Emilio, One Half of the Iconic Duo "Emilio & Marigold"

 

Callie the Wildfire, Ozzie's Ex-Lover from "Rainbow Ranch"

 

The Frowning Quokka

VERSE 1

A species of animal that was born to smile

Quokkas got fur and a whole lot of style

Lined up like chess pieces for their photo op

Here comes the flash bulbs and the crowd pop

Nothing could go wrong in the land of ear scratches

There’s no fine print and there are no catches

Rub their fuzzy bellies and feed them cherry pie

Laugh and have fun, ‘cause it’s a heavenly high

VERSE 2

But there’s always one who’s having a bad time

With a face sourer than a lemon and lime

Because he was different, he was made the villain

Gave seniors heart attacks, scared away the children

Nobody asked him if he was feeling alright

They assumed he was toxic like a pandemic blight

The frowning quokka had opinions of his own

But it’s hard to tell the story with a burned out tone

VERSE 3

While his smiling brethren danced on without him

He sat in the darkness playing music so grim

The tears wouldn’t come, because they’re not manly

Only the freaks could do it, they’re already uncanny

Remembering a childhood of leather belt beatings

A horny ex-wife who he divorced for cheating

A lifetime of pets that have crossed the Rainbow Bridge

Stress-eating every meal like he had an endless fridge

VERSE 4

Life is always easy when there’s someone to talk to

But instead there’s an army of strangers to mock you

“You look like you’ve got a bug stuck in your ass

You look like you’ve got a giant food baby to pass

You’ve got Small Dick Energy for years on end”

And then they wonder why you don’t want to pretend

That everything is okay in your fiery underworld

Got your finger on the trigger, never leave it uncurled

BRIDGE

Bang, bang! Now they’re going to die!

Bang, bang! And they still wonder why!

Bang, bang! Quokka genocide, bitch!

Bang, bang! Leave them all in a ditch!

Boohoo! Now there’s no turning back!

Boohoo! Put a clip in your mag!

Boohoo! Now you know what to do!

Say goodbye to a world that you never knew!

Bang, bang!

Windham Xavier

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THE BASICS

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Name: Windham Alfred Xavier

Nicknames: Windy, X-Man, WAX

Gender: Cisgender Male

Age: 30

Birth Date: 470 PM

Birth Place: Xavier Village

Currently Living In: Xavier Village

Species: Elf

Ethnicity / Race: Elf

Citizenship: Honey Valley

Religion / Beliefs: Magetan Leftist

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FAMILY

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Father: Edward Xavier

Age: Dead

Relationship: Strained

Mother: Yvonne Xavier

Age: Dead

Relationship: Healthy

Sister: Llewellyn Xavier

Age: 35

Relationship: Caring

Pet(s): Zeal (nightjar)

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PHYSICAL FEATURES:

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Height: 6’3”

Weight: 185 lbs.

Frame / Build: Lanky

Hair length: Long

Hair color: Blond

Eye shape: Normal

Eye color: Purple

Complexion: Light Green

Face size (broad, narrow, etc.): Narrow

Voice type: Gentle

Foot size: 12

Tattoo(s): None

Scar(s): Lashes on his back

Other notable accessories: None

Any other identifying mark(s): Pointy ears

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SOCIO / ECONOMIC / POLITICAL

=========================================

Political Affiliation: Left-wing

Economic Class: Moneyless society

Social Class: Royalty

Occupation: Prince, Warrior, Artist

Income: Moneyless society

Residence: Xavier Village

Transportation: Feet

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INTERESTS

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Favorite Food(s): Vegetarian Burrito

Favorite Sport(s): Jogging

Favorite Book(s): Magetan bible

Favorite Show(s): TV doesn’t exist yet

Favorite Music: Gentle harps and violins

Favorite Color(s): Blue

Clothing Style / Preferences: Religious robes, gray body suits

Hobbies: Writing, reading, painting, and sculpting

Role Model(s): His sister, Mageta, his mother

Likes: Peace and quiet

Dislikes: Being overworked

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PERSONALITY

=========================================

Good Qualities / Trait(s): Kindness towards animals, loyal friend, cares about the downtrodden

Vices / Negative Trait(s): Distrust of strangers (after the rape), traumatic mind, burned out

Strengths: Fighting abilities with a whip, pick-pocketing, endurance

Weaknesses: Doesn’t handle trauma well, anger management issues, daddy issues

Habits / Idiosyncrasies / Quirks: Twirls hair and cracks joints

Phobia / Fears: His own mind, losing his individuality

Loves: Animals, creativity, friendship

Hates: Betrayal, racism, being overpowered

Select one personality type below that best describes your character:

Artist (ISFP) – Creative, quiet, serious, loyal and sensitive. Do not like conflict. Takes great value in personal freedom. Private and prone to confusion. Gifted at creating and composing. Good appreciation for beauty. Not interested in leading or controlling others. Very original and creative especially in the arts. Can be trendsetters and into latest styles and art / fashion / etc.

Define your character’s personality based on the following aspects:

a. Physically (outward interaction with his environment, personal strengths): Imposing warrior

b. Psychologically (intellect, mental stability, morality): Intelligent, easily angered, good intentions, easily traumatized

c. Spiritually (his faith, convictions): Zealot of the lion god Mageta

d. Emotionally (willpower, under stressful situations, expressiveness): Can’t handle excessive trauma, gets distracted by things that anger him, only cries when he knows he’s alone)

e. Socially (how others view him, how he interacts with people): He is hated by Shadow Asylum (despite being employed there), he is “loved” by the Atwood Queendom, and he’s genuinely loved by the Xavier Village.

Others things to know:

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HISTORY

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1. Describe the character’s childhood. During his single digit ages, Windham was shielded from the harshness of the human world by his overprotective mother and sister. By age 10, his father expected him to take the role of leader and pushed him too hard into that lifestyle. The brutal combat training, the long classes at the STEM school, and the lack of time to unwind and create art has left Windham with a disdain for his father. In the end, he just wants to get away from it all and he believes following the events of the story will bring him closer to his goal.

2. Name the good incidents that have happened in the character’s life. How has this shaped his personality? Windham enjoyed whale watching as a kid and incorporated his love for animals in his art

3. Name bad experiences that have happened in the character’s life. How has this shaped his personality? Not only did he receive tough treatment from his own father, but also the art galleries and teachers that constantly talked down to him. This made him hate his job even more.

4. What is the character doing when first introduced? What are his goals at this point?

He’s on a mission for Shadow Asylum to draw blueprints for Shelly Atwood’s castle. In reality, he wants to know what happened to the missing grangers in his village. He hates his job, but he feels compelled to do it because of his father’s toughness and the seriousness of his side quest.

4a. Do these goals change at any point in the story?

After the trauma of his rape, he just wants peace and quiet, to get as far away from Shelly, Orpheus, and his own throne as possible. He’s too burned out to carry on.

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STORY DEVELOPMENT:

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CHARACTER ARCHETYPE: (Put an X on all applicable boxes)

[] Addict (Conspicuous Consumer, Glutton, Workaholic–see also Gambler)

[] Advocate (Attorney, Defender, Legislator, Lobbyist, Environmentalist)

[] Alchemist (Wizard, Magician, Scientist, Inventor–see also Visionary)

[] Angel (Fairy Godmother/Godfather)

[] Antagonist (Opposing View, not necessarily the Evil Bad — see also Villain)

[] Anti-Hero

[X] Artist (Artisan, Craftsperson, Sculptor, Weaver)

[] Athlete (Olympian)

[] Avenger (Avenging Angel, Savior, Messiah)

[] Beggar (Homeless person/ Indigent)

[] Bully (Coward)

[] Catalyst

[] Child (Orphan, Wounded, Magical/Innocent, Nature, Divine, Puer/Puella Eternis, or Eternal Boy/Girl)

[] Clown (Court Jester, Fool, Dummling)

[X] Companion (Friend, Sidekick, Right Arm, Consort)

[X] Damsel (Princess)

[] Destroyer (Attila, Mad Scientist, Serial Killer, Spoiler)

[] Detective (Spy, Double Agent, Sleuth, Snoop, Sherlock Holmes, Private Investigator, Profiler–see also Warrior/Crime Fighter)

[] Dilettante (Amateur)

[] Don Juan (Casanova, Gigolo, Seducer, Sex Addict)

[] Engineer (Architect, Builder, Schemer)

[] Exorcist (Shaman)

[] Father (Patriarch, Progenitor)

[] Femme Fatale (Black Widow, Flirt, Siren, Circe, Seductress, Enchantress)

[] Gambler

[] God (Adonis, see also Hero)

[] Gossip (see also Networker)

[] Guide (Guru, Sage, Crone, Wise Woman, Spiritual Master, Evangelist, Preacher)

[] Healer (Wounded Healer, Intuitive Healer, Caregiver, Nurse, Therapist, Analyst, Counselor)

[] Hedonist (Bon Vivant, Chef, Gourmet, Gourmand, Sybarite–see also Mystic)

[] Hermit (see also Wise old Man)

[X] Hero/Heroine (see also Knight, Warrior)

[] Judge (Critic, Examiner, Mediator, Arbitrator)

[] King (Emperor, Ruler, Leader, Chief — see also Politician)

[] Knight in Shining Armor

[] Liberator

[] Lover

[] Martyr

[] Mediator (Ambassador, Diplomat, Go-Between)

[] Mentor (Master, Counselor, Tutor)

[] Messiah (Redeemer, Savior)

[] Midas/Miser

[] Monk/Nun (Celibate)

[] Mother (Matriarch, Mother Nature)

[] Mystic (Renunciate, Anchorite, Hermit)

[] Networker (Messenger, Herald, Courier, Journalist, Communicator)

[] Pioneer (Explorer, Settler, Pilgrim, Innovator)

[X] Poet

[X] Politician (see also King)

[] Priest (Priestess, Minister, Rabbi, Evangelist)

[X] Prince

[] Prostitute

[] Queen (Empress)

[] Rebel (Anarchist, Revolutionary, Political Protester, Nonconformist, Pirate)

[] Rescuer

[] Saboteur

[] Samaritan

[] Scribe (Copyist, Secretary, Accountant–see also Journalist)

[] Seeker (Wanderer, Vagabond, Nomad)

[] Servant (Indentured Servant)

[] Shape-shifter (Spell-caster–see also Trickster)

[] Slave

[] Spectre (Ghost / Apparition with Unresolved issues)

[X] Storyteller (Minstrel, Narrator)

[X] Student / Scholar (Disciple, Devotee, Follower, Apprentice)

[] Teacher (Instructor, see also Mentor)

[X] Thief (Swindler, Con Artist, Pickpocket, Burglar, Robin Hood)

[] Threshold Guardian

[] Trickster (Puck, Provocateur)

[] Turncoat

[] Vampire

[X] Victim

[] Villain / Shadow (Big Bad of the story; see also Antagonist)

[X] Virgin (see also Celibate)

[] Visionary (Dreamer, Prophet, Seer–see also Guide, Alchemist)

[X] Warrior (Soldier, Crime Fighter, Amazon, Mercenary, Soldier of Fortune, Gunslinger, Samurai)

[] Wise old Man (see also Hermit)

1. What are the motivations for the character’s actions? To complete his long list of duties so that he can finally have time for himself.

2. What are the character’s goals / ambition / dreams? To create art without judgment, to psychologically heal, to find peace and quiet, and to take care of animals

3. What external conflicts would you wish for the character to overcome?

Take down the Atwood Queendom and Shadow Asylum

3a. What are the obstacles in the character’s path that might make this difficult?

He’s only one person and they’re entire corporations. Plus, he’s afraid of Shelly.

4. What inner conflicts would you wish for the character to overcome?

Shutting up the voices in his head and “falling out of love” with Shelly

4a. What are the obstacles in the character’s path that might make this difficult?

Being raped and brainwashed to the point where that’s all he can think about

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AUTHOR’S NOTES / MISCELLANY

=========================================

Character theme song: “Heavy” by Linkin Park

Celebrity / IRL lookalike: Christopher Masterson, but with long hair

Run Like a Ninja

The growling in Ashley Garcia’s stomach resembled a demon thirsting for souls. She didn’t care if what she was doing was just as evil as that hell-spawn creature. A bowl of steaming hot ramen took priority over holy-rolling. A loaf of bread swimming in garlic butter was more important than praying on a medieval book for forgiveness. The rumbling in her stomach echoed in her brain like schizophrenia and even a wafer-thin mint would be a perfect antipsychotic. The rattling of her visible ribcage needed to be contained for good and the sacred scroll beneath her would be the key to that lock.

Being a Halfling afforded her the dexterity and balance that she needed to scale down the rope she threw down into the temple’s scroll room. Ashley didn’t want to go too fast for fear of alarming any monks, but slowing down wasn’t an option for her calloused hands and large dirt-covered feet. Just a few more inches, she told herself. A little more. Easy. Easy. Don’t make a sound. Don’t give the monks a reason to wheel kick a thief’s head off.

When she was close enough to drop to the wooden floor, she did so with a feather’s gentleness and breathed a silent sigh of relief. And just like that, the scroll was right there in front of her, resting easily on a piece of ceramic pottery. Ashley’s eyes widened and her hungry stomach settled in anticipation of the lunch money this would bring. When she snatched the scroll from its resting place, she didn’t even bother opening it up. She knew she had what she wanted. She knew any sucker would be lucky to buy such a holy artifact. Ashley would never starve again with this kind of money and that brought a smile to her gaunt face.

And then the sound of a dog growling permeated her fantasies and caused her to swallow a lump in her throat. Slowly she turned around to face the monk she pissed off the most: the captain of the guards himself, Yang Chow. 

He didn’t come armed with any weapons, because his limbs were destructive enough. He didn’t come with any harsh words, because his angry bulldog visage and monstrous growling said everything they needed to say. He didn’t come dressed in thick metal armor, because his red and orange robes were light enough to keep him nimble during times of combat. With his arms folded and his gorgon death eyes locked onto Ashley’s jittery form, it was time to get the fuck out of dodge.

Scroll tucked away in her back pocket, Ashley hopped up the rope and scaled as fast as she could. All the motivation to push her body beyond its limits came in the form of Yang barking up a storm and snapping his teeth like a bear trap. She was almost certain she would lose a foot to this maniacal dog demon. She was almost certain a piece of skin fell from her big toe. But she kept climbing even if it meant aggravating that wound and making it sting like a thousand wasps.

Ashley cursed to herself in a rapid-fire cadence as she made it to the rooftop, Yang still nipping at her heels. With the diagonal curvature of the temple’s roof, she knew this was a perfect time to curl into a ball and roll down the decline like a rogue wheel. And off she went, the shingles scraping against her skin the faster she rolled. Her back burned as though a volcano would erupt from her body, which was a better fate than having her head kicked off by a martial arts puppy-duppy. Still, his barks were no less distant than they were before. They just grew louder and more frustrated.

And then the sudden incline at the bottom of the roof launched her wheel-like body into the air and onto the busy streets below. Ashley landed with such grace that going splat on the concrete wasn’t even a possibility. But the minute she leapt to her feet, dizziness turned her brains into mush and her vision into a splotchy mess. She would have fallen on her ass if not for Yang’s barks becoming even louder than before. 

Even in a sloppy zigzag, she ran down the streets with the agility of a ninja warrior. She flipped over garbage cans. She baseball slid underneath an old man’s legs. She leapfrogged over a food delivery bicyclist and nearly knocked him over. Knowing Yang could chew her like bubblegum gave her the adrenaline boost she needed to run along the walls of a restaurant before flipping over a trolley.

Her heart thudded in her chest like a bomb ready to go off. Her brains rotted into mush on account of not giving herself a chance to recover from dizziness. Her legs and back burned as though someone had branded her with a glowing red iron. Her feet could have fallen off long before she got gangrene from not wearing shoes. And yet, Ashley kept on running and dodging. She leapfrogged over another bicyclist. She flipped over a guardrail. She ran along an awning that almost collapsed under her thunderous force.

Ashley had no destination in mind. She couldn’t even think clearly enough to come up with one, because Yang’s barks and growls were like a screwdriver shoved in her ears. When her eyes watered to the point of blindness and her mind faded to funeral blackness, she crashed face-first into a brick wall and flopped on her back, the sacred scroll rolling out of her grasp. The sound of her nose crunching resembled potato chips she would probably never know the taste of. She breathed heavily despite blood running down her nostrils. If overworking herself didn’t kill her, Yang surely would.

Her vision was obstructed by the heavy pus dumplings under her eyes, but even she knew Yang’s angry face when she saw it. There he was standing over her soon-to-be corpse, arms folded, scroll in hand. He reached down to Ashley, presumably to rip out her heart. Or the least likely scenario of them all, to pull her up to her feet. She could barely stand underneath the weight of body-shredding pain. She couldn’t even look Yang in the eyes, blackened pus pockets aside.

“Aren’t you at all curious as to what this scroll says?” asked Yang in an uncharacteristically soothing voice.

Ashley’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Um…what?”

“You mean to tell me that you stole this scroll from my temple and you don’t even know what it is?” Ashley tucked her head in shame. “Look at me, young lady.” Yang opened the scroll and revealed that they were coupons for restaurant food. Five gold pieces for two octopus burgers. Ten gold pieces for a gallon of broccoli cheese soup. Two packages of beef stew and rice for only one gold piece. Shame hit Ashley in the gut worse than any martial arts punch from Yang would have…even though she no longer expected him to beat her ass.

Yang knelt down to meet her Halfling level and put a hand on Ashley’s shoulder. “Young lady…you didn’t just steal a document hoping for a quick buck. You did it at the expense of other impoverished people like yourself. The temple where I work isn’t just a religious institution. It’s a shelter for those who need it the most. If you wanted the coupons, we would have shared them with you.”

Ashley’s tears stung her pus lumps like a scorpion tail. “I…I’m sorry…I’ll just…I’ll find another way to…” 

“Enough. I don’t need your apologies. I wouldn’t know what to do with them anyways.”

“What?...What do you mean?”

“Young lady…what you did was as rotten as the food you find the dumpster. It was evil. It was low even for a desperate street thief like yourself.” Ashley’s tears developed into little floods to mix with her nose blood, giving her the ultimate mask of guilt, shame, and defeat. But then Yang said…”I understand why you did it.”

“Huh? You do?”

“You think you’re the only one to try and steal from us? Look around you, young lady. The economy doesn’t favor the poor at all. Impoverished folk are unfairly categorized as lazy while the rich who live off of their backs are lionized to god status. To take the focus away from their own horrific deeds, the rich have the poor fight amongst themselves, steal from each other, treat every meal like it’s a competition. Stealing is the only life you’ve ever known, because you have no other way.”

“You don’t know a damn thing about me, dog man. I doubt you would trust me again if you knew what I was capable of. I’ve slit many throats just to stay alive. How do you know I won’t slit yours?”

“My martial arts training aside, you know deep down that slitting my throat wouldn’t bring you closer to another meal. Prison food doesn’t count. You deserve better than a prisoner’s life, young lady. When was the last time you even experienced a loving home?”

Ashley swatted Yang’s hand away. “Love? You think love is going to give me something to eat every day? You think it’s going to keep me from sleeping in a dumpster? What makes you think love is going to do anything for me?”

Staying true to his bulldog nature, Yang licked the tears and blood off of Ashley’s face, which made her produce even more tears. The more Yang licked, the more pieces Ashley’s heart broke into, which was saying a lot considering the near-death exercise she put herself through. In a rare act of gratitude and love, Ashley hugged her stubby arms around Yang’s neck, breaking into a full-on crying spell over his orange and red robe.

“Thank you, dog man. Thank you so much! Please, don’t leave me here!”

“I won’t, young lady. In spite of what the privileged believe, nobody gets left behind on my streets. Come with me. Let’s get some food in your stomach.”

The dog monk and Halfling thief walked hand in hand together, Ashley’s waterworks never once drying up. In a world that didn’t care about her, she found someone who did. Life was very much worth living even though she had to learn how to do so all over again. There would be no more thievery and dishonesty, because they weren’t necessary in a truly loving home.

The Dark of You

There was no glory in being stuck in a cat cage at the Humane Society. Then again, being punched and screamed at by Dr. Claw was the entire reason for MAD Cat being here in the first place. He hissed at the memories of having his head pounded in. He curled in the corner as every insult played in his traumatized mind. The one memory that brought wetness to his eyes was when Dr. Claw smashed MAD Cat’s Inspector Gadget toy bank to pieces.

The black and gray feline tucked his face in his paws and allowed his tears to flow freely. These kinds of emotions were forbidden in his former life of crime and villainy. But in this animal shelter with other meowing felines and barking canines, MAD Cat didn’t have any choices when it came to showing vulnerability. The bumps on his noggin and the redness in his eyes did enough of that for him.

His heart fractured in two at the thought of being potentially adopted by a loving family…mainly because he didn’t know what that was supposed to look like. He didn’t know what love was. He had a vague idea of it for all of the times that Dr. Claw petted him. But if that was his only reference point, then he earned every tear that fell from his bloodshot eyes.

MAD Cat wanted a second chance at life. He wanted to be the loving and sweet kitty that his caretakers at the Humane Society needed him to be. Whenever an ordinary human walked by his cage, he would roll over and fake purrs just to put on a show. But when they stuck their fingers through the cage, anger took over with a growl, a hiss, and a vicious claw slash that sometimes drew blood. The caretakers in scrubs would ask what the hell was wrong with him. The would-be owners would let a stream of curses fly as they held their bloody fingers.

While patience would have to be a virtue for every potential pet owner, knowing they could never show patience for a feral warrior like MAD Cat sent him scurrying into the corner of his cage tucking his head. Another opportunity at life squandered forever. Another crying spell with heavy breathing in between teardrops. MAD Cat had never breathed this heavily before. He could slash and claw like a jungle beast, but only after arriving at the shelter did he huff and wheeze after every confrontation. Was he gaining weight? Was the dried kibble in his pink bowl giving him digestive problems? The food was slightly better than what Dr. Claw used to feed him, but why the heavy breathing?

Every day in this rowdy shelter was the same. Slash, hiss, growl, receive dirty looks, get traumatized by the swear words, rinse, lather, repeat. MAD Cat had completely lost track of how long he’d been in this lonely cage of his own making. Even with all of that time passing by, the memories of Dr. Claw’s abuse remained fresh and painful. He rolled around on the carpeted floor trying to feel comfortable every night.

His bumpy spine wasn’t the problem. The lumps on his noggin didn’t help matters, but it was what was inside the noggin that kept him awake most nights and kept his eyes black and red the entire time. More nightmares. More punches. More threats. More of Dr. Claw’s throaty voice yelling and screaming at him in a way that no master should treat an animal. He’d wake up every morning even more tired than before. And yet, he kept his guard up around any human or animal that walked by his cage. His claws were unsheathed and the scent of blood invaded his nostrils.

And then his eyes burned with scalding tears when he saw other animals being freed from their cages and held tenderly by their new owners. Cats rubbed their heads against children’s arms. Dogs licked their parents’ faces and wouldn’t stop. Dogs and cats collectively rolled over in happiness that their special day had finally come. MAD Cat’s day would never come. He didn’t even bother trying to look cute anymore. No more rolling over or faking purrs. Just sitting in the corner with a clenched jaw, bloody claws, and burning eyes. He almost entertained the idea of going back into Dr. Claw’s arms, but then remembered Inspector Gadget raiding the hideout and putting him here in the first place. MAD Cat crossed his paws and seethed with jealousy.

More days went by and more animals not named MAD Cat were being adopted left and right. More hugs, kisses, purrs, and pets, none of which were for the only cat left in the shelter after the days had turned to weeks. No new influx of animals, only caretakers in scrubs celebrating with champagne that they had, “Cleared the shelters.” MAD Cat’s fuse shortened a little more…and he huffed and puffed a little louder.

And then…the day finally came. But it wasn’t an adopter who visited MAD Cat’s cage. It was a scrub-wearing caretaker with thick rimmed glasses, a skinny build, and a nametag that said Mitch. Mitch’s face was long before, but gained a few more inches as he gazed upon MAD Cat with sadness and regret. “I’m sorry, little guy. It’s time to be put down.”

MAD Cat’s eyes widened and he let out a violent hiss at those words. As soon as Mitch opened the cage just a little bit, MAD Cat flew out and slashed at his face, causing a gash to run down his cheek. The taste of freedom was better than any kibble this god-forsaken shelter served and MAD Cat took full advantage as he darted around the room. Other caretakers in scrubs tried to catch him, but he was too fast. One that was fortunate to grab his tail was met with a nasty bite on the wrist that caused a howl of pain.

He ran past more caretakers, bobbing and weaving through their legs and slashing at anybody who came within inches of recapturing him. And then, a guest opened the front door and MAD Cat bolted outside for fresh air. Breathing cool air never felt so good on his burning lungs. But when he did so, it was heavy and wheezy yet again. His legs ached, his stomach boiled, his lungs barely did their job in supplying him with oxygen. All MAD Cat wanted to do was lay in the street and finally get the sleep he desperately needed, even if a nightmare was waiting for him on the other side. Dr. Claw’s beatings didn’t sound so bad after all.

Just when he was ready to drift away, Mitch wrapped him in a towel and said in a gentle voice, “There you are, little guy! It’s okay. I won’t hurt you. We still love you.” Mitch petted MAD Cat behind the ears and the feline’s tears soaked his already battered face yet again. The scratches sent tingles throughout his scalp and the purring was real this time. “You poor thing. You’ve got a lump on your chest.”

Mitch was right. He touched two fingers to MAD Cat’s chest and sure enough, there it was blocking the feline’s breathing. It all made sense now. What didn’t make sense was why it took this long for MAD Cat to experience any kind of loving touch from the human race. As Mitch took him back inside, MAD Cat realized that this would be the only moment of gentleness he would take to the after life. He wanted to leap out of his caretaker’s arms and make another dash for freedom. But he was so tired. His eyes were closing. Pain disabled his limbs. And that damned lump on his chest…that was the final blow that couldn’t be delivered by Dr. Claw.

Mitch took him into the medical wing and laid him on a metal table, unwrapping the towel as a sign of trust. Every staff member MAD Claw had ungratefully bitten and slashed was standing around him not with masks of anger and blood, but with sympathy and sadness. They all reached over and scratched him behind the ears and on his bumpy back. Even though MAD Cat was purring like a lawnmower this time, he still couldn’t shake the nonstop tears.

As part of this procedure, Mitch pulled out his smart phone and played a sorrowful song for MAD Cat to take with him to the afterlife. Some singer named Ben serenaded MAD Cat with lines about being “The Dark of You” while a piano and thunder accompanied these words. Even the caretakers couldn’t help but tear up and wipe their faces with either their fingers or a nearby Kleenex.

Mitch petted MAD Cat on the head and said, “Don’t worry, little guy. It’ll all be over soon. After this is over, you’ll get to go to a magical place where you don’t have to worry about that mean Dr. Claw ever again. You can be happy again. But you have to hold still for me. Okay?” He kissed MAD Cat on the nose and the feline relaxed into a puddle on the table.

One of the caretakers handed Mitch a needle while others gently cradled the fur ball. There was no last hurrah for MAD Cat. No dash for freedom. No bloody battle. Then again, he didn’t want a last hurrah. He didn’t want to repeat the violence of his former master. He did it only because that was all he knew. Happiness had been so foreign to MAD Cat that it would take a needle poke in his arm to help him realize it. And then the caretakers petted him. And then his eyes closed. They didn’t burn this time. There were no tears. There was only peace and quiet. Blackness clouded his vision as the Broken singer named Ben sang him into the afterlife.

MAD Cat’s blackened vision was brightened by a glowing gold light. When he slowly opened his eyes, they didn’t burn anymore. They didn’t leak salty fluids. His breathing wasn’t heavy anymore. His legs and torso didn’t burn with hellish pain. The lumps on his head were flattened. His bumpy spine felt comfy and warm as he laid in a field of grass. This was what it meant to be…happy.

MAD Cat hopped to his feet and did victory laps around the grass field, the sun warming his fur coat and the colorful bridge in front of him guiding him to even more heavenly pastures. The further he crossed that colorful bridge, the more pep he had in his step. Fuzzy friends of all sorts were waiting for MAD Cat, each of them with purrs louder than a machinegun and doggy smiles that kept the scenery bright. MAD Cat didn’t feel like scratching and biting them. Instead when he crossed the bridge, he wrestled with them on the grassy knoll. Any bites and scratches he unleashed were playful and loving, not malicious. He wouldn’t tire out for a long time, but when he did and the moon and stars replaced the sun, he found himself in the fuzziest cuddle puddle and he didn’t want to move.

Dr. Claw would never find him here. Inspector Gadget wouldn’t start any more fights in his presence. No cage could limit his happiness. MAD Cat finally knew what it meant to be wild and free. Maybe in his next lifetime, he could take a permanent vacation from organized crime and snuggle in his new master’s lap. But for now, all he wanted to do was relax, love, and be loved. Was that too much to ask? His new furry friends disagreed. Maybe MAD Cat could take some of them with him when his time to be reborn came along. That was what the world needed right now: more animal babies, less Dr. Claws.

"Doggolescence" by Rachel Oates and Kyra the Staffy

BOOK TITLE: Doggolescence
AUTHORS: Rachel Oates and Kyra the Staffy
YEAR: 2020
GENRE: Poetry
SUBGENRE: Animal Parodies
GRADE: Pass

All Rachel Oates wanted to do was have some fun at the expense of Gabbie Hanna and her “poetry”. Nothing too serious, just a few parodies from the point of view of Rachel’s lovable doggy Kyra. Because Kyra has childlike innocence, the parody poems are simple by nature, but are much more entertaining than the source material. There are lots of funny ones like “Honey”, “Texts”, and “Mirror”, but also some serious ones like “Nights”. Judging from the effective punch lines at the end of the funnier poems, if Rachel Oates wanted to be a standup comic somewhere down the line, she very well could since she possesses a perfect understanding of joke structures. But a poem like “Nights” will hit you like a heavyweight punch to the gut. Dogs who live at shelters are notoriously lonely since they have nobody to snuggle with and all of the blankets and toys on the concrete floor doesn’t change the fact that the floor is indeed made out of concrete. I know the phrase, “Adopt, don’t shop!” gets used quite liberally, but to be frank, it doesn’t get said enough. Rachel understands this and not only did she get an awesome book out of it, but she has something worth so much more: a loving doggy to call her own. Belly rubs, ear scratches, jowl wiggles, and most importantly, steak treats! All the good things in life come from Rachel’s home. Which is why it’s hard for me to point out one teeny tiny little flaw in this collection: too much bathroom humor for my tastes. But that’s just my opinion and Rachel doesn’t have to adjust her writing style for one reader. All in all, a nice little poetry book even if she openly admits to putting as little effort into it as Gabbie Hanna put into her own book. Four out of five stars! And by the way, the pictures of Kyra are so darn cute!

Oswald

I see you everyday sleeping your life away

Losing time again, can’t convince you to stay

Your legs are so weak you can’t stand up

Is this your way of saying you’ve had enough?

I’ll miss you dearly on the day that you pass

I’ll miss your chubby belly, so much mass

I’ll miss you rolling over on your back

I’ll miss you munching on a chicken snack

Miss your precious face, expressions so sweet

Miss your pretty eyes, close them as you sleep

The Rainbow Bridge is waiting for you

Make lots of friends for me, old and new

I hope your life was one worth living

My love for you was well worth giving

One of these days, we’ll cross paths again

Even in death, you’ll be my sweetest friend

Until next time, my Buddha-bellied feline

Until next time, my little oinking swine

Soon you will be free of your elderly pain

You’ll be missed so much, our eyes will rain

Losing fuzzy friends never gets easier

Reincarnate one day into someone beefier

I Love My Dog

CHORUS

I love my dog X4

VERSE 1

Schipperke, sweetie pea, fluffy love for me

Fur child, jungle wild, energetic style

Tiny puppy, little chubby, man’s best buddy

Barge dog, he’s the boss, barks like he’s God

CHORUS

I love my dog X4

VERSE 2

Butt rubs, back rubs, bath time scrubs

Slice of ham, rack of lamb, feed the little man

Comfy bed, rest his head, after he’s been fed

Spoil him, pamper him, joyous to the brim

BRIDGE

His name is Willem and he’s my baby

You can pet him too, for sure, not maybe

You can love him, he’s sweeter than candy

A bacon cheeseburger will come in handy

A bowl of cereal will earn his friendship

A permanent home will make it endless

But watch out for his hyperactive spark

He’s so happy that he’ll infinitely bark

CHORUS

I love my dog X4

A Dog's Journey

MOVIE TITLE: A Dog’s Journey

DIRECTOR: Gail Mancuso

YEAR: 2019

GENRE: Animal Drama

RATING: PG for mild violence

GRADE: Extra Credit

An Australian Shepherd named Bailey enjoys life on a farm with his puppy parents Ethan and Hannah. He also loves their granddaughter CJ and has sworn to protect her no matter how many lives it takes him to do so. An alcoholic mother, a slew of bad boyfriends, and a dwindling music career all serve as obstacles for CJ growing up. The one thing she can count on is always having a puppy-duppy by her side despite the negative influences around her. Can this series of dogs help CJ find her way into a comfortable and loving life?

There wasn’t a single dry eye in the move theater when I saw this. Even though I take medication that keeps me emotionally numb, I also couldn’t help but shed a tear or two. Every death, every heartbreak, every cancer diagnosis, and every tragedy in this movie meant something. I wouldn’t have teared up for characters I didn’t care about, but CJ and her many dogs are incredibly deserving of not only the audience’s attention, but love as well. CJ may be the most lovable human character of them all, but even she’s not above making foolish mistakes from time to time. Her imperfections make her a suitable vehicle for our emotions. When she cries, you cry. When she’s happy, you’re happy. When she conquers the world, you too feel inspired to do so. That’s a lot of tears for a lot of moviegoers.

As many lovable characters as there are in this film, they couldn’t bring you those much-needed tears without their foils. Gloria, CJ’s neglectful and emotionally abusive mother, is very much deserving of your scorn. But even she can be redeemable, which is more than the audience will ever say about CJ’s criminal boyfriend Shane or her arrogant suit-wearing boyfriend afterwards named Barry. It’s toxic people like these that remind the audience over and over again never to make the foolish choices that CJ had the misfortune of making. These villains wouldn’t make good puppy parents. They wouldn’t even make good casual acquaintances. The sooner CJ is rid of them, the better off she’ll be. It’s heartbreaking to watch these people invade her life, but it’s necessary to keep the conflict strong and the audience’s eyeballs wet.

And of course, Bailey wouldn’t be able to protect CJ as much as he has if not for the power of reincarnation. This is a powerful theme in the movie, especially when the dead dogs run through a wheat field to cross the Rainbow Bridge. There are critics of reincarnation out there and they very well could be right. But there’s no denying the comfort it brings to owners of deceased pets. It doesn’t even have to be a religious deal. It could just be comfort for comfort’s sake. I had a spunky all-white cat named Simon who crossed the Rainbow Bridge in 2011. Two years later I adopted an equally-spunky cat named Tori, whom I jokingly call Simon 2.0 because of how similar they are. It could be a coincidence, but even my atheist heart doesn’t have it in me to ruin the magic for pet owners, let alone the moviegoers who shed many tears in the theater that evening.

It’s rare when a movie hits me where it hurts the most. I usually watch a movie with the idea that I’ll like it, but not much beyond that. I didn’t just like this movie. I loved it. It made me believe in the power of animal companionship all over again (not that I ever questioned it). Our fur babies depend on us to provide love and care. I’ll keep doing so for as long as I live. I consider it to be my life’s purpose, above my writing career even. That’s what A Dog’s Journey means to me and that’s why I’m giving it an extra credit grade. Congratulations, puppy-duppies: you’ve earned every broken heart.

"Cecil's Pride" by The Hatkoff Family

BOOK TITLE: Cecil’s Pride: The True Story of a Lion King

AUTHORS: The Hatkoff Family

YEAR: 2016

GENRE: Nonfiction

SUBGENRE: Lion Biography

GRADE: Extra Credit

When Cecil the Lion was heartlessly killed by a trophy hunter, it sparked worldwide outrage and rightfully so. The subsequent debate on animal welfare and wildlife conservation led to new laws being put in place to protect future generations of lions. But to fully understand how important these new protections are, we must first understand how Cecil lived his life as the king of his pride. He wasn’t just a random animal. He was a loving protector and a social creature at heart. May he rest peacefully and may his pride continue his majestic bloodline.

Instead of just a barebones biography, Cecil’s story was treated as an actual story with a beginning, middle, and end. He was portrayed as a three-dimensional character with his strengths, flaws, and lovability. He fought other animals when his pride was threatened and he ran away only when necessary. And because lions like Cecil are social creatures, they bond with other prides for the sake of protection. This is a classic storytelling technique: two factions banding together to fight off a stronger villain. And when Cecil is eventually killed, the reader will care that much more about him. It was already an angering story to hear about on the news, but to see it in this book is that much more heartbreaking. Cecil’s portrayal as a regal figure and a dynamic character in a much larger story is what makes this book special enough to deserve an extra credit grade.

In addition to employing storytelling techniques, this book also has an educational side to it. Because these two qualities work side-by-side with each other, it’ll be a guaranteed hit with students of all ages. You’ll learn why lions are important to Africa’s ecosystem. You’ll learn why they attract so many mates at a time. You’ll even learn a few statistics about animal extinction and why conservation is more important now than it has been in the past. Education shouldn’t stop when school is over. You can get more out of this book than just trivial facts. You can learn empathy. You can learn how to be an activist. You can do some good in this world with these forty pages shaping your mind. Put down the hunting rifle. Put down the bow and arrow. The only shooting you should be doing is with a high shutter speed camera.

Speaking of which, the lion photographs in this book are magnificent to look at. Cecil looks like a proud king when he watches over his families. His cubs look like little cuties when they practice their roars. His lionesses look seductive when lying about with their mates. Cecil even looks alert and ready to protect his pack when he’s doing something as mundane as drinking from the river. The African landscape is more than just a place for wild animals to do battle. It’s a kingdom. It’s an empire. It’s a society that must be protected from the cruelty of guns and crossbows. These pictures do the lions justice a hundred times over. Even the drawings have that kind of power over the reader.

It’s easy to balk at this book for being targeted towards small children. There are also a few who will contrast Cecil’s death to those of aborted fetuses. There are even those who question why lion lives matter to begin with. To those who would easily brush this book aside, I say give it one chance to change your heart. It’s forty pages and it’s mostly pictures. You’re not sacrificing much when picking this book up for a quick read. If anything, you’ll be better off for the experience. Keep your eyes and mind open and you’ll want to give this book an extra credit grade as well.

Goddamn Dog

As Tim Coleman laid half asleep in bed on a rainy afternoon, he kept wondering why his girlfriend Jade Quinn had “One More Light” by Linkin Park playing on repeat before she left for work in the morning. She wasn’t her usual peppy self. No smiles. No kisses. Not even a hug. Just cold, empty eyes as she left Tim in charge of dogsitting duty. The pouring rain coupled with the dour mood made him curl up against his pillow even more. A pillow was no substitute for Jade, however. He would have settled for Millie crawling up under the blankets. But then…

Something assaulted Tim’s nose like a wrecking ball to the face and had just about as much knockout power. He pulled his nostrils under the blanket, but he could still smell that rancid, god-awful odor coming from the living room. “Oh no…no, no, no…please tell me she didn’t do it…no…no…NO!”

He threw the blankets off of him and stomped out to the living room wearing just his athletic shorts. The harder he stomped, the more rage pumped through his ogre-like body. The odor set his nostrils nearly ablaze as he tried to suppress the urge to vomit. And then he made it to the living room and saw that Jade’s hardwood floors had become a battlefield of landmines. Gigantic, steaming brown landmines with the general herself laying on the ground in guilt. Millie the salt n’ pepper colored Labrador mooed like a cow before unleashing a cloud of toxic gas from her already putrid bunghole.

“Goddamn it, Millie! You stupid fucking goddamn dog!” shouted Tim from the top of his lungs. “I am so sick and tired of cleaning up your fucking messes! You goddamn dog!” Fury and venom poured from the fat man’s lips with every swearing scream. “I’m going to fucking kill you, you stupid dog!” Though he would never go through on such a threat, Millie wouldn’t have known as she guiltily tucked her head.

Tim stomped to the bathroom and fetched the necessary cleaning supplies for a job this disgusting: paper towels, a mop, and a bucket he filled with soapy water. In between retrieving these necessary items, he kept on roaring like the pissed off lion he was. “You goddamn dog! Quit shitting all over the fucking floor, asshole!”

His first course of action was to scoop up all of the dog turds with god knows how many paper towels before flushing them down the toilet separately. Every time he bent over, the odor triggered his gag reflex to where he wanted to vomit himself inside out. While that would be an instant relief to his aching and tired body, it would also mean more messes to clean up. “Goddamn stupid ass fucking dog!” he screamed.

After flushing the turds down the drain, he sat on the toilet seat for a while and wiped the sweat from his body, which poured like the rainy weather outside. Tim took several deep breaths not only to recover his lost energy, but also in a vain attempt to calm himself down. “Stupid dog…stupid goddamn dog!” he screamed, completely destroying his ambitions of nirvana.

Step two of this ultimate cleaning job was to mop the floors as vigorously as he could. A few strokes in and he was already sucking wind. Wind, by the way, that was broken by a sixteen-year-old dog huddling in the corner. “Stupid dog!” Tim screamed again as he scrubbed the wooden floor. No matter how hard he mopped, the air thickened like he was in a burning building. At this point he was genuinely surprised the smoke alarm didn’t go off during this job. “You stupid motherfucking dog! Quit making me clean up after you, you little shithead!”

Once he was certain the shit was completely cleaned up off the floor, he death-marched to the bathroom to flush the mop water down the toilet. His head ached worse than if he had been beaten with hammers. His heart pounded as if a Mortal Kombat character was trying to rip it out. His lower back flared with pain like he had taken a body slam over a pile of razorblades. Tim sat on the toilet and sucked some more wind, confident that his job was finally over.

He had recovered a modicum of his energy before he put the cleaning supplies back in the bathroom closet. Slowly and languidly, he waddled out to the living room and took care not to slip on the wet surface. The only wet surface he had to deal with it that moment was the one on Jade Quinn’s horrified face, an intensification of what she felt when she left for work this morning.

There she was in her business skirt, high heels, and wrinkled dress shirt. She dropped her purse by her feet and stared down Tim’s guilty soul with wetness in her eyes. Her lips quivered as she tried to form a sentence. “T…Tim…did I just…hear you…yelling at Millie?” No response, only a saggy frown to match his guilt. “Answer me!” she cried.

Tim’s own face quivered as he too tried to muster up the words he needed. “Jade, I’m sorry. She…she shit all over the floor and…I panicked…I would never do anything to hurt Millie, you know that, right?”

Pointing her manicured finger at Tim, Jade fought back the rest of her tears in vain as she mumbled, “You…would never…hurt Millie?” Silence hung between the two lovers like a yawning, fiery chasm. “You just did, you insensitive asshole!” Jade dropped to her knees and held her long blond hair in her hands, emptying her eyes of emotional fluids. Millie slowly edged towards her and got a scratch behind the ears from her one true master.

Tim gingerly approached his girlfriend and knelt down to put his massive hand on her shoulder. Jade swatted him away instantly. “Don’t touch me!” she sobbed. “You’ve done enough damage today!” She hugged Millie around her neck and cried into her salt and pepper fur. “I’m sorry, baby girl. I’m sorry he yelled at you like that.”

Tim stood back up not knowing what else to say. Apologizing didn’t work. Explaining his actions didn’t work. Not even a gentle touch of the shoulder could bring his girlfriend out of her sorrowful abyss. He knew he fucked up badly and could do nothing but sit on the leather couch with his pudgy face in his hands.

“You can’t sit there anymore, Tim,” blubbered Jade. “Not after what you did. This was supposed to be Millie’s special day. I was going to take her to the park and get her ice cream after I got off work. And now…all she’s going to remember is you yelling at her…How could you, Tim?”

“Wha…What do you mean all she’s going to remember? Is that why you played that Linkin Park song this morning? Jade, you can tell me what’s going on.”

Wiping away tears even though they wouldn’t stop coming, Jade lifted her face from her hug with the dog and said, “Millie has stomach cancer. That’s why she’s been going to the bathroom on the floor a lot. And you react to this mild inconvenience by yelling those awful things at her?!”

Tim didn’t notice it when he was cleaning, but now that he thought about it, there were small traces of red in Millie’s stool. The guilt choked him up like a noose around the neck. His eyes grew sore, but he did a better job of hiding his sadness than his girlfriend. Even during this dark time he was too proud to fall apart in front of her. But he couldn’t help it. One tear rolled down his cheek while many more cascaded from Jade’s eyes.

“You know, Jade…there’s no reason…why we can’t still get Millie ice cream.” His voice trembled as he etched out those words.

“Yes, there is!” shouted Jade as she stood back up. “She’ll just shit all over the floor and you’ll scream like a little child again as you clean it up! The only reason why you’re sorry is because you got caught! You don’t care about my dog! You don’t care about my emotions! In fact, get your fat ass off my couch and get dressed! I don’t want you here anymore!”

Tim didn’t get up. He sat there and let another tear roll down his cheek. “I’m sorry, Jade.”

“No, you’re not!” cried Jade as she grabbed Tim’s arm and tried in vain to jerk him to a standing position. When he wouldn’t budge, she just crumpled to a pile on the floor and cried some more, prompting Millie to lick her face dry.

“Jade…if you give me the keys to your car…I will go to the supermarket and buy vanilla ice cream for Millie. She loves vanilla, right?”

“Go to hell, Tim!”

“Listen to me!” urged Tim as he cupped Jade’s shoulders in his hands. “If you still want me gone from here, I’ll go. But please let me get the ice cream for Millie. She deserves that much. Right, old lady?” Tim petted Millie’s head and talked cutely to her about what a good dog she was, even planting a kiss on her wet nose. Millie returned a puppy kiss for his efforts.

Tim then held Jade’s hand in his own and begged, “Please…let me get the ice cream. You can even come with me if you want and we’ll listen to One More Light for as long as you want. I love that song too. And Millie can come ride with us. She can stick her head out the window and…”

“Tim, enough,” said Jade while a holding a hand in front of her boyfriend. She wiped away a tear and sniffed snot up her nose. “I know what you’re trying to do and it won’t work. She’s just going to shit in the car again and you’ll go on another yelling spree. If anybody’s going to get the ice cream, it’s me.”

With that said, Jade and Millie walked out of the house together for a ride in the car while Tim sat on the couch in his shorts sulking it up. A few tears escaped his eyes and he didn’t bother to wipe them away. It was over. It was all over. Not just for him, but for Millie as well. The puppy kiss didn’t even feel like true forgiveness. Knowing his hands were unclean (in more ways than one), Tim Coleman pulled himself off the couch and trudged back to the bedroom, presumably to get his things and go.

And then…he walked past the kitchen and saw something magnetized to the refrigerator door. He pulled down a familiar sheet of glossy paper and studied it for a while before making his final attempt at goodwill towards Jade and Millie. Wasting no more time, he picked up the phone and dialed a number on the sheet of paper. A few rings later, he was patched in.

“Thank you for choosing Pizza Hut. How can I help you tonight?”

“Yes, I’d like an extra large meat lover’s pizza with stuffed crust.” Tim couldn’t contain his sorrow over the phone and it was noticeable.

“Are you okay, sir?”

“Not really. But I’m sure my dog will be happy to see you once you get here with that pizza.”

"Where's My Kitty?" by Ashley Uzzell

BOOK TITLE: Where’s My Kitty?

AUTHOR: Ashley Uzzell

YEAR: 2016

GENRE: Fiction

SUBGENRE: Children

GRADE: Pass

Little Kassidy is playing outside and would love to have a furry friend to share her adventures. But she keeps asking, “Where’s my kitty?” She looks in all of the usual places from the forest to the bathtub to even his favorite spot on the living room couch. Where could the little munchkin be?

Because this book is short by nature, this review will also be a brief one. First of all, I’ll just say…aww! Actually, you’re going to be saying that throughout this reading adventure. The pictures of little Spunky (the cat) are adorable and it’s easy to see why Kassidy would want to snuggle and play with the fur baby sweetheart. Not only does she want to know, “Where’s my kitty?”, but you’ll want to know too. You’ll wish you could give the fuzzy rug-rat pettings behind the ear and across his back. You’ll wish you could hear his purr motor revving in your ear. You’ll wish you could see the look on Kassidy’s cheerful baby face when she finds him. I’d warn you about that spoiler, but you saw it coming from miles away. This is an all-around cute book and that’s what you should expect when you pick up a copy.

Although the book was published in 2016, it was written when the real-life Kassidy was just a toddler. Since then, Spunky has passed to the Rainbow Bridge and Kassidy has won her battle with childhood leukemia. This book, as short as it may be, is a wonderful tribute to a wonderful love between child and kitty. Spunky is purring from beyond the grave, which is why I’m giving this book a passing grade. You’ve done your daughter proud, Ms. Uzzell!

Italian Stallion

Let’s bookend this crazy twenty-eighteen

With the cutest fuzz ball you’ve ever seen

The sweetest old man to walk the earth

The reason for my happiness and rebirth

His name is Emilio, the Italian Stallion

Bouncy like Tigger, sleepy like Valium

His interests include cuddling and snuggling

Whether I’m happy with life or struggling

The year before, three fur babies passed

I never thought it could happen so fast

Maggie the saggy-jowled Springer Spaniel

Watching her die was more than I could handle

Sitka was a kitty called the Queen of Halloween

Now her spiritual essence will forever fly free

Smokey loved to sleep on my comfy bed

Now she permanently rests her fuzzy head

While nobody could replace these beautiful souls

Somebody had to patch up my heart full of holes

Emilio the sweetie pie would come to my aid

Though at first he was timid, lonely, and afraid

It took some pettings and cradles in my arms

No longer would he come into danger or harm

Safe from the streets, cozy under my roof

Love is very real and Emilio is living proof

May he spend his days happy and relaxed

To a homeless life, he’ll never ever go back

Welcome to my home, welcome to my bed

Feel free to rest your fluffy old kitty head

My Child

VERSE 1

If I allowed you to be born in this world

Your hate for me would come full circle

I’d give you the genes, the mental disease

You would murder yourself to be set free

Ripping the stitches after life-saving surgery

Someone stole your soul, an act of burglary

A never-ending cycle of psychological torture

Another week to live is what the doctor orders

VERSE 2

If I allowed you to be born on this earth

You’d be considered a criminal by virtue of birth

Bullied by the worst kinds of scum in school

Fired by the bosses with their autocratic rule

Beaten by the cowards in the dingiest prison

Until darkness becomes your only true vision

I couldn’t put you through any of that shit

Another reason to never have my own kid

BRIDGE

My child, my son, my daughter, my young

Punished for the crime of not holding your tongue

Punished for the crime of not breaking down

Punished for wanting to drown out the sounds

Of the voices telling you you’re not good enough

That surviving this world is for the macho and tough

I can’t raise you in an environment such as this

Time to say goodnight with a forehead kiss

VERSE 3

My only children have fur on their bodies

My only children bark for a piece of salami

My only children meow for a can of tuna fish

My only children drink from a paw print dish

My only children don’t need to go to college

To pay off their debts by emptying their wallets

To answer to the police for doing nothing wrong

Just listen to this purr baby’s mechanical song

Ozzy

***OZZY***

As someone who was born in the mid-1980’s, I’m chronologically predisposed to sharing details of my life on the internet, especially if they’re going to have even the slightest impact on my creative activities. I don’t expect that this incident will, but it is something to think about for all the times I’ve been too exhausted to work.

Our gray and white kitty Ozzy has a nasty abscess on the side of his face and yesterday it burst open and sprayed blood all over Mom and Dale’s sheets. We don’t know how he got this gash, but we suspect he’s been in a fight with another animal. He loves to go on little adventures outside for long periods of time, so it was bound to happen sooner or later. Mom and Dale are currently vacationing in New Mexico and won’t be back until Thursday night, so it was up to me and James to take care of Ozzy-Pie.

We had the elderly cutie-kitty taken to a 24-hour emergency animal hospital in Silverdale. He cried the entire drive over and we couldn’t blame him. Going to the hospital is no fun for an animal, especially if draining abscesses is on the agenda. The good news is, the doctors were able to clear it out and disinfect it without much incident. The rest is up to me and James.

Ozzy will have to have his wound wiped out regularly, he’ll have to take antibiotic pills covered in Spam, and he’ll have to have liquid painkillers injected into his mouth. So far, so good. He likes the Spam and wasn’t too resistant to the pills or the water that had to be injected afterwards. I haven’t given him his painkillers yet, but I trust that’ll go smoothly too. The treatment will last for a whole week, but I think we’re going to make him a permanent indoor kitty from now on, lest he gets attacked again.

Being a good animal parent to Ozzy and the rest of our fur babies is more important to me right now than getting creative work done. I was frantic the whole time I was preparing to give him his medicine, because I thought it was going to be harder than it needed to be. Turns out it was painless. Just seven more days and he’ll have to go back to the vet for a follow-up. I can do this. Ozzy will get better. I know he will!

If you want to leave your well wishes for our elderly kitty baby, you can do so in the comments section. Even though he’s not capable of checking internet posts, I’m sure he’ll appreciate it. I’m Garrison Kelly! Even when you feel like dying, keep climbing the mountain!

Goodbye Maggie

***GOODBYE MAGGIE***

Tomorrow afternoon, Dale and I are going to the vet to put our dog Maggie to sleep. She has lived to be sixteen years old, much older than normally expected for her breed. During the final moments of those sixteen years, she’s had a litany of health problems that justify euthanasia. She was blind, deaf, weak, incontinent, physically unstable, and an all around sick dog. She’s constantly in pain and there’s only so much we can do for her before having to make this ultimate decision.

Maggie came into my life in 2005 when her owner, Dale, married my mom in his original home state of Wyoming. She was accompanied by another Springer Spaniel dog named Molly. The two of them would bounce, play, and wrestle happily together all the time. Maggie’s favorite toy was a blue ball that she would fetch while Molly’s was a leather Frisbee. I’ll always remember Maggie and Molly getting in a tug-of-war over the Frisbee and Molly would get an unfair advantage by shaking her head.

Three years ago on Father’s Day, Molly passed away due to lung cancer and it was a death that hit all of us hard, especially Dale. Three years later, here we are again in the month of June having to watch Molly’s adopted sister Maggie be put to sleep. Sixteen years. Sixteen fucking years and it’s all over. Given her declining health, it was a foregone conclusion, but that doesn’t soften the blow that our family will no doubt feel.

There isn’t a whole lot left to say except for goodbye to our elderly ray of puppy sunshine. Rest in peace, Saggy-Maggie. You will be missed dearly.

***LYRICS OF THE DAY***

“If they say who cares if one more light goes out? In a sky of a million stars, it flickers, flickers. Who cares when someone’s time runs out? If a moment is all we are, we’re quicker, quicker. Who cares if one more light goes out? Well, I do.”

-Linkin Park singing “One More Light”-

"A Day in the Life of Marlon Bundo" by Jill Twiss

BOOK TITLE: A Day in the Life of Marlon Bundo

AUTHOR: Jill Twiss

YEAR: 2018

GENRE: Fiction

SUBGENRE: LGBT Children’s Book

GRADE: Extra Credit

In the stuffiest room in the white house, there lived Marlon Bundo, a lovable bunny rabbit whose grandpa is the dull and boring Vice President Mike Pence. Feeling lonely in his little room, Marlon hops out into the garden and meets another beautiful male bunny named Wesley. The two rabbits fall in love and decide to get married so that they can hop everywhere forever. The only thing stopping them is the strict rule of Mr. Stink Bug (an obvious Mike Pence parody), who says that boy bunnies can only marry girl bunnies. Only when the creatures of the garden come together for a democratic vote can Marlon and Wesley show Mr. Stink Bug that love trumps hate.

If you’re a regular viewer of Last Week Tonight with John Oliver like I am, you’ll know exactly why this book was published: to screw with hard-right homophobe Mike Pence. Anytime that the LGBT community gets to shine its brightest colors is a good day for the world at large. There’s too much bullying and hatred against these poor folks, so any victory they achieve in the name of social justice should be celebrated. What better way to celebrate than with a cute and cuddly gay wedding between two sweethearted bunny-pies?

Speaking of things that are cute and cuddly, that’s another aspect of this book that will earn critical acclaim. Your smile will get bigger and goofier when you see Wesley and Marlon hopping around together like sweet little bunnies should. The other garden animals from the puppy-duppy to the turtle will also steal your heart. And then when the wedding finally happens, you’ve got little mice and porcupines dressed up in their Sunday best, which always looks adorable. You’ll be saying “aww” throughout the entire book. Not even the inner ugliness of Mr. Stink Bug will ruin your experience because once again, love trumps hate and his hateful ways won’t last forever.

So now that we’ve got our LGBT pride and cuteness nailed down, the only other thing to discuss is how important democracy is, since it plays a vital role in the book’s ending. I know there are times when democracy seems dead as a doornail. I know we don’t always like our choices between candidates. I know the people in power like to make voting difficult for the less fortunate. I know it seems like elections can be bought and sold like Wal-Mart goodies. But just like in this book, the power of your vote is more urgent now than it has ever been. If you don’t vote, the Mr. Stink Bugs of the world will.

One hundred percent of the profits from this book will be donated to LGBT charities specializing in suicide prevention and AIDS research. Even if you don’t have children of your own, you’ll still enjoy this book to its fullest extent for all of the reasons I’ve listed above. If on the other hand you do have children, let them know that being different is okay and should be celebrated rather than feared. Nobody is truly alone in this world despite the negative pressure dictating otherwise. An extra credit grade will go to this beautifully crafted book with a positive message and cuddly characters.

Don't Wake the Baby

VERSE 1

Dreaming of scratches behind her ears

Sleeping on my bed for the rest of her years

Such a sweet little fuzzy lady

Shh! Don’t wake the baby!

VERSE 2

Dreaming of a buffet table of tuna fish

A quart of milk in her favorite dish

Is this reality? Well, just maybe

Shh! Don’t wake the baby!

VERSE 3

Dreaming of gentle warmth from the heater

Drooling like a fountain, her dreams get sweeter

A kitty kiss on the cheek is what she gave me

Shh! Don’t wake the baby!

FINAL VERSE

Waking up to a brand new day

Only to fall asleep again anyways

She needs every hour of beauty rest

Her forever home is truly the best

She gives me the biggest goofy grin

Every time I scratch her under the chin

She purrs like the sweetest kitty lady

Shh! Don’t wake the baby!

Dog Fucker

CHORUS 1

When you kill a human being, it drives me mad

When you kill an animal, it’s twice as bad

Dog fucker!

Dog fucker!

VERSE 1

A sodomite with a bully’s might

You came to kill in the dead of night

Rape and torture are your tools of trade

Cutting your victims with an iron blade

Your latest kill was a sexual thrill

Man’s best friend now lies down still

The blood on your dick is so damn sick

Now the murder charge is going to stick

CHORUS 2

When you kill a human being, it’s a lifelong curse

When you kill an animal, it’s ten times worse

Dog fucker!

Dog fucker!

VERSE 2

Now you find yourself in a tight corner

Locked up in a cage by the judge’s order

Your new cell mate has a bone to pick

It’s in his pants and it’s called his dick

Knowing the rape of the innocent puppy

Is vicious and violent, not soft and loving

Pornographic passion, metal bunk thrashing

It’s Marvel Comics and Hulk is smashing

CHORUS 3

Murdering a human is a mortal sin

Murdering a dog makes you the devil’s kin

Dog fucker!

Dog fucker!

VERSE 3

Revenge is a fantasy played out in cinema

It’s eating us alive and damn near killing us

But goddamn, it’s so easy to get pissed

Punishment is more than a slap on the wrist

I tried to be nice, friendly, and forgiving

But you’ve stolen that dog from the living

I’ve got furry friends chilling on my couch

Go near them and you’ll be screaming “Ouch!”

LULLABY ENDING

Lullaby and goodnight

You know it’s not right

Close your eyes and start to smile

You’ll be going away for a while

When the dawn lights the sky

You can hear your victims cry

Start your day with a smile

No one believes your guile