The Final Chapter (part 19)

[BRINDLEKIN TALES – Book 3: Chapter 17s]

Subject: A Friendly Greet with the Building Manager
From: Zeke Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: August 8, 2021 12:25 PM

Just this morning, returning from Rosenberg’s with my java, I politely held the gate open for Kevin, and said “good morning.” He replied in kind, so I queried about the compost situation…told him I was careful walking down the stairs, to dispose of my week’s worth of food scraps. He explained that several steps need to be replaced, and the job should be done within two or three days. I gave him a hearty thank-you, and we went our separate ways.

So that was good: no sign of annoyance on his part; in fact, he came off amicably. I’m glad I had that moment to show kindness; it’s the little things that truly count. Meanwhile, I just found this article about Carl Jung and his take on Tarot cards.

– Zeke K-Holmes


Re: A Friendly Greet with the Building Manager
From: Zeke Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: August 8, 2021 4:03 PM

> I agree with Jung: we could predict the future if we fully understood the past. We would be able to know how things would culminate. Of course, such an ability would have to be factored in.

That ability seems to be an aspect of the creative force…and, probably, the result of a person having studied a subject in depth that deals with history, sociology, politics, anthropology or other interests that require extensive knowledge of the past. For it makes one more perceptive, thus able to make predictions based on previous cycles of the human story. Some are so good at it they come off as possessing psychic powers! Take Margaret Atwood’s “Handmaid’s Tale,” that so concisely foretold today’s horrific social eruptions. The same can be said for numerous other authors and great thinkers.

But since such a talent is more rare than common, it can be a curse for those so gifted, as Cassandra knew so well! I can certainly relate, as I seem to likewise possess that ability, to some extent…thanks to my lifelong dedication to sexual minorities and the homeless (plus other interests such as anthropology and world religions and mythologies). The antagonism from others less aware never stops! Though it DOES seem to be subsiding, finally…which is amazing in and of itself. You are also so gifted, being the creative muse you clearly are, good doctor.

But what I prognosticate is the BLOSSOMING of humanity (rather than its annihilation) during this time of fomenting turmoil, with a victorious transformation of LGBT rights leading the way. I can envision, in part, just HOW this will come about. The big picture shines clearly in my mind, though many pieces of the puzzle are not apparent, nor is the timeline as accurate as I’d like. I tend to predict things occurring sooner than they do, by years if not decades. But they DO come true, just in Kismet’s time and not my own.

What is so amazing about all this, is that behind LGBTs and leading THEM–as well as the entire race of homo sapiens–into this golden era is not some great statesman, earth shaking event, or even that blockbuster TV series “Rick and Morty,” but instead (and hold onto your seat):

two perfectly sweet little doggies.

– Zeke K-Holmes


Re: A Friendly Greet with the Building Manager
From: Zeke Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: August 8, 2021 5:15 PM

> “but instead (and hold onto your seat): two perfectly sweet little
> doggies.”
>
> I think it makes perfect sense!

I hate to break the news to you this way, Wattson, but you’re not normal.


Subject: A genuine smile in the Castro made my day!
From: Zeke Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: August 11, 2021 12:13 PM

Since the pandemic took off like a harridan, I ceased my morning coffee walks through the Castro, to simply return hovel. But yesterday morning when I stepped out of Rosenberg’s with java in hand, I decided to resume my neighborhood stroll, at least for one day. So I first crossed Market to reach the shady side of the street, as the weather was warming up and the piercing beams of Old Man Sol would otherwise be stabbing into my eye sockets like an ice pick. (I know: that was over-the-top dramatic, so suffice it to say I’m not a sun worshiper by any means.)

As I approached Castro Street and the tacky Chevron station that also sells cigarettes, sour coffee and cheap, packaged snacks, along came this mellow, large black dude with thick, curly black hair, and holding half a pizza flat with trinkets he found along the way. Obviously homeless, though of somewhat neat appearance and friendly demeanor. As I swerved to my right and by the curb to grant him easy passage, he suddenly beamed a bright smile at me and said, “Good morning, God bless you!”

Well that perked me up, so I turned back towards him and replied: “Thank you! Good morning and God bless you, too…you just made my day!” That was a genuine wish on his part, and it made me glow inside. As we each continued our strolls in opposite directions, I noticed that Subway sandwiches was boarded up and closed, and I wondered how long it’s been that way. Nonetheless, he DID make my day, his smile like the promise of better times ahead. Thus, rather than walking with my friendly ghosts from “Castro Past” as I traversed a broad swath of the valley, I thought of my recent adventures with a grateful heart, knowing they will all lead to benevolent outcomes, each and every one. Some already have.

Upon nearing hovel after looping around (and meandering through) several long blocks, I also reached the end of my cup, barely two sips remained. Just before swigging down the final drops of my aureate elixir, a skinny elderly gentleman in blue jeans and yellow-striped, white shirt passed by, greeting me with a gentle “good morning.” I cheerfully responded as well, and observed him and his teensy long-haired dachshund continue their merry stroll towards 18th Street. The little sausage wanted to greet me, of course, but I thought the owner might be wary about that, so I just gave a friendly wave before turning homeward.

Later that day, around 4:30 PM, Deek showed up to hand over the pups and collect his allowance. As well as leave me with three devices to charge up: another new Bluetooth speaker (this one vertical, like a small tower), a battery pack, and a fancy-schmancy Samsung phone that he actually purchased new about a week ago…no doubt through the black market because better price. He returned a few hours later for his gizmos, told me to keep the mutts overnight, he’ll pick them up tomorrow or the next.

I am so pleased at how calm and high spirited he is these days! Before departing last night, he reminded me to show them love. I assured him I always do, and that Lucky favors neck scritches, while Flaco her belly rubs. He agreed with a flashy smile: I could see his teeth are still white and whole, now that his smiles have resumed after many frown-laden months. He then wished me a good night and took off. THERE HAS BEEN NOT AN IOTA OF DEVILMENT ON HIS PART FOR OVER THREE MONTHS NOW! Which only gives further credence to my Bodhisattva Premise:

That this is all scripted, and Deek is in on it. That his situation with the pups is not all it appears to be…they are better off when with him, than one would think. IOW, they probably have another place to stay and keep safe, warm and happy. The pups’ behavior all along gives indication they are mostly housed; not to mention how spotlessly clean they always are. And he, himself, is not truly homeless. Others are in on the game, too, such as the building manager, chihuahua man, my “quasi-fascist neighbor down the hallway,” Myrtle & son, Morey’s corner store, and even the SFPD! But since I’ve already elaborated upon my conjecture in previous posts, I won’t belabor the point, and just stop here with this new revelation:

Deek’s transformation is my own transformation.

Here are two new videos of Lucky, that I just took this morning…delightful as always (great thumbnails BTW):

As for my latest howling video I just texted you: I wish I could’ve caught the whole thing, starting with Lucky’s sitting up once they hear the siren, waiting to see if Flaco would decide to howl, before joining in, himself. Capturing only the tail end does not do justice to such a precious little scenario!

– Zeke K-Holmes


Re: A genuine smile in the Castro made my day!
From: Zeke Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: August 11, 2021 3:11 PM

> How great to get those friendly smiles! I have transcendent experiences with strangers fairly often. Truly memorable.

Unusual for the Castro, at least for me it is. That’s what made it so great. Like waking up to a new, and better, reality.

> When I lived in town, and heard the fire siren, I always knew that within seconds there would be a chorus of doggy howls joining in. It would come from all directions, dogs many blocks apart singing together. It was wonderful.

They are the voices of love, nature’s church bells.

> Some dogs have a musical ear, an inheritance from their wolfy ancestors!

As you’ve probably noticed, Lucky has this amusing, halfhearted warble that is a counterpoint to Flaco’s more resonant howls. He never instigates the baying, but prefers to accompany his sister, once she begins her song. She really gets into it, as if to say: “Listen to me! This is immense!” And I do give her my rapt attention, because it’s an honor to do so, for all the kindness she gives.

> Great videos.

Charming little video vérité vignettes! One day, my Brindlekin Tales will warm many hearts.

> And of course, I got sucked into watching others.

Of course. Doggy time is always lovey-dovey time.

> here’s a heartwarmer.

TRULY soul-touching!

One comment there: “Whoever tried to abandon the dog AFTER SAVING HER: Satan’s children.”

I totally agree; what nasty people, attempting to dump that sweet, trusting pup when its new master was sound asleep. Thank god he awoke soon enough, and was not so far away to recover her promptly. And that wonderful person who kept the pooch for five months, much longer than she expected him to be gone, before returning to retrieve her. I can’t imagine the logistics of getting permission to allow the dog to get through customs and to her forever home. Amazing true tale from deep in the heart of the Amazon!

– Zeke K-Holmes


Subject:They’re Playing Me!
From: Zeke Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: August 11, 2021 8:28 PM

Upon returning from walking the pups an hour ago, I enter the front gate only to discover that BOTH the building manager (Kevin) and my quasi-fascist neighbor (Moe) are chatting on the first landing, which is in clear view from the lobby. IOW, I see them and they see me, so there is NO way I can step back out and wait until they disperse elsewhere. I already have two ducky treats at hand (as is my habit these days), to distract the mutts from barking, especially in tight quarters going up or down the narrow stairs. Which works up to a point; they still bark, but it’s brief and nowhere near as cacophonous as before.

But THIS, dear Wattson, is a worst-case scenario straight outta the Devil’s Playbook, in light of WHICH two residents they are, forcing me to squeeze by with the doggies, come hell or high water. I was hoping such an inevitable confrontation would NOT occur until a little further down the line, when the pups would be even tamer, that is: more adjusted to this building’s foot traffic. GOD-DAMN-STILL-OUT-OF-ORDER ELEVATOR!

Had the lift been in operation by now, none of this barking “problem” would even be a thing. Though I’ve considered it a non-issue all along, as MOST residents are charmed by the pups, and find their boisterous show hilarious, because of how diminutive and obviously harmless they are. And that, eventually, they’d adapt and the barks would subside soon enough. But no, Kevin has to be a byatch about it, due most likely to my debacle with him over the Myrtle-and-son fiasco earlier this year, which I WON hands down. While at the same time giving him a well deserved black eye in my complaint to Ablahblah Realty.

So of course I play it cool and barge right on up the stairs, holding the treats over their noses to guide them directly through the narrow (but imposing) gauntlet of my two, greatest arch enemies occupying 9666 Market Street! They stand aside barely enough for THIS hapless trio to scamper through, as the pups go into barking frenzy mode, and I keep one hand forward, saying a couple of times: “Keep your eyes on the treat!” To my relief that works, as they sound off a scant three seconds…the time it took to pass through this “second gate.” So they barked a total of five consecutive steps: two just before, and two just after. Perfectly silent, otherwise. I hope they were impressed…any SANE person would be. But get this, good doctor:

Moe had said something to the pooches as we slipped by, but I was too preoccupied with keeping them quiet as possible, to give it any attention until a few minutes later, when his words echoed in my skull:

“I bet if I gave you some treats, you wouldn’t bark!”

That surprised me in a pleasant manner, especially since his tone of voice was calm and friendly. So once more my Bodhisatvva Premise kicks in:

They’re playing me, Wattson! As sort of evil stepsisters to my Cinderella, that I stand out as hero by my dedication to the dogs’ well-being regardless of any animosity or threats flung my way. And doing so while keeping an amicable face towards mine enemies…”right thinking,” the way of the Buddha! Moe’s kind words were one of those bodhisattva hints I’ve spoken of, that they toss in now and then in the midst of one’s struggles…a bit of affirmation to lift your spirits. For they are compassionate at heart, though some play your adversary for a time, that you grow in spirit by accepting their challenges and learning to rise above them. Furthermore:

These hints begin to flow fast and thick, once you reach the end of your struggles with a successful score of one hundred percent. IOW, they are about to drop their devilish mask and reveal themselves as the angels they truly are. And shower you with accolades for a job well done.

Assuming my theory is correct, then OF COURSE Deek is in on it with them, and numerous others who’ve played my foe in one way or another, to a greater or lesser extent. Including Arwyn, whom I strongly suspect of composing this script from beginning to end…long and drawn out, that it may encompass an incredible number of amazing true tales! While scarcely an actor in my Brindlekin Tales trilogy–unlike when he was the star of my previous novel–he remains the major force, albeit behind the scenes.

Like a brilliant puppeteer.

– Zeke K-Holmes

P.S.: THREE TIMES TODAY, people have complimented upon the beauty of these pups. One occurence was from the wraparound deck of Lookout: a gay bar on the second floor and right on the corner of Noe & 16th. As I crossed the street with Flaco & Lucky, they hooted and whistled down at us, saying things like “lovely pooches,” “cute doggies” and stuff like that. The pups looked up and barked back with glee, until we finally passed under them, and beyond.

Then about a block further down (on Noe Street) some sprightly old lady walking in the middle of the street (which was closed to traffic, as Wednesdays are our Castro Market days, when local farmers sell their fresh, organic produce), called to me:

“Oh, what lovely, sweet dogs!”

“Thank you,” I called back, “they’re half dachshund and half terrier…and all bundle of love!”

She stood there a moment to admire them from twenty feet away, then departed with the words:

“You’re a very lucky man!”

“Yes I am,” I replied. “And THIS dog here is even named Lucky!”

On my way back, a lesbian couple in a large makeshift stall used in the afternoons by Jefferey’s Natural Pet Foods for dog training classes, called me over to comment on how gorgeous my brindlekin are. I thanked them, told them their names, and a bit about how I acquired them.

“They’re REAL rescue dogs, right off the street!”

They asked if they could give them a little treat and I said, sure. The pups were very polite, and graciously accepted the handout. The couple thanked me profusely for allowing them to admire the pooches, then got back to their class, which contained five other people and their dogs. A lot of barking, and jovial human voices.

It was a sunny, warm day with a cool breeze that brought out the best in people, apparently.

What do you want to bet, Wattson, that the building manager and my quasi-fascist neighbor down the hall, read my Brindlekin blog tales faithfully? Makes sense if my Bodhisattva Premise is true. Which means they will have a good laugh reading today’s encounter between them and my pooches, in my upcoming chapter. Which should be out in a week or so. This ALSO implies that even some at Ablahblah Realty read them, too! As I guess do Myrtle & son, plus the folks at Morey’s corner store.

I should start carrying a few of my Brindlekin Tales cards, now that more people are noticing them these days! I’ll try to save up a bit of money to print out another batch by the end of the month…I only have about fifteen left! And here’s a video I just took of Lucky fluffing up his blanket before settling in. Lit only by my portable LED lamp, which suddenly blacked out during the recording. Couldn’t have happened at a worse time, drats!


Subject: Putting 2 + 2 together…
From: Zeke Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: August 12, 2021 10:22 AM

…and coming up with a solid 4.

Dieter and I get along very well, and he loves the pups, and is friends with the building manager…they even live on the same floor, just a couple of doors away from each other. What better person could I have, to vouch for the pups’ kindness and good behavior? Why this realization didn’t occur to me earlier is beyond me, old chap!

Plus, every time I spoke to Dieter about my frustrations with Kevin, it was never with hatred, but concern…and stating that I always meet antagonism with compassion, as that is the Buddhist path. He is aware of my clash with Kevin over the Myrtle-&-son conflict, has seen the video of Adisa and lackeys harassing me at the front gate, and has also read Kevin’s wicked letter that falsely accused the dogs of biting Adisa, as well as declaring the most prejudicial, anti-homeless rant I’ve seen in a long time.

Dieter IS, by the way, another homeless advocate; he’s friends with a few of them himself. Not that he is a full-blown activist on their behalf, but clearly grasps how I’ve suffered years of hostility by my fellow queers…the spoiled ones that is, those flush with money and who flaunt their prosperity like they’re the Gay God’s Chosen. Most of whom, of course, are either Republican or Libertarian. Little diff between the two, except one party is anti-marijuana, and the other is pro.

He has often brought this up, this sharp turn to the right by our LGBT community, expressing much disgust over how things have changed for the worst over the years, in this once-affordable and welcome mecca for gays, the poor and eccentric outsiders (many of whom were artists driven out of the city years ago, due to costly gentrification and increasing enmity against our kind).

Amazing how I’ve survived it all: escaping from a dysfunctional family, evading the draft without penalty, dodging the AIDS bullet, as well as not succumbing to either hard drugs or mandatory psychiatric doping. Nowadays, there’s Trumpism, COVID-19, and looming economic and climate disaster to deal with. Thank God for Flaco and Lucky and their incredible master, Deek! For they are key to my ongoing survival, and more: THRIVING through it all.

Yes, of course, you deserve MUCH credit as well, for you came before them, and paved my way to where I am today: not just a legend in my own mind, but a global super hero!

Good morning Wattson! Another day has begun, and I hope yours is SPECTACULAR.

– Zeke K-Holmes


Re: They’re Playing Me!
From: Zeke Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: August 12, 2021 2:12 PM

> “people have complimented upon the beauty of these pups.”
>
> This is lovely.

Well on their way to becoming the mascots of the Castro. What I’ve been struggling for all along!

Deek collected the pooches yesterday evening. Just came by today, so I could charge his smartphone and speaker. Then he said he’ll be right around the corner, and will return to pick up the devices later. Which I guesstimate will be in about two hours. But the important aspect of all this is:

HE’S REALLY MELLOW THESE DAYS! I have finally won the dragon’s trust, as I described my challenge to ensure the pups have a happy, long life. A fairy tale analogy, where I compare his dangerous bipolarity to a dragon, and the doggies to a fair maiden imprisoned in the leviathan’s lair. And I, the knight in shining armor, who has concluded he must also befriend the wyvern (rather than slaughter it), in order to free the maiden. A happy ending for all parties involved, no one excluded. This is quite Jungian, what with the archetypal layer.

You know how Arab shopkeepers like to address their customers as “boss?” I recall the first time that happened to me (years ago of course), and I found it quite witty. Well, this morning when I entered Rosenberg’s, Charlie greeted me with the usual, “Good morning, boss, how are you?”

I said just fine, thanks, then proceeded to pour my coffee (it’s self-serve). As I did so, another customer entered the store, and Charlie addressed him as well: “Good morning, boss, how are you?”

A moment later I stepped up to pay, and remarked: “I just learned something!”

“Yes, what’s that?” he queried.

“I’m not the only one you call ‘boss!'”

That cracked him up, as was my intent.

– Zeke K-Holmes


Subject: Catching Up (odds & ends)
From: Zeke Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: August 15, 2021 7:33 PM

Yesterday, Jack and wife who run that friendly corner shop with Morey, offered me all the fresh, organic plums I want. They were gathered from a relative’s backyard, and now fill a large carton bursting with sweet, purple-dark drupes! I gladly snatched up an armful, and thanked them profusely. So things are flourishing once more with them, in spite of that vile attack two weeks ago by Adisa and lackeys. The punks have NOT returned to cause more chaos, and Jack has quickly bounced back to excellent health, and he looks it. I know they greatly appreciate my nipping a potential tragedy in the bud…glad, though, no one’s making a big deal of it.

Over five weeks ago, the Snap Program has granted me a princely sum of $20 per month in food stamps, though they have yet to send me the magnetized card that will permit me to spend it. Yet they continue to update me with email notices, such as one stating an extra sum has been added to my account, thanks to the pandemic. They didn’t say how much, but I presume it’s based on a percentage of what I’m already receiving. So my guesstimate is around one or two dollars…though it could be as little as a dime. I’ll have to call their office about the missing plastic, though I strongly doubt plodding through their phone menu tree will achieve the goal of actually procuring said card.

Since I’ve begun giving Lucky copious neck scritches as of several weeks back, he now vies with Flaco to scramble onto my skinny lap. Nonetheless, she persists in pushing him aside with surprising force that, were it not for my own, stronger arm, she’d accomplish. My solution is to embrace them simultaneously, while calling out: “Group hugs! Group hugs!” Then I sort out the belly rubs (which Flaco favors) from the neck scritches, with a separate hand dedicated to each purpose. (Did I say that right? It kinda sounds like I’m an octopus.) It’s a tough assignment, but someone’s gotta do it!

Much to my happy astonishment, I continue to doze off like a log, and wake up each morning totally refreshed some time around 7:30! This is NOT the Zeke I’ve known since childhood, living out my pupate phase in the youthful know-nothingness of suburbia’s gray cocoon. Certainly, the doggos’ delightful company has restored in me that superb state of inner peace. When visiting, they always greet each morning with incredible joie de vivre, starring myself as their hero…and continue such high spirits throughout the day and unto sleepy time once more!

Regarding Medicaid’s astronomical share of cost, causing lack of dental care (as well as that for ear and eye exams/treatment) even though you ARE eligible to receive such on paper: I HAVE BEEN HEARD, after years of speaking out! First, as of late last year, Governor Newsom declared Medi-Cal services to be free for all recipients, starting some time in 2021…eventually settling on April for the kickoff month. And now, Democrats are pushing for dental coverage (and hearing and eye care) under Medicare’s umbrella. This is how it should have been all along, but I’m elated it’s finally coming true. I’m not saying “I have been heard” literally; it’s just that I’ve been struggling to get the Dems to realize what a serious issue this is, and needs to be rectified ASAP. Whether or not these vital services finally get absorbed into Medicare (the GOP will fight it tooth and nail), it is sufficient to me that our party CLEARLY UNDERSTANDS this tragedy, and is now taking up arms. I NO LONGER STAND ALONE! My wish has come true, so to speak. Whether or not my OWN words in cyberspace had anything to do with it, may never be known. But I’m glad I put them out there, just the same.

There seems to be a much greater awareness of yours truly, among the Castro’s homeless population. Which I’d say was triggered seven months ago by Deek’s running around like Chicken Little and telling everyone I stole his pups. (If only it were that simple!) Then witnessing further developments as they saw me helping him care for the pooches, and how amicably this arrangement has turned out. Including his showing up more frequently with a street friend or two, during our meetups. Which is fine with me, at this point. In fact, several days ago two buddies were tagging along when I stepped out to hand over the pups (after a good, long rest), and a fresh supply of dog food. One of them gave me a cordial hello and a smile. Of course I returned the kindness, but it wasn’t till some time later when I returned hovel, that I realized it was that same, large black dude who said “good morning” and “god bless you” in passing (during my coffee stroll through the Castro) just two days before!

We have all learned, recently, that bandannas are NOT a good masking option. I sure wish these “experts” had told us right from the git-go! We have always known that N95 masks are the best way to go…and now, we understand that three-layered cloth masks come in second place (with silk right at the top, followed by cotton, then polyester). But I still had to figure out which cloth masks are the best, among the myriad offered on Amazon…rifling through negative reviews, as well as positive. For some buyers, the ear straps pop off easily, or they’re too loose or too tight. Or the masks are tinted with a toxic dye, or they have a chemical stink or make your skin break out in rashes, and so forth. And even some of the expensive N95 brands may be counterfeit!

So rather than waste my money and time trying out first one brand, then another, till I find the right fit or whatever, a couple of hundred dollars later, I came upon a perfect solution: just pluck ’em off the sidewalk. Folks are dropping them everywhere! Yesterday, I acquired three in exactly that manner. They all looked brand new anyway, and are definitely reusable. Once hovel, I smudged hand sanitizer all over each mask, swooshed them around in warm, soapy water for a good minute or so, then rinsed them thoroughly and hung them up to dry overnight. Voila! Free, quality masks which I’ll never run out of, because just there for the picking. Like some weird manna from heaven.

– Zeke K-Holmes


Texting with Wattson – 8/11/21 to 8/16/21

Video: pups howling

Pic: pups snoozing 1

Video: homeless hang out

Pic: wattson’s doorway 1

Pic: wattson’s doorway 2

Pic: pups snoozing 2

Pic: deek snoozing 1

Pic: wattson’s pup “surely”

Pic: deek snoozing 2

Pic: deek & pups snoozing 1

Pic: deek & pups snoozing 2

Pic: deek & pups snoozing 3

Pic: deek & pups snoozing 4

Pic: reddit advertisement


Subject: Dogs are back, snoozin’ like there’s no tomorrow!
From: Zeke Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: August 18, 2021 7:02 PM

OMG they were dying to get inside, Flaco was almost in a panic at the gate, where Deek forced us to linger while he insisted on shooting the bull…until I finally said, “Enough!” But here’s the best thing out of this:

As we stumbled inside, a resident was standing in the lobby, diddling with his smartphone…yet the dogs did NOT bark, ignored him entirely. All they wanted, desperately, was to get to my sanctuary ASAP. In their excitement, they barked a bit going up the stairs.

Whence we crossed paths with a friendly, young fellow who walked down slowly while leaning against the wall, due to a sprained ankle or somethin’ like that. I said, as I maneuvered the pups around him: “They don’t bite, just bark sometimes!” He replied he knows, they’re wonderful doggies (as he’s encountered them several days back, with delight). Pooches were really no problem, and it was funny to see how eager they were to hop onto that cot and crash out. After all, they don’t know how much time they have for each visit (nor do I, because, as you know, Deek can sometimes be quite an A-hole), so take full advantage of each opportunity to rest up.

Which they did, immediately. Didn’t even go for the bowl of water I set out. Flaco wasn’t even in the mood for some ducky treats, though Lucky was. However, he remained supine on the bedding, expecting me to serve him tidbits like he was the King of Siam. And ASFAIC, he is! My conclusion:

Too many residents here now love the mutts, and wouldn’t think kindly of chihuahua man or the building manager, for any meanspirited gossip about them.

Click here for a larger view.
Click here for a larger view.

Re: Dogs are back, snoozin’ like there’s no tomorrow!
From: Zeke Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: August 18, 2021 7:25 PM

> Excellent report.

Yes indeed.

> And those pics! Even asleep, the doggies are actively enjoying the comfort and luxury.

Their golden, brindle luminosity is Goodness Canine-ized. My humble monkish cell is transformed into a Dachshund Epiphany whenever they’re present. And it is all thanks to Deek. Now that’s just amazing, especially when you look back at how it all started, and the progress made since. Deek returned to collect his newly charged phone, told me to keep the pups overnight. Another doggy sleepover…yay! Time for their din-din.

– Zeke K-Holmes

P.S.: And to top it all off, just this morning at the crack of dawn, with sunlight streaming in silver rivulets through the worn seams of my curtain, I was gifted this amazing find, a sacred relic lost in the bowwows of deep antiquity: The Shroud of Dachshund! This is truly a Dogsend that has fallen into my trembling, undeserving hands!

My taloned associate, Pterry Pterodactyl, appeared on the lamppost perch astride my hovel, tapping her leathery wings upon the window pane, and clasping this archaic cloth between her beaks. She knows the whole story, not just how she discovered it, but how it came to be in the first place…and promises to reveal EVERYTHING to me, in due time. I’m guessing around Brindlefest, at year’s end. The suspense is hounding me already!

Click here for a larger view.

Subject: And yet MORE good news from the Castro trenches!
From: Zeke Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: August 18, 2021 10:13 PM

I stepped out a short while ago for some fresh air, leaving the pups to slumber on. Upon reaching the gate, there was chihuahua man on the other side, fumbling with the keys to get in. So I called out: “I got it!” And held the gate open so he and his pooches could enter with ease.

He said, “Thank you, Zeke. I hope your evening is going well, and that you have a lovely night.”

“Likewise for you,” I replied, “have a great evening!”

Whaddiditellya, Wattson? They’re PLAYING me…but in a good way, getting me to rise above twitches of anxiety, learning to not worry about anything at all. I think they’ve done a damned good job of it too, what say you? In conclusion:

The manager NEVER had any plans to make me get rid of the pups. It was a CHALLENGE for me to accept, and figure out how to resolve as compassionately as possible.

– Zeke K-Holmes


Re: Dogs are back, snoozin’ like there’s no tomorrow!
From: Zeke Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: August 18, 2021 11:02 PM

> “The Shroud of Dachshund!”
>
> He is risen!

The greatest shaggy dog story ever told.


Re: And yet MORE good news from the Castro trenches!
From: Zeke Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: August 18, 2021 11:48 PM

> And perhaps soon they will be yours all the time.

I was thinking more in terms of them being adopted by the entire building…our mascots! I’d take the dogs for visits with our three or four elderly residents, who are mostly confined to their rooms. People could chip in for veterinary costs, doggy sweaters, food, toys, etc. This group adoption would then expand to the entire neighborhood, thus the brindlekin would be well protected and cared for every minute of every day, for the rest of their lovely little lives. Just as I have been praying for, all along…ever since October 30th 2020.

Now we can finally see the light at the end of the tunnel, the joyful conclusion to my long-winded epoch, a win/win outcome for all parties involved. There’ll be some news coverage as well, at least locally…but one can easily imagine how that could go viral around the world. On the heels of the pandemic, sweeping away all grief that came before. Curly tail-waggin’ joy for everyone! Thus a new holiday shall be born from the ashes of Exmass.

Brindlefest!

– Zeke K-Holmes


Subject: Chihuahua Man Update
From: Zeke Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: August 19, 2021 10:19 PM

Last night around 10:30 PM, I was returning hovel after a short stroll in the cool night air (pups were asleep upstairs), and saw chihuahua man walking his two arf-arfs in my direction. He addressed me, apologizing for one of his doggies peeing in my hallway, and he’ll clean it up soon as he returns. He didn’t want me to slip on it. Conveniently, the pooch had peed on the long plastic sheet by the elevator door, rather than directly on the carpet. I told him no problem, thanks for the alert and have a lovely night. Upon returning hovel, I grabbed some paper towels and mopped up the tiny puddle in a flash. Goodwill is dogwill.

– Zeke K-Holmes


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