[BRINDLEKIN TALES – Book 2: Chapter 18]
Subject: Adorable Kitty Gif Animation!
From: Zeke Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: February 21, 2021 2:14 PM
With all this doggy stuff I’m throwing at you, I thought it only fair to interject this sweet little gif at this time…seeing as your love for cats is so intense, Dr. Wattson!
http://www.gay-bible.org/blogstuff/2021A/nirvana-kitty-gif.mp4
Re: Adorable Kitty GIF Animation!
From: My Dear Wattson
To: Zeke Krahlin
Date: February 21, 2021 2:58 PM
Here’s my little Butterball Beast, assisting me while I slave over a hot keyboard:
Re: Adorable Kitty GIF Animation!
From: Zeke Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: February 21, 2021 4:18 PM
Sweet pic: the author at her desk, while her cat secretary clicks on spellcheck to guide her along. Adorable little paws…I love doggy and kitty paws!
Re: Adorable Kitty GIF Animation!
From: Zeke Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: February 21, 2021 4:08 PM
I know. Their innocent little paws.
Flaco usually lies down next to me on the cot, while I’m typing away with keyboard in lap. After some while, she’ll often plunk a paw on my knee. Not lightly place it there, but apply a solid “plunk!” As if to check in with me, make sure I’m okay, that she loves me and, because of that, I have nothing to worry about. I stop then, to give her plenty of hugs and kisses, which she so much favors. Putty in my hands…that’s how much she adores and trusts me! Sometimes when I stand by the cot, smiling down, she’ll raise herself up on hind legs and place those dainty paws upon my thighs: one paw for each leg. Then I’ll hunker over her, hold her in my hands and gently tilt her backwards, whereby she’ll just plop on her back and onto the bedding, legs stuck up in the air while I rub her belly. And sometimes when we sleep, I hold one of the dogs’ sweet paws in my hand.
She also likes to STAND on my lap (paws on my chest or shoulders) facing me while she gazes directly into my eyes with unconditional affection. During this time, she’ll sometimes raise a paw and press it right upon my cheek, lips, nose or eyeball! She’d keep it there, too, if I don’t gingerly remove it…but sometimes I grin and bear it. I chuckle whenever she does that, as she means no harm; it’s just another endearing way she shows love.
When posed thusly, she occasionally starts licking my face (or even my bald pate and ears) with one paw firmly pressing down on my visage. She even licks my eyelids! Fortunately, she never sticks her tongue up my nostrils, like some tiny pups do. She’s like a doggy dermatologist giving me her professional skin-care treatment. Especially sweet is when she sniffs about my ear, little chuffs and huffs from her pointy schnoz as it examines by scent, both the perimeter and contents of my ear. This gives me shivery tickles up and down my spine! Then, when she zeroes in on a spot she deems needful of her attentive tongue, goes at it with dainty, focused licks. She’ll pause now and then for several seconds, in order to reset her olfactory radar before resuming or moving on to another location.
Then there are times she’ll stretch out on my chest while I’m lying down, sometimes facing me, sometimes settled towards my feet…and be very still as she gazes straight ahead, front legs pointing forward. At such moments she is the Sphinx and I am Egypt.
Flaco often intrudes herself upon me, when I’m giving Lucky his hugs. She’ll squeeze herself into my embrace with much strength, shoving Lucky away by the force of Newton’s Second Law of Motion alone. Or if Lucky’s on the cot and I’m rubbing his belly, she’ll immediately rush over and PLOP herself right on top of him, as if that made him suddenly vanish! But Lucky doesn’t mind; he loves his sister and allows her these momentary bouts of jealousy. He’ll either just lie there patiently, under her weight, or move to another part of the bed without any resentment whatsoever. Of course, I make it up to him shortly thereafter, or rearrange my arms so that BOTH pups receive my kind attentions in such a way that Flaco couldn’t possibly sabotage us any further. During such bouts of competition for my affection, neither mutt growls or shows anxiety in any other fashion. Just as they never fight over food, but gladly share with the other.
But Lucky often gets back at her for such antics; he’ll grab her tail or a hind leg firmly, and yank on it until she jumps off my lap or from my embrace and start yapping it him. Whereby they end up play-fighting and romping about the cot.
Lucky’s chunky little paws are exquisite to behold…along with those stubby legs they’re attached to! Such beautiful, muscular curves from shoulder down to the ankles, ending in those remarkable paws. Lucky is a hunky bundle of cuteness; there is not one square inch of him that does NOT radiate cuteness. But the paws really are the brindle frosting on the cake!
- Zeke K-Holmes
Re: Adorable Kitty GIF Animation!
From Zeke Krahlin
To My Dear Wattson
Date: February 21, 2021 4:57 PM
People who don’t nuzzle and cuddle and canoodle with dogs or cats don’t know what they’re missing.
So true!
This kitten likes to leap up onto my back when I’m bending over the sink brushing my teeth; then she curls around my neck and puts her purring, vibrating furry nose into my ear. How well I know those shivers!
An exquisite delight, this bonding with a loving creature. I just took an amazing pic of Lucky.
Sleeping with the doggies is a piece of Avalon, right here on earth! They just radiate kindness and joy while nuzzled up against me…as if I were their greatest happiness. I love it when they get up at night for a moment, to rearrange themselves, as they always drop firmly upon me, like a friendly dead weight, and slide into position against this or that part of my body: the back, a leg, a foot, an arm, the chest or my head. And they never gripe whenever I need to reposition myself; they just go with the flow, simply blissed out to share their doggy dreams with THIS lucky human. Lucky is surely the right name for this pup! Just as Surely is lucky to have you and Erwin!
- Zeke K-Holmes
Subject: I Discovered a Safe Place for the Pups to Exercise!
From: Zeke Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: February 23, 2021 11:25 PM
My Dear Dr. Wattson:
(I was in the middle of composing the following email to you, when Deek and the two police officers called up to my window, with the sad result of my having to give up the pups. This will compose the final chapter of Brindlekin Tales, with our email exchanges aBOUT my surrender wrapping it all up. Ironically, I planned to call my next chapter “Easing Into Nirvana,” with this letter included. I have decided to KEEP that title, and the chapter should be released shortly. Anyway: once the confrontation was over, I returned hovel to finish this piece. So here it is.)
I discovered it just six days ago, as we strolled through a different neighborhood about five blocks from my residence. I’ve started going there about a week ago for our nightly walks, because highly unlikely to have run-ins with effed-up, noisy crazies or just the usual, dumb and rude troglodytes. So yesterday, I finally stumbled upon a sort of cul-de-sac composed of dirt, grass, bushes and several large, shady trees…and is large enough for two little doggies to have a rollicking good time!
It’s around fifty feet long and forty wide…and is actually a short but wide alley leading to a children’s playground that is fenced off. No one ever seems to go there, not even dog owners; and the pooches cannot unexpectedly disappear from my sight, because the cyclone-fence gate is shut, and no part of it has any gap through which they might slip. It’s also lit up at night, and in a very lovely, peaceful neighborhood…so what’s not to like?
To get there, we have to hike up a steep, wide hill on the other side of Castro Street…the part where it diverges into Divisadero, and is actually outside of the district. It’s a wider, busier thoroughfare than the rest of Castro Street, and extends north above Market Street for three blocks until merging into Divisadero. But, thanks to the Pandemic, it’s not even very busy during the day, and a ghost town by late evening! All of a ten-minute walk to arrive at our newfound doggy park! Here they are chasing after each other in circles, having a grand time of it:
So rewarding, to release them from their master’s hand, and watch them romp about, running in circles from one side to another, play-attacking and sniffing freely about! They didn’t even bark once…just had a delightful time snorting at each other and imaginary shadows. Even better: when they had their fill of exercise (a brief five minutes or so), they happily returned to me when I called them over and clicked their leashes back on. This morning I decided to check it out during the daytime, but we went up a different street one block further north, which turned out to be a dead end.
But what a lovely dead end it was! Beautiful Edwardian homes all lined up like out of a fairy tale, thick with huge, leafy oaks, and a wide, slanted slope on the north side, covered in thick grass and trees that abutted against another cyclone fence demarcating an elementary school. Though it was silent: no children laughing and hollering, no teachers’ commands…no sounds at all to indicate it was open for business.
I examined this slope that extended over a block in length and about fifteen feet wide and–while quite slanted by almost sixty degrees–it was still viable for my diminutive quadrupeds. In fact, even a biped such as myself, could manage to stroll through the shady, green berm, though with care. It was separated from the sidewalk by a thick, concrete ledge that gradually increased in height from this end where we stood, starting ’round two feet to almost four by the time it reached the corner end. I decided to rest my butt on the ledge, while deciding whether or not to let them run off-leash. I signaled to the brindlekin to hop up on the ledge: Flaco readily did so, but, as Lucky hesitated in doubt, there suddenly appeared out of nowhere, this forty-something fellow and his large but elderly German shepherd, standing but two feet away! (WTF…why do these surprise and unwelcome encounters keep happening to me? Not a single warning, not even a little sound to reach the ear! Deek’s surprise abduction, crazy man accusing my pups of being “killer dogs,” strangers rushing up, unbidden, to pet the dogs w/o first asking, but so quickly as to be impossible to pull them away, thus they madly bark with hackles raised…and on and on it goes. These mutts are street-wise, not raised in a loving home where they grow up to believe every human is friendly…they know better!)
At their appearance (which neither Lucky nor Flaco seemed to notice, either, until it was too late to move ourselves out of annoyance’s way), the pooches started to bark, though not so wildly as they’ve done before when they espy another canine’s approach. Flaco’s leash somehow slid my hand, whereby she ran up to the owner and kept yapping, though from a safe distance. Lucky, however, remained standing beside me, and did NOT pull forward on the leash. It was obvious at that point, that no fight or harm would ensue, as the shepherd remained calm, along with the owner. I finally reclaimed Flaco’s leash to pull her back, and apologized:
“Sorry ’bout that, but I adopted them off the street and they’re still learning not to get excited about every little thing.”
“That’s alright,” the man kindly replied, then escorted his own dog to the several steps that lead to the idyllic berm, and released it to wander through the greenery, while he walked towards Castro Street, parallel to the shepherd’s own, slow gait. Don’t know why he didn’t first give me a friendly warning about their approach. Especially bothersome, since I was about to unleash my OWN doggies for a romp in the shrubs. But some good things came out of this encounter:
For one, this further affirms that my pooches are definitely NOT biters in any way, shape or form. For two, the man’s directing his shepherd to stroll along the slanted berm showed me that, yes, it would be perfectly fine for my own canines to do so. Ergo, he was just another bodhisattva who suddenly appeared to show me, through action instead of words, two important aspects of my muttly venture. Turns out he lives just across the street, BTW.
Once they departed, I released Lucky & Flaco to explore the copse. But they contained their little exploits right along the ledge, running back and forth for a length of twenty feet or so…IOW, remaining nearby. In her glee, Flaco leapt from a higher part of the ledge and onto the concrete with a “thunk,” as she fell on her side. Not the least bit dismayed, she promptly attempted to hop onto the berm again, tail wagging in crazy joy…but tumbled backwards on her brindle butt. Lucky quickly followed suit with the same, clumsy result. Not wishing injury upon themselves from euphoric mishap, I intervened by guiding them back to the low end, and up the steps where they could easily resume their advemtire. And walked behind them, to prevent any further spectacular plummets to the sidewalk. They got the point and didn’t do it again. Instead, they’d return to the steps, where they could either walk down them, or carom off the lowest section. What speedy learners they are!
[Gracious reader: all of what was writ above, occurred before I had to return the pups to Deek, tonight, February 23, 2021. Sorry to shock you like this; it certainly was NOT expected at all by yours truly! But allow me to complete this piece, ending this chapter with the episode wherein I had no choice but to give them up.]
Now get this, Wattson: I stumbled upon a SECOND “secret” spot I discovered just yesterday, that is barely two blocks from the first, and even MORE green and idyllic. It’s on the opposite side of the tennis court, which abuts that playground. Here’s a quick video scan:
And here’s our walk on the way to Spot #2…I love how Lucky kicks up his chunky legs after relieving himself! Notice they have new harnesses, which just arrived from Amazon last night:
And two videos of them getting their “exercise,” which, sad to say, is just mostly sniffing about and exporing the new environ. Well, when they DO run around they don’t bark at all, except maybe at a bird or two. And they return promptly when I call them to snap the leashes back on:
They are also rarely noisy at all in my hovel: a bark here or there, including whenever Flaco demands my attention. But that’s more a “grrr” that builds up into an adamant yap, if I take too long to show attention. Then there are the fire engines and ambulances with their shrieking sirens…but they don’t start howling until (and only until) they get really close, and prolonged.
And a couple nights ago, this dog started whining loudly outside. Turned out she was locked in a vehicle, with the window halfway down. She’s a Siberian husky that belongs to the Hohokum smoke shop below. Lucky & Flaco raised their ears, ran to the window to look out (standing on their hind legs), but barely made noise themselves. The just returned to the cot and its plush bedding as I pecked away on the keyboard. You will be glad to know that, less than a minute later, a smoke shop clerk removed the husky from its tight quarters, and hitched her up to a parking meter, where she quieted down.
They used to dance about my legs whenever I delivered another meal to their dining spot…but these days, they don’t budge an inch off that cozy bed until I place the dishes on the floor. I guess I’ve spoiled them rotten. Here’s a pic of them awaiting their next repast, as I prepare their usual kibble with gravy-blend canned food and some ground up duck breast treats:
So blasé about the whole food thing, any more! But they’re eating well, regardless. Often, one or the other doggy isn’t hungry at the moment, but eventually gets around to it, even if an hour or two late.
Flaco likes to knock over the waste basket the moment I step out. Before I even put the key in the lock before departing, I usually hear it plop sideways to the floor! Now, I keep nothing in there that will do harm, or even be a mess to clean up. Upon returning, I just chuckle and say, “Oh no, not again!” And they both wag their tails with innocent delight. Why impose anxiety upon harmless fun? So I started placing the basket upon the sink before stepping out. Unfortunately, that didn’t work out either, as you can see in this pic:
So now I place it atop one of the stacked storage bins. But not sure if THAT will be a solution in the long run, either, as she HAS jumped onto that bin a few times before. Well, we’ll just have to wait and see.
Did you know that chickweed is all over the city, and dogs love nibbling on it, AND it’s healthy for them? Several days ago, I decided to take a snapshot of this plant, to discover what it is, and why dogs love it:
I got my answer on Reddit, that it looks like chickweed. The image matches perfectly, pictures of it on the web. And here’s an article about dogs and chickweed:
https://yourolddog.com/chickweed-benefits-for-dogs/
Now, onto another subject altogether:
Here is a video of Myrtle’s son, Adisa, teaching his young friend how to kickbox, right below my window. It isn’t just his macho posturing, and that it’s right out there in the public arena disturbing the peace and quality of life…but notice that neither is wearing a mask:
Subject: I GAVE THE PUPS BACK TO DEEK!
From: Zeke Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: February 23, 2021 10:12 PM
Police came over with Deek, who stood halfway down the street while I talked with the cops. They showed me a paper from the SPCA, with one dog, Lucky, in his name. Had I held onto the pups any longer, I’d run the risk of a criminal charge…and our verbal contract recorded on my smartphone would probably NOT go over in court. I had no choice. A sad day this is!
So I brought the doggies back downstairs and into the lobby, with Lucky playfully nipping at my heels, and Flaco looking up at me with so much affection. Then I handed them over to the officers, and told them the leashes and collars are my gift. One said thank you, that’s very kind.
But I am determined to hold strong, in faith of my good karma and conscience, that somehow they will return to me…preferably through Deek’s hands, though I don’t really want to see him again, ever. Thus flips another page.
- Zeke K-Holmes
Re: I GAVE THE PUPS BACK TO DEEK!
From: Zeke Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: February 23, 2021 10:24 PM
Oh, no, no, no! That FUCKING asshole!! How could the cops have facilitated this?? I’m shocked and outraged. The pups will be in danger. Flaco will be impregnated. It’s a disaster.
Yep, it’s a tragedy. And on top of that, certain people in my building will gloat. One of the cops said there is not just the dog’s welfare to be concerned about, but Deek’s as well. And he may need them as therapy. (Right, “therapy” in the form of abject neglect, cruelty, and violence upon the doggos, to release his pent up, meth-induced anxieties.) And that his abusive acts still give me no right to claim ownership…it’s a civil complaint, and I’ll need to report him to Animal Control. Well, this is total bullshit, because I know the “authorities” won’t lift a finger. I’d need photographs, witnesses, and other proof…all impossible to achieve.
This is a case where the cops can’t intervene, because a civil issue. I AM shocked that, with all of Deek’s sloppiness with losing papers, ID and everything else, that he actually HAD registered Lucky. He didn’t Flaco, but what’s the point in demanding I keep her? She loves her brother. Maybe I made a mistake in not doing so. This is a Great Test of Faith for me, to not cave in to remorse, regret, or despondence. Or even hatred. They WILL come back to me, some how, some way…even though at this time I don’t see how that could ever happen. Life has shown me that it IS fair and just, and that those who clearly understand this (which I do now, after all the incredible scenarios I’ve been through since late October) have an OBLIGATION to NOT obsess over negative emotions or horrid outcomes. Things WILL work out.
Nonetheless, this is OBVIOUSLY the final chapter of Brindlekin Tales. Let us hope Book 2 will soon emerge, with Flaco & Lucky back in my arms…and with Deek in a much better situation, both physically and mentally. FYI: I’ve composed this entire reply while hearing Lucky’s sweet barks in the distance, probably at the corner of Market & Castro. I thought to bring a couple of blankets out to Deek, but decided against that.
Your comrade in arms,
Ezekiel J. Krahlin-Holmes
Subject: Now i Wish I Had Thought This Through
From: Zeke Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: February 24, 2021 3:44 AM
That was a forgery, Wattson! Zach has well-to-do friends with roofs over their heads, running scam operations up the wazoo. They could have easily duplicated an SPCA form. One of the cops asked if I called them, to find out if Lucky were registered in his name. But I already tried that, and no one picks up the phone, and they don’t have voice mail.
The light was dim outside, and I didn’t have my reading glasses, so I didn’t really peruse the form he held out to me, other than seeing the official SPCA letterhead. But if I ran back upstairs to get my glasses, so I could examine the contract thoroughly, how could I tell whether or not it was forged? I doubt the peacekeepers would’ve taken kindly to that! Don’t you think it odd that, with his slovenly nature, failure to keep papers, tickets, ID or any other sort of item (he even keeps losing ten and twenty dollar bills he loosely pockets), he somehow manages to present the police with a fresh, clean copy of an SPCA registration? Be that as it may:
All these scenarios I’ve been through, like running the gauntlet, are too hokey to be anything BUT contrived. This is more like an initiaton into a secret society–where I’m getting hazed for a period of time–than it is any sort of malicious action. Deek is in on it, the cops are in on it, Arwyn is in on it (indeed, I surmise he is the playwright himself), and Hera only knows who ELSE is in on it. Donald J. Trump?
One twist in the plot after another since October 30th…and most certainly, Deek’s Pyrrhic victory is NOT the LAST twist! Surely, my turn shall come around again, soon enough. These are bodhisattvas PLAYING with me, and nothing more. All I need do is…
NOTHING.
Just relax, have faith in the good, and things shall unravel in my favor. If I am correct, Deek has done not a single mean thing to the pups; just acts like that in front of me. And the doggies seem completely affable, indicating he’s actually very good to them when offstage. If there’s one thing I’ve learned from these remarkable scenarios of recent vintage, it’s this:
THERE IS NOTHING TO WORRY ABOUT. NOT EVER!
And that, My Dear Wattson, is the key to solving ALL mysteries. My charade of appearing brilliantly deductive is merely a cloak to conceal that simple truth. That by playing detective, I may find SOME excitement in my life between injections of my “silver bullet,” when Pterry Pterodactyl appears once more to take me on my next paranormal joy ride of high stakes and cutting edge ectoplasmic forensics.
For it seems to me that the Blue Rose Militia, the world’s first LGBT militia I proposed via cyberspace way back in 1997, actually DOES exist. As a secret society, still, possibly under the leadership of one Arwyn Miles…though Randolph Taylor may be in on it too, as I strongly suspect. I even described it as a “ParaNormalMilitary” organization in my original essay, which anyone can read here:
http://gay-bible.org/write/4_militia.htm
I’ve conjectured about this often, over the years (that the Blue Rose Militia exists), including here on Google Groups:
https://groups.google.com/g/soc.bi/c/ytwfCUi_BvY
And on my gay-bible.org website, if you use the built-in search function for “blue rose militia,” you’ll get 38 results in return!
Click here to see for yourself!
Deek is, I’m sure, a longstanding member of my militia. And to begin his clever charade of nine-plus years, disguised himself as a homeless waif and began pushing a shopping cart through the Castro, on sidewalks where he knew I’d most likely appear. And of course, it worked.
How many are actually reading my WordPress blog, that I don’t know about? The service DOES tally the numbers…but I surmise that the Blue Rose Militia has many superb hackers in its ranks that could easily find ways around that, to conceal their views. A simple technique to accomplish that is to have just ONE soldier load my latest blog entry, then download it to his system, whereby he can email a copy of it en masse. Well, it’s very late now, 3:43 AM…so it’s time for me to hit the sack and, this time, sad to say, without my lovely brindlekin.
- Zeke K-Holmes
Re: Now i Wish I Had Thought This Through
From: Zeke Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: February 24, 2021 12:44 PM
I agree that the papers must have been forged.
Of course they were. The SPCA doesn’t use high security documents…just easy-to-duplicate printouts.
I like your attitude toward all of this, but I’m still very worried. About you, and about the pups.
Thanks, but worry doesn’t accomplish anything constructive, it just wears people down. I am not worried about either the pups, or myself. I may not understand how things will work out in my (and the doggies’) favor, but they most assuredly will. (And for Deek, too.) After all, have not these extraordinary adventures I’ve been going through since late October, taught me one thing more than anything else? TO NOT WORRY ABOUT A THING, ALL SHALL BE RESOLVED, AND WITH COMPASSION FOR EVERYONE INVOLVED.
I can conjecture any number of ways that wrongs shall be righted, but surprising twists and outcomes are part of this board game I call “Battle of the Bodhisattvas.” The ironic implication OF that title, is that bodhisattvas don’t EVER go to war, or even fight…that is, not in the mundane sense. They ACTUATE scenarios guaranteed to lead to happy resolutions, even if they don’t appear that way at the beginning, or in the middle, of the game. Any actual “battles” they perform, are mere intermission dressing between players’ rounds. But I’ll tell you this, my good doctor:
I certainly know the WRONG way to deal with such tragic crises is not just through worrying, but through fantasizing a morbid outcome for one who plays your enemy. Not that you would LOSE the battle in so doing, but it makes for a miserable gameplay for your OWN wronged self. And what is the point of that? SHOULD a bad outcome ensue for your (perceived) enemy’s malicious action, that is the mandate of Kismet, and not one you hold any sway over. Nor should you be gleeful about that, either. Some people who’ve lost a loved one to homicide actually FORGIVE the criminal…which is precisely the RIGHT thing to do.
Nonetheless, it’s perfectly fine to retain disgust over someone who’s done you wrong…just don’t let that emotion control your behavior. If you can’t stand to SEE that person, avoid him or her as best you can. Which is what I now do with Kevin, our building manager. And if you should lose a round or two (or even more) in this board game, and your opponents mock and deride you…give them no mind. For the game is NOT yet over, with surprising twists and turns still ahead.
But yes, I AM grief stricken and angered over the injustice that has been done to me and those innocent brindlekin. I do not pretend otherwise. Yet it is these lessons of FAITH I have recently experienced, that give me the upper hand, and a firm grip on the wheel, no matter how rough the storm. A compassionate resolution MUST be how the game ends…and that includes for Deek, as well.
I have no idea what comes next, which way the dice will roll, which card will be played, or which piece my opponent will move. As for yours truly: I decided to throw in my Surrender Card, in response to a second visit by the SFPD. It is a move that often has hidden powers, of which even the one who played it, does not know WHICH powers that may be, until two or three moves forward on the board. It is a somewhat unpredictable hand to play, but usually grants its possessor considerable leeway and opportunity, should that player neither panic nor gloat before the results manifest.
True love and kindness have a way of reaching out beyond space and time…and that is how it is with the pooches. They have my infinite, unconditional love and I have theirs. And it is just this power that overrides ALL obstacles, no matter the odds. So the most WINNING attitude of all, is to know this in your heart so rightfully, that you already celebrate your momentous victory-to-be in the name of all that is good and just. And that, my dear Wattson, is the way of the bodhisattva!
There may be something immediately beneficial coming out of my pups’ disappearance (assuming, of course, they are perfectly happy and fine anywhere else; which I believe to be true), which is:
I will no longer have ugly confrontations with Kevin, and his aspersions thereof…at least, as regards the dogs. He will come to realize on his own, that the pups are NO LONGER HERE, because I have absolutely NO intention of informing him myself. Let him stew in his own, skanky juices. And the false accusation that Myrtle’s son Adis was bitten, now rings more hollow than ever! So it may be for the best that Lucky & Flaco are gone for now, as they then can’t be taken away by some city agency per Kevin’s managerial order.
What will I say to the few others who’ve admired the pups, and my adoption of them? I think, perhaps, it’s best right now to just say they’re currently at a friend’s home with a backyard. Dieter (long term resident with a wheelchair due to bad knees), though, has been so kind to me and the doggies, deserves to know the truth…he’ll understand. However, he DOES talk with Kevin at times, so maybe I’ll hold back.
Morey, however, I COULD discuss this with…he’s the one who clerks at the corner store two blocks up Noe Street…and has often expressed kudos over how well I take care of Lucky & Flaco. And he WAS open to my suggestion of a secret society putting me through an initiation of sorts, and my proposal years ago of forming the Blue Rose Militia, the world’s first and still only GAY militia…which I believe IS that covert cabal. “You never know,” he kindly said, “Anything’s possible!” And that, after my mentioning that Deek may also be one such acolyte!
So I may have more allies than I realize. Actually, around here, even ONE true ally would be fantastic. I believe that he or she IS out there…along with hundreds, perhaps thousands, of others, though hidden even to me, for awhile longer. And, if so, they read ALL my Brindlekin Tales and know exactly what’s going down this very moment. Some of them even play my enemy, as I have iterated often in these tales that demonstrate my Bodhisattva Premise. Such as Deek, or Arwyn, or the building manager, and so on. This suggests that I really HAVE no enemies, just tough taskmasters. For as the Buddha once put it: “We have no enemies, only teachers.”
Right now I’m in the middle of my breakfast as I type this out. Newspapers remain strewn across the floor, that I freshly laid down yesterday, and the brand new harnesses which they’ve only worn once so far, remain atop a storage bin. I just don’t have the heart to remove them; I doubt I ever will. I still expect to see them snoozing on my cozy cot whenever I turn around in that direction…especially at night, because of shadows and my aging eyes specked with floaters. And I sometimes absentmindedly reach out to pet them, while at my work station. I don’t think THAT will ever go away, either. Nor do I want it to.
Yours in fond friendship,
Ezekie J. Krahlin-Holmes
EPILOGUE
I realize that people love a GREAT story, especially one that makes them weep copiously. Thus, my bodhisattva teachers (or guardian angels, if you prefer) have seen fit to set things up that way…though very much against my wishes. For why should two, innocent little creatures be put in the middle of all this? I know they will miss me very much, and wonder why I abandoned them, and where am I? So if this final chapter doesn’t bring tears flowing down your cheeks and an ache in your heart…well, then, I’m at a loss. For I never PLANNED it that way. Nonetheless, I refuse to believe in a tragic ending to my Brindlekin Tales. Thus, there WILL be a Book 2, with a happy ending to boot!
For I know in my heart, these spirit guides are most compassionate, and have other plans in store for the pooches, myself, and even Deek. It is MY obligation to NOT bear malice towards him or anyone else, for he is ALSO a victim of this harsh world, and is incapable of appreciating the incredible sacrifices I’ve already made on his behalf, over a long span of nine years. But know I should rest confident that apparent wrongs shall right themselves in due time…and I believe it won’t be long from now, at all. It is ALSO my conjecture that the dogs will be perfectly fine through it all, some how and some way…even if I, myself, do not fully grasp how this could be. WORRY doesn’t do anyone (or any doggie) any good. And I am absolutely CERTAIN, after all the amazing adventures I’ve been through recently (extraordinary for anyone so blessed to experience, maybe one in a million), that dogs have angels watching over them, too. For it is the wisdom of the Buddha that advises us to remain centered, and never cave in to emotional extremes from either end of the spectrum. Be calm and at peace, no matter how rocky the circumstance…and you shall pass through any crisis with grace.
I was planning to include in this chapter, OTHER mini-episodes about the pooches, but it all now comes to a screeching, tragic halt. Thus ends Book 1 of Brindlekin Tales, on a very sad note. Now, before you close this book, allow me to leave you with a most gracious psalm from the Old Testament, which is numbered 91:
Whoever dwells in the shelter of the Most High
will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.
I will say of the Lord, “He is my refuge and my fortress,
my God, in whom I trust.”
Surely he will save you
from the fowler’s snare
and from the deadly pestilence.
He will cover you with his feathers,
and under his wings you will find refuge;
his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart.
You will not fear the terror of night,
nor the arrow that flies by day,
nor the pestilence that stalks in the darkness,
nor the plague that destroys at midday.
A thousand may fall at your side,
ten thousand at your right hand,
but it will not come near you.
You will only observe with your eyes
and see the punishment of the wicked.
If you say, “The Lord is my refuge,”
and you make the Most High your dwelling,
no harm will overtake you,
no disaster will come near your tent.
For he will command his angels concerning you
to guard you in all your ways;
they will lift you up in their hands,
so that you will not strike your foot against a stone.
You will tread on the lion and the cobra;
you will trample the great lion and the serpent.
“Because he loves me,” says the Lord, “I will rescue him;
I will protect him, for he acknowledges my name.
He will call on me, and I will answer him;
I will be with him in trouble,
I will deliver him and honor him.
With long life I will satisfy him
and show him my salvation.
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