge. He was a brother first and foremost whose heart was always in the right place. But for anyone who dearly missed him…he wouldn’t stay gone forever. It all began with a nice long psychic conversation between the disgraced King Harrison Gaines…and the soon to be anointed Loki the Skull. The phrase, “I’ll rest when I’m dead” can only be valid…if the subject is dead in the first place.

Hollow Hills Presents: Raining Cats and Dogs

 

Raining Cats and Dogs is a collection of fantasy short stories and poetry that feature an animal as a main character. Stories may be dark and full of strife but a happy ending is always in sight! Lovers of pets or animals in general will enjoy these fantasy tales.

All proceeds for this anthology will benefit Good Old Tails Senior Animal Rescue based in Hanover, PA, USA. This non-profit helps save the lives of older pets by finding them homes.

Philosophy

 Let me ask you a philosophical question…

If I write a thousand stories and nobody cares

Do they suddenly vanish into nothing but air?

If I fall in love and leave everyone disgusted

Can any of my feelings really be so trusted?

If I make money delivering another cook’s meal

Are they the ones who deserve all of the zeal?

If I pet a thousand cats and make them purr

Does worldwide harmony suddenly occur?

If I feed a thousand hamburgers to hungry dogs

Will anybody hear their little howling songs?

If I have a thousand dreams underneath the sheets

Will I wake up just to taste lifelong defeat?

If I get a thousand likes on this picture of me

Is it true beauty that the public wants to see?

If everybody tells me that I should shoot my shot

Will I hit the target every time? Probably not

Success is more heavenly than the pearly gates

So why is it that I continue to sit around and wait?

Because taking action has a lethal consequence

High risk, high reward, no sitting on the fence

Failure is inevitable, but it shouldn’t be deadly

A safety net is what the gods should send me

But no universal space god watches my back

One big mistake, my whole world goes black

Playing it safe is considered mediocrity

I’m just living my life at a snail’s velocity

Let me ask another philosophical question

If a shooting star falls, does it even get a mention?

The Secret Life of Pets 2

MOVIE TITLE: The Secret Life of Pets 2

DIRECTOR: Chris Renaud

YEAR: 2019

GENRE: 3D Animated Comedy

RATING: PG for comic mischief

GRADE: Pass

A Jack Russell Terrier named Max is having difficulty with being stressed out and easily fearful, especially when his owner has a baby named Liam and the whole family takes a trip to a chaotic farm. A superhero rabbit named Snowball has been charged with the task of rescuing a white tiger named Hu from a sadistic circus owner. While Max is away on vacation, his Pomeranian girlfriend Gidget is tasked with taking care of his favorite squeaky bumblebee toy only for it to wind up in a crazy cat lady’s apartment. These three stories converge near the end and the animals find that they’re willing to do extraordinary things to achieve their individual goals.

Cuteness aside, the guy who put together this movie definitely has experience with animal quirks and it shows in the most obvious ways. Cats chasing after laser pens, dogs acting paranoid when things get too stressful, animals in general defecating in places where the owners will least suspect it, cats knocking things over haphazardly, the list goes on and on. I can confirm all of these things and more since I too am an avid animal lover. Realism will always earn points with the audience, especially if there’s humor attached to it. You don’t have to hee-haw at every scene to think it’s funny. You could be laughing on the inside and walking out of the movie theater with happiness in your heart. Isn’t that what animal movies are all about?

Every story and subplot in this movie was well-executed, but my favorite in terms of character development has to be Max and his journey to overcome the fear of everything. In this respect, he really has no choice since he vacations on a farm with animals who don’t respect him and eventually crosses paths with Sergei, the cruel and vicious circus owner. Courage isn’t the absence of fear, but the action taken in spite of fear. We already know that Snowball the superhero bunny will voluntarily throw himself into danger for the good of the group. Gidget’s fear of being around that many cats dissipates rather quickly. But for Max, it’s a journey that spans the entire movie. Will he face things head on or will he continue itching at something that isn’t there? If not for himself, then he has extra motivation when doing it for baby Liam and his parents.

And now here comes the downer of this review. At the time that I’m writing this, my elderly cat Emilio is slowly but surely passing away due to failing kidneys and a subsequent loss of appetite. Throughout his final days, I’ve been finding solace not only in my creative activities (which includes this review), but also watching The Secret Life of Pets 2. In other words, this movie was literally therapy for me. It reminded me that I did everything I could to save Emilio’s life and when his time eventually comes, he can cross the Rainbow Bridge a happy kitty. He was fourteen years old, but I’ve only owned him for the past six months. Rest well, baby Emilio. You’ll always be my baby despite your advanced age.

If you’re looking for a feel-good movie with plenty of cuteness and humor, you’ll get a lot of satisfaction out of The Secret Life of Pets 2. Even if you haven’t seen the first movie, you’ll still get enjoyment out of the sequel and you won’t be confused by the plot. Based on the success of the sequel, I plan on watching the first movie on Netflix when I get the chance. How does a passing grade sound to you guys?

"Familiars" by Fred Chappell

BOOK TITLE: Familiars

AUTHOR: Fred Chappell

YEAR: 2014

GENRE: Poetry

SUBGENRE: Cats

GRADE: Mixed

Prior to reading this lovely collection of kitty poetry, I (tried to) read another book by Fred Chappell, a novel called A Shadow All of Light. I had to DNF it because the purple prose and archaic vocabulary slowed the reading pace down. Luckily, I was able to complete Familiars all the way through despite it also using flowery descriptions that left me confused. Most of the time, these descriptions worked to the poems’ benefit. Who wouldn’t want to see kitties with their tails curled prettily around them? Who wouldn’t want to see precious fluff balls snuggling up with their elderly masters? Who wouldn’t want to hear about cats going on neighborhood adventures in search of mice to hunt or other kitties to play with? You’ll get all of that and more in this book. The one poem that really got my attention was the one about the old man who wanted to bag up his cats and throw them in the river. He was so cranky and coldhearted that it was a relief to see that he was the one who got tossed in the river instead of the precious fur babies. Truth is, there isn’t a bad poem in this book as long as you have some semblance of understanding of the oftentimes flowery language. A lot of it flew over my head and that’s why I’m giving this book a mixed grade instead of a passing one. Despite the glaring flaws, I enjoyed the book for what it was. The cats were presented as deities and divas, so that’s always a plus. I feel the same way about my own cat Emilio, who sleeps comfortably on my soft warm beddy-bye. Aww!

"Wrestling, Issue Three" by What Culture

BOOK TITLE: Wrestling, Issue Three

AUTHORS: What Culture Staff

YEAR: 2017

GENRE: Nonfiction

SUBGENRE: Wrestling Bookazine

GRADE: Mixed

Ah yes, the third edition of What Culture’s Wrestling magazine, complete with a list of one hundred greatest wrestlers of all time, Adam Blampied’s creative take on how to do the anonymous Raw General Manager angle, an article on the hyperbolic WWE videogame All-Stars…and also…typos. Lots and lots of typos. It appears the second verse is the same as the first when it comes to these What Culture magazines and their typos: they’re so frequent that it’s hard to give them passing grades. Some readers can easily forgive these typos. I can be forgiving from time to time, but not when they happen so often that it’s painfully obvious. Please, What Culture, find a fresh pair of eyes to read over your material before publishing it.

And while we’re at it with the negative aspects of the magazine, I could have done without a certain interview question for ring attendant SoCal Val. Yes, the questions are supposed to be wild and crazy fun and not to be taken too seriously, I get that. But when the interviewer asked, “If you could punch any animal, what would it be?”, my heart just sank. The answer wasn’t any better; SoCal Val said she would gladly punch cats because they’re “entitled and lazy”. Even as I type this, I’m visualizing an ASPCA commercial with Sarah McLaughlin’s music playing in the background. Why would this question even be considered comical or silly? It’s neither. It’s psychotic.

But even with these glaring flaws, this magazine is actually fun to read in hindsight. I particularly enjoyed Stephanie McMahon’s Crimes Against Wrestling because it’s brutally honest when talking about someone like her who hates criticism. In short, Stephanie took up too much screen time on WWE television, condescended to wrestlers more deserving of the spotlight than her, and didn’t get any comeuppance for her sins. This isn’t just annoying villain work; it’s downright disgusting. This article was so well-written and so fleshed-out that I’m legitimately hoping Stephanie McMahon reads it and gets something out of it. She won’t, but I’m still holding out hope. Kudos to the author for calling her out like that. We need more of that in our wrestling literature.

Another article I enjoyed was the one that extensively talked about the art of blading, or drawing blood in a safe and believable way in a wrestling match. When done correctly, it can enhance the drama of any match and make the wrestlers look like a million books. When done stupidly and excessively, it can shorten careers and numb the audience. As a wrestling fan growing up in the 1990’s and 2000’s, I loved ECW and their ultra-violent matches where disqualifications didn’t apply. As an adult reading this article, I have a new perspective as to why such bloody wrestling isn’t sustainable. The litany of injuries caused by excessive blood loss was one of the many factors that led to ECW’s permanent closure in 2001. This article on blading was educational and fascinating at the same time. You learn something new every day. I know I did.

Just like Issues One and Two before it, Issue Three of What Culture’s Wrestling magazine can actually be an enjoyable read if you’re willing to overlook the typos. As an author myself, I try my best to avoid typos as often as possible and it gets to a point where even I need an unbiased editor to look at my writing for me. All in all, typos are easy to fix and I hope What Culture can learn something from this experience. A mixed grade will go to this fun, but flawed reading adventure.

Old Animals

***OLD ANIMALS***

With winter rapidly approaching, it’s important for animals to have a nice warm place to call home so that they don’t freeze their little tootsies off. Pet shelters always have a large influx of animals coming in that have either been surrendered by a previous owner or living on the streets. Everyone needs a furry friend to give them comfort and love during these chilly times. When you eventually do adopt an animal (adopt, don’t shop), please consider taking in an elderly critter that has probably been at the shelter for a long time.

I know the most common argument against adopting an older animal is that they don’t live long and the new owner’s heart will break easily when the little guy passes. But that’s precisely why these animals need a new place to live: their final years on earth should be happy ones instead of lonely ones. Lots of pettings, lots of naps, and lots of love: that’s what elderly animals need, not loneliness.

Another common argument against adopting senior animals is that they could potentially be hard to take care of due to medical problems or messy behavior. That couldn’t be further from the truth. Most elderly animals just want to lie around and rest their aching bones, so you don’t have to worry about them playing with things they shouldn’t be playing with. As far as medical bills go, that’s a constant no matter what age the animal is. Younger cats have to be fixed so that they don’t reproduce easily. Some of them are so young that they’re not housetrained yet. Housetraining can be a long and arduous process, but you don’t have to worry about that with an experienced cat or dog.

That’s not to say that young animals don’t deserve love, because they certainly do. Animals of all age groups need a warm home to call their own. The point of this blog entry is to not turn away older animals so easily because of the stigmas against them. A furry friend is a furry friend no matter how far into their twilight years they are.

What some of those old doggies would do for a puppiccino right now. A puppiccino is basically just a Starbucks cup filled with whipped cream and nothing more. Dogs loved whipped cream! You know what else they love? Plain double cheeseburgers from McDonald’s without the bun. I once read a nonfiction book about a library cat named Dewey who used to eat Arby’s cheddar roasts during his senior years. These are just small examples of what an elderly animal’s final years could look like if they lived in a happy home. Knowing you gave happy moments to an old animal will ease some of the pain of loss when their time eventually comes. It will still hurt like hell, but love conquers all in the end. So do fond memories.

To use an example from my own life, I currently have an elderly brown kitty named Smokey who spends most of her time napping on my bed. She’s the laziest animal we have, but also the most relaxed and peaceful. Cats don’t get to be nineteen years old by being stressed out all the time. It’s hard for Smokey to feel stressed when she’s getting pettings, love, and Temptations kitty treats on a daily basis. I love the sound of her purring in my ear when I lay next to her. She’s a sweet and dear kitty who brings me happiness every day that she’s alive. When her time comes to cross the Rainbow Bridge, I’ll miss her dearly, but I’ll also be grateful for every memory she’s given me.

Elderly animals need love just as much as their young counterparts. They’re every bit as sweet and snuggly, every bit as cute and cuddly, and a proud and loyal member of your family. Adopting a senior kitty or puppy will be a decision you’ll never regret. You could have your very own Smokey-Pokey for the price of an adoption fee. We’ve got ears, say cheers!

***THE CAT WHO ROBBED A BANK***

Speaking of sweet and cuddly animals, the next book I’m going to read and review is another classic from Lilian Jackson Braun’s “Cat Who” series. If I can be honest for a moment, before I started working with Marie Krepps, I’ve been blind to the fact that Ms. Braun does more telling than showing in her novels. There have been times when I considered giving one of her books a mixed grade (three stars). But then the grade improves when I realize how relaxing and laidback reading her books can be, especially on a rainy day like today. According to Good Reads’ math, I’m 20% finished with the book and it’s a light read, so I’ll probably be done with it sooner rather than later.

***POISON TONGUE TALES 2: THE RIGHT TO REMAIN PSYCHOTIC***

I’ll tell you what’s not sweet and cuddly: hardcore violence with a dark fantasy backdrop. That’s what you’re going to get with the second to last story to be written for this series: “King of Elves and Trees”. It goes like this:

CHARACTERS:

1.      Saito Kabaka, Elf Samurai

2.      Tifa Croft, Elf Assassin

3.      Rudiger Seran, Giant Lumberjack

PROMPT CONFORMITY: To be announced.

SYNOPSIS: Rudiger and his team of lumberjacks have been independently contracted to cut down trees in The Black Forest. To protect their forest home, Saito and Tifa slaughter lumberjacks left and right, but meet their biggest challenge when the eight-foot tall Rudiger swings his oversized axe like a madman. The battle becomes even fiercer when Rudiger’s axe ignites into magical fire.

FUN FACT: The title of this story is a lyric from the Within Temptation song “In Perfect Harmony”, though the story itself is nowhere near as peaceful as the song.

***DARK FANTASY WARRIORS***

Because there’s a new story on the horizon, there are going to be some new drawings as well. There won’t be one of Rudiger Seran, because I already drew a picture of him back in 2014 when he was originally a character from my now defunct first draft novel “Fireball Nightmare”. He’s the one who looks like the Big Show from WWE with a chain mail singlet and a big ass battleaxe. He’s also one of the grayscale characters I drew before I purchased colored pencils from Amazon in February 2016. With Rudiger stricken from the list, that just leaves Tifa Croft (guess how I got that name) and Saito Kabaka. I believe I’ll draw Saito first and then Tifa. Sound good?

***WRESTLING DIALOGUE OF THE DAY***

JOHN CENA: You came out here with your fly unzipped.

ROMAN REIGNS: I busted it open. I’m the Big Dog.

JOHN CENA: Actually, I was looking to see where your balls were, but you don’t have any.

ROMAN REIGNS: Yeah, you would look for those.

"Monstress, Vol. 1: Awakening" by Marjorie Liu

BOOK TITLE: Monstress, Vol. 1: Awakening

AUTHOR: Marjorie Liu

YEAR: 2016

GENRE: Graphic Novel

SUBGENRE: Dark Fantasy

GRADE: Mixed

In a world consumed by a bigoted war between humans and Arcanics, monsters are treated as second class citizens and are often beaten and enslaved so that witch cults can harvest their powers. Maika Halfwolf is one of those monsters. She gets herself intentionally captured so that she can begin her quest for knowledge as to who her parents are, why she is the way she is, and how she can tame the demon inside of her that devours everything it touches. With a talking cat and a fox girl by her side, she is in constant fear of the demon coming out and killing both of them. And yet, they remain loyal throughout all of the attacks and captures from various witch cults.

If for some reason that opening synopsis sounds a little off, don’t worry, you’re not alone in feeling befuddled. I too was confused by the happenings of this graphic novel. I kept trying to piece together which magician belonged to which alliance. I kept wondering about the terminology. I kept wondering why magicians were attacking members of their own cliques (at least I think they’re part of their own clique, I’m still not sure). For some reason I kept spacing out during the cat lectures in between chapters. The fact that I was able to put together at least SOME of the pieces was nothing short of a miracle. It made me question whether or not I had to read other source material in order to understand this fictional world, but this is the first volume of the Monstress series, so I guess not. Maybe if someone explains it to me in depth, then I can get a better grasp of what’s going on here.

On the bright side, the cats were cuter than a bug’s ear. Yes, they’re intended to be taken seriously by the characters in the story, but that won’t stop me from rubbing their bellies and feeding them Temptations. During one of the cat lectures, there’s a little kitty rolling around on his back playing with a slave collar’s chain. Torturous device aside, that’s still a cute image. I also liked the image of the cat teacher making chocolate-covered mice with the rest of her class. As a lover of animals, it was refreshing to see that these cats weren’t being abused in some way, dark fantasy canon aside. There could have easily been a time where a soldier kicked a cat or flung it against a tree, but that didn’t happen. Thank god good taste prevailed!

Of course, dark fantasy cannot work without delicious violence and this graphic novel has that in spades. Whether it’s Maika’s demon gnawing on living flesh or a cat with two swords slicing and dicing his way to victory, feel free to drink it all in. I especially like the part where Maika slams a prison cell door against a corpulent, torture-loving guard. The guard deserved it almost as much as Captain Byron Hadley from The Shawshank Redemption deserved to be dragged out in cuffs. Maybe those two should get married and go on a honeymoon to Guantanamo Bay. Lots of blood, lots of broken bones, lots of madness, lots of everything! It’s not really fair to call this gornography, whether you’re confused by the storyline or not, but you can get your fill of violence and dirty language easily from a text like this.

If it wasn’t for the muddling storyline and the many pieces that don’t seem to fit, I would have given this graphic novel a passing grade. There have been times I’ve considered doing that anyways because the demonic presence inside Maika Halfwolf reminds me of my own schizophrenia. I love a good story that I can relate to in some way, which sounds like a weird thing to say about a blood-stained dark fantasy book, but that’s the thing about fantasy: it’s just as reflective of our society as modern day drama. But alas, I had an easier time understanding The Matrix than I did this graphic novel. A mixed grade is what Monstress has earned.

Divas

Piper gazed at the butterfly-decorated Divas Championship belt in her paws with a sense of pride and joy. Holding this title was a dream of hers ever since she was a kitten. In her mind, dreams always came true and could never be taken away by oppressive forces. Her naivety was a source of sweetness for her adoring kitty fans as evidenced by the way they meowed and purred at her entrance. She did it all for them and she was determined not to let them down this evening during her title defense. With her black tank top, pink leather pants, and white boots snug against her white furry kitty body, she was ready to go. She kissed her Divas Championship belt for good luck before her music hit.

The arena darkened as the piano intro of “April Rain” by Delain caused the kitties and puppies in the audience to cheer and howl for their favorite wrestler. Once the intense guitars and drums sounded, Piper danced out to the isle to an even louder chorus of cheers. She high fived her tiny fans in the front row and gave a hug to an oversized Bassett Hound near the ring. Piper leaped on the apron and over the top rope with such athletic grace before prancing around the ring and parading her hard-earned championship. She even high-fived the Springer Spaniel ring announcer and hugged Willem the schipperke referee. Piper was certain this feel-good moment would last forever and showed it on her cute kitty face with a squinty-eyed smile.

And then the slow and sensual blue-eyed soul music of “Son of a Preacher Man” by Dusty Springfield echoed throughout the arena. The older dogs in the audience howled with lust while the tiny kittens booed their heads off. Coming out to the stage were three cats dressed in royal pink robes and little diamond-encrusted tiaras. Posing on the left side of the stage was the calico runt of the litter, Calypso. Posing on the right with her claws extended like a Marvel superhero was the fierce black and white Stitches. In the middle was the arrogantly strutting queen of the divas, Tori. Together this group was known as the Supermodel Kitties.

None of the boos in the arena could compare to Piper’s fiery stare down the ramp as the Supermodel Kitties pompously danced their way to the ring. For weeks leading up to this match, they called her “Piper-Diaper” and Photoshopped pictures of her in baby outfits. A tear formed in her eye at these traumatic thoughts and Calypso was sharp enough to catch it. She got up on the apron and flailed her paws next to her ears while sticking her tongue out at Piper.

The proud Divas Champion shouted, “Why, you!” before dashing to the opposite side the ring to deliver a drop kick. Calypso pulled the top rope down at the last minute and Piper crashed and burned on the concrete floor below. Calypso stayed on the apron and continued her nee-ner-nee-ner taunts while Tori and Stitches were scratching and biting the hell out of their victim. Willem barked and growled his warnings at a rapid fire pace, but the Supermodel Kitties refused to listen and resumed their taunting and beating of Piper.

Willem hopped over the top rope and did his best hyper barking while chasing the Supermodel Kitties to the other side of the ring. He gave a few more commanding barks at the now shaking cats before running back over to Piper and licking her wounds with his sloppy dog tongue. Willem spent the longest time tending to the cat’s wounds and she still wouldn’t wake up. It seemed as though the schipperke had no choice but to bark for paramedics on the ramp way.

The proud Supermodel Kitties wrapped their arms around each other’s necks and danced up and down chanting, “Piper-Diaper!” much to the dismay of the booing crowd. Calypso even had an animal diaper in her paws to illustrate such humiliation.

This charade would have lasted the rest of the night if it wasn’t for Piper nipping up to her feat and letting out a dreaded hiss. The Supermodel Kitties watched on with wide-eyed shock as Tori’s opponent leaped back into the ring and made a “come here” gesture with her paws. “You want some of this?!” Piper shouted. “Come and get it, you skanky hoes!”

A resounding “Ooo!” echoed throughout the arena while the stunned Supermodel Kitties’ jaws were on the floor. Cat wrestling was considered to be family entertainment, but Piper didn’t give a damn about her language at that point. She also waved off Willem when he tried licking her wounds again. With Calypso and Stitches slowly taking opposite sides of the ring, Tori was also in no hurry to get inside. But once she was, the ring announcer ran away without doing his job knowing how fierce this battle would be.

Willem barked five times at the ringside timekeeper, who rung the bell to signify the beginning of the match. Piper and Tori ran to the center of the ring and threw the sharpest claws they could at each other. Their violent hisses and howls added enough drama to this match to get the crowd to rise to their feet and cheer. The crowd really got going when Piper leaped in the air, wrapped her legs around Tori’s neck, and flipped the Supermodel Kitty on her back. Tori nipped up and got thrown by her arm across the ring for her troubles. This sequence of getting up and getting tossed continued for Tori until Piper applied a shoulder lock to her and kept the obnoxious brat grounded and howling.

It looked like Tori was going to slam her paws to the mat to signal a tap-out victory. And then Calypso got on the ring apron and mockingly cried at Piper. “Boohoo, I’m a big baby and I like to suck on pacifiers!” While Willem was rattling off his super-quick barks at the runty calico, Stitches reached through the ropes and swatted her knife-like claws into Piper’s butt. The champion howled in pain and jumped high in the air while holding her backside.

Calypso got down from the apron while Tori hopped to her feet and body slammed Piper to the mat. While the champ was down, Tori leaped off the middle rope and back flipped chest first into Piper, driving the air from the dreamer kitty’s already exhausted lungs. Tori then wrapped her arm around the champ’s chin and held her face in front of Calypso and Stitches for further humiliation.

The tiny calico pulled out a smart phone and recorded a video of Piper’s contorted face in what would be known as The Huh Challenge. Calypso mockingly said, “My name is Piper and I cry myself to sleep every night like a big fat baby! HUH?!”

Stitches giggled while taking the phone from Calypso and doing her own Huh Challenge. “My name is Piper and my favorite thing to eat is whatever’s in the litter box! HUH?!” The two outside kitties high-fived each other and giggled some more at Piper’s expense.

Meanwhile, a single tear dropped from Piper’s eye as she gritted her fangs and tightened her claws. This was the BS she had to put up with on live television for weeks now. She growled at the thought of her opponents acting like middle school children instead of legitimate wrestlers. She growled even harder when the audience tried to cheer her back into this match. Piper needed this victory. She needed to show that dreams always come true no matter how high the odds were stacked.

Piper slithered underneath the chin lock, grabbed Tori around her waist, and threw her backwards on her neck. The Supermodel Kitty flopped around like a fish as she was thrown backwards again. And again. And again. Calypso and Stitches weren’t even paying attention to the action going on in the ring as they were too busy taking selfies. Piper glared like a hungry tiger at them as she bounced off the ropes and flew over the top turnbuckle. She landed perfectly on Stitches and ripped her apart with her claws like a Christmas present while Calypso watched on in wide-eyed, shaky-bodied horror.

Piper turned her fiery glare to Calypso and gave her a leonine howl and an ophidian hiss. The champion chased the Supermodel Kitty around the ring multiple times. She didn’t care about the exhaustion in her body from the main event match. She was sucking down air like a whirlwind as she saw nothing but red when she gazed upon Calypso. The calico brat was getting tuckered out herself, so she slid underneath the bottom rope and drew the ire of Willem, who trapped her in the corner and gave off more rapid fire barks.

The champ slid underneath the bottom rope as well, and this time she was sure to dine upon Calypso’s pencil neck. She could already taste the blood like a shark swirling its prey. Even though Piper didn’t have as many teeth as a shark, she would make every vampire bite feel like a bloodlust chainsaw attack anyways.

And that was when she felt something sharp jam into the back of her neck. The intense pain and black vision suggested Tori used a foreign object to get the upper hand behind the schipperke’s back. Once Calypso dived out of the ring and curled in a corner, Tori finished the job with a high-impact kick underneath Piper’s chin, knocking her out just long enough to be pinned for three seconds.

Willem tapped the mat three times and the match was over. Piper’s championship reign, just like her vision, had faded away with quickness. The only dream she would be living was the one in her subconscious theater, which only played horror movies that day. When her eyes slowly opened, her bruised and battered body made her feel like road kill. The unending pain was just as emotional when she awakened to find an animal diaper fastened to her crotch. The Supermodel Kitties danced around on the ramp, celebrating with the title and mocking Piper with more nee-ner-nee-ner taunts.

The never-ending tears in Piper’s eyes caused her vision to fade to black once more. She didn’t remember being helped to the doctor’s office. She didn’t remember the stitches she would require. Her emotions were robotic as she tried to process being humiliated by the Supermodel Kitties. She stared into space not wanting to think about the future or how her diapered sorrow was broadcast not only for the television audience, but also the internet troglodytes.

The more she stared into those white walls, the less of a choice she had in what to think about. She tried to shove it down. She tried to hold back the tears. But the tears kept rolling down like whitewater rapids. Her depressed howling couldn’t be helped. Her childhood dream was shattered like a pot of dead roses. Piper had the innocence of a child for most of her life. Now she made the roughest of transitions into adulthood and realized that nightmares were the norm in this world. The tears poured like an avalanche of cold emotions as she laid there all alone in the doctor’s office. With such a humiliating defeat, she was more than just physically alone in this world.

But if her childhood innocence taught her anything, it was not to cry because it was over. It was to smile because it happened. She loved that butterfly-decorated championship. It gave her some warm memories of being adored by the crowd. All the hugs, high-fives, and cheers helped to dry her ultra-wet, ultra-red eyeballs. They were the only things that got her through the hard training and violent matches. And now that Piper was contractually obligated to a rematch, she couldn’t let those beautiful fans down twice.

As she wiped the last of her tears from her furry face, Piper reached her paw over and picked up a scalpel from the bench. Tori cheated by using a sharp object similar to this one, so why shouldn’t Piper do the same when she wanted to win her Divas Championship back? But what would her fans think of her if she did such a thing? Would they ostracize her if she sunk to the Supermodel Kitties’ level?

In that doctor’s office, Piper had a decision to make. What was more important to her: the belt and all the money that came with it, or the fans that energized her every night and stayed loyal until the end? She had a long night of thinking ahead of her, but one thing was for certain her mind: “Those bitches are going to pay!”

Unrequited Love Stereotype, or "That Guy"

***UNREQUITED LOVE STEREOTYPE, OR “THAT GUY”***

In all my time of surfing the internet, I never knew the Urban Dictionary could actually be educational on some occasions. I thought it was just a safe haven for swear words and sex terms like “See You Next Tuesday”, or the clearly made-up “Quaker Cum Meal” (if you don’t know what that is, I’m not going to tell you). The other day when I surfed the Urban Dictionary, I typed in the words “Unrequited Love” and the results were mildly depressing. It’s basically when you love someone (or have a crush on them) and they don’t love you back (either because they don’t know you or don’t give a damn). Every celebrity crush in the world is an example of unrequited love. Every damn one.

When I was going to Western Washington University from 2007 to 2009, my source of unrequited love was Tarja Turunen, the former lead singer from Nightwish. I set the bar pretty high for myself and was let down when my stubby arms couldn’t reach it. So naturally I assumed every local crush was just as high on the bar as well. I wrote tons of essays and poems dedicating my love to this opera metal diva, but I tiptoed around the language used to write them because I didn’t want to be...that guy. I didn’t want to be the stereotypical 300 pounder with a Princess Leia poster on my wall, a Tifa Lockhart photo for a desktop screen, and a sorrowful attitude towards romance. I tried hard not to be an embarrassing version of…that guy. So I kept it all on the inside most of the time.

You know what happens to people who are…that guy, right? Well, the minute they bear their feelings to the world, some yo-yo will sit them down, pat them condescendingly on the shoulder, and give them a familiar speech we’ve all grown tired of. “You know, Garrison…Japan had an earthquake, Haiti had an earthquake, there’s mass starvation in Africa, there’re wars going on in Afghanistan and Iraq…and you’re crying over chicks?” Granted, some of those travesties are dated in today’s world, but you’ve heard that speech, I’m sure. Folks, not one time has anybody thought of worldwide earthquakes and immediately felt like a million bucks about their own problems. The author of “The Perks of Being a Wallflower” makes this clear in his novel (read it, damn you!).

If someone who has been labeled…that guy gets any kind of reward for his awkward and depressing behavior, it will be because of sympathy and no other reason. I didn’t want that for myself either. If I ever decide to date again, I want it to be with someone who genuinely thinks I’m a cool person, not because they feel like they have to. When a girl feels like she has to, it’s not a sign of a healthy relationship. Nobody is obligated to date anybody for any reason, and that’s the way it should be, quite honestly.

Even now, I don’t talk about unrequited love these days because I’m still fighting the urge to be…that guy. I used to talk about it a lot whenever I’d blog about dreams I’ve had or music I’ve listened to. Not anymore. It got old after a while and I had successfully become…that guy. So what happens to people when they refuse to become…that guy and they still don’t have it in them to approach their love interests? They become indifferent to romance. Every once a while the urge will come back, but ultimately, indifference takes over.

If you’d like to know how hard someone has to work to not be…that guy, do me a favor. Get on your computer, smart phone, or smart TV and type in Netflix (or some other movie streaming service). In the search engine, type in the movie “Obselidia” and you’ll find out all about your precious unrequited love. I did a review on this movie once, but I didn’t give away any spoilers. Well, just for this journal, I’m going to spoil the movie for you, so if you enjoy surprises, skip this part of the blog.

George is an introverted librarian who has tasked himself with keeping an encyclopedia of all things obsolete (hence the title “Obselidia”). He even believes romance is obsolete as evidenced by the way he turns down a date from a customer at the library. He’s lonely, but doesn’t want to admit it. And then as part of his research for his encyclopedia, he meets a projectionist named Sophie, who is all bubbles and smiles when it comes to the world. The two of them go on a trip to Death Valley together and get an earful from an environmentalist who believes climate change will destroy our world sooner than later (it actually might, I’m not doubting him).

George is ready to include the whole planet in his encyclopedia, but spending more and more time with Sophie brings the positivity out of him that he needed. They get back to the city and George finally musters up the courage to bring Sophie flowers and confess his love. But when he arrives at her apartment, some guy in the background says, “Who is it, sweetie?” George barricades himself in his own home and refuses to answer Sophie’s pleading messages on his machine. In this one moment of unrequited love, Sophie has managed to squeeze George’s eyeballs dry of tears like she was making the most sorrowful pitcher of orange juice.

Unrequited love is basically a catch 22. If you don’t talk about it, you get hurt. If you do talk about it, you get hurt. Nobody would have blamed George if he sheltered himself forever, yet he manages to keep the positive attitude he gained from his experiences with Sophie. It makes perfect sense as a movie ending, but brain chemistry doesn’t always work like that in the real world. And that’s really all romance is: brain chemistry with an addictive reward system. When you get one kiss from a pretty girl, you want more. And when you don’t get more, you get withdrawal. And when you get withdrawal, you try your hardest not to become…that guy.

***WEEKLY SHORT STORY CONTESTS AND COMPANY***

I’ve been waiting forever for an excuse to write the following short story. Now that the prompt is “butterfly”, I’ve got to strike while the iron is hot. This story is a combination of the WWE Divas Revolution in 2015 and life with cats that I currently have or have taken care of in the past. My mom calls our cats divas all the time (because of how often they want attention), so this short story will be called “Divas”. It goes like this:

CHARACTERS:

1. Piper, Divas Champion
2. Tori, Leader of the Supermodel Kitties
3. Stitches, Enforcer for the Supermodel Kitties
4. Calypso, Rookie from the Supermodel Kitties
5. Willem, Schipperke Referee

PROMPT CONFORMITY: The Divas Championship belt has a butterfly design on it.

SYNOPSIS: In a pro-wrestling organization where the female wrestlers are humanoid cats, Piper is defending her Divas Championship against Tori at a pay-per-view main event. Piper has held the championship for over a year on the platform of making her dreams come true and being a role model for young cats. During their rivalry, the Supermodel Kitties have made Piper’s life miserable by calling her “Piper-Diaper” and other childish middle school names. With Stitches and Calypso to serve as ringside distractions, Piper could very well lose her championship to Tori and disprove the idea that all dreams come true.

***FACE BOOK POST OF THE DAY***

(Here’s an interaction I’d like to see happen on WWE Monday Night Raw.)

MICHAEL COLE: And here comes Bayley for her one-on-one match!

COREY GRAVES: Keep your hands above the table, Saxton!

BYRON SAXTON: That’s not PG.