“Chief, I got a witness who gave me a credible lead,” he said to a rather big man who wore suspenders over a white shirt and had a bolo tie drawn partially down to allow his top button to be opened. I sniffed his cotton trousers; he owns a poodle and a cat. He drinks coffee and just ate a donut. I was also getting hungry and so I sniffed the air for those same donuts.
During the night I roamed the bigger house. I was in a room Detective Mike called a pantry where cans of food were stored, and a blanket was set on the tiled floor. It was hard and reminded me of the doghouse I slept in at Master Bob’s house. I sniff everything. Her scent is everywhere on everything in the kitchen, the living room, and their bedroom.
I awoke at darkness time. Master Bob’s dark form laid there as it had since I fell asleep. My sadness deepened. I licked his face. It was cold and stiff. I felt hungry and thirsty. I walked around the darkened house, my night sight seeing everything in a grayish tone. I went by his bedroom across the hall from the bathroom and saw the curtain moving from a breeze. Well, that is interesting.
Boomer, Boomer Ang, Boomer, Boomerang. I love that name I love that name because it is my name because I love to wag my furry tail back and forth like a boomerang! Or is that a yo-yo? It’s okay because I am a happy dog with not a care in the world.
Life is generally fickle. It is how you live your life that matters most.
Death is always sudden and final, though all believe that somehow our spirit will continue long after our earthly body has decomposed and gone.
I reckon it’s a crap shoot, like anything else one invests their heart and soul into. I have worked hard to get this book into the hands of loyal readers than anything else I’ve done before. Maybe this literary agent is the godsend I’ve been looking for and everything will finally be fruitful for myself and future books yet to be published.
Someday this will be a best seller. My wife arrived with the camper at the new property we just bought. For the last two months she had her own idea of what she wanted done on the place, starting with the cargo containers she wanted and where she wanted them for her own designs, which as I mentioned in an earlier blog was neither realistic nor legal …
I am sipping on my coffee looking for something to write about when the thought struck me to write on last night’s concert at Northern Quest where I work. It was Lynyrd Skynyrd, a southern rock band from the early to mid-seventies until a plane crash in 1977 took out a majority of the original members.
My loyal readers, I have no real history breaking news or antidotes of world leaders to share this week, just my craft which, as many of you know is a passion I will most likely continue to my last breath.
As if pried from a cockney accented newsboy in the heart of London, “Hear ye Hear ye, the Queen is dead, long live the King.” After seventy years Britain’s Queen Elizabeth the second, passed at her summer estate in Balmoral in the Scottish highlands.