The Final Chapter (part 22)

[BRINDLEKIN TALES – Book 3: Chapter 17v]

Lucky loves the fluff, and tonight is no exception. Such a delight just watching him fluff stuff up!

Subject: More Dog Barking!
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: September 26, 2021 10:22 AM

The pups have begun barking more frequently these past two weeks, going up and down the stairs. I think because they haven’t been dropping over as frequently, thus are more accustomed to dealing with strangers on the streets, and protecting Deek. And the hallways remain quiet as a church and vacant most of the time, so for them to see another person in the building still perturbs them. Though for MOST of these encounters, they do not bark at all.

Yesterday, they barked up a storm all the way down and into the lobby, because they heard someone down there. It was the mail person! Even though I held them short on their leashes, she moved to a far corner, cowering and eyes wide open. Rather overdramatic I’d say, as anyone can see they’re harmless, just like to make a big show of it at times. They wouldn’t stop barking until we stepped outside.

That evening, same day, right after we exited my hovel, again they started to bark like wild. I got them to quiet down somewhat, but then my new neighbor appeared coming up the stairs, so they resumed their loud barks as I held them back, so she could pass. But then Flaco escaped her collar and ran to the top of the stairs to block her way. So I knelt down to pull her back. The neighbor had a nasty scowl throughout the encounter; and the pooches didn’t stop barking until she entered her apartment.

So I’m sure she’ll complain to the manager, rather than allow the dogs to meet her, so they’ll calm down. These barking incidents are rare, but the timing yesterday was not good.

Most of the time when they bark at a resident, that person will just laugh and talk to them kindly. But some people choose to be assholes. Ironically enough, my new neighbor is almost the spittin’ image of Myrtle: close-cropped dirty blond, straight hair, petite in size, pinched face, and not particularly friendly. I’ve opened the gate for her a few times, since she moved in five months ago…not once has she said thanks.

Anyway, Deek dropped by last night, just wanted me to charge his new Bluetooth speaker, said I could keep the dogs over for a second night. He was quite congenial. He parked himself outside my building, where a few other homeless congregated…interesting they all had bikes. This gathering lasted a bit over two hours, and they were friendly and quiet throughout. Nor did they leave any trash behind. Impressive!

– Zeke K-Holmes

Re: More Dog Barking!
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: September 26, 2021 7:18 PM

> Doggies are protective of you. And they might have sensed something “off” about the new tenant in that way they have.

Of course. But some people look for every excuse they can to fuck with me; that is my Castro experience writ large. Picking on the dogs is their latest game, because I love them so much. The wicked always strike at the heart, first.

> At least they’re little dogs, so no one has to be actually scared of them. They’re not exactly Presa Canarios.

Not even close. I’ll never forget the day, years ago, someone stepped into our long defunct laundromat-around-the-corner, with a Presa C. Some people use their dogs to terrorize others…they’re fucked up. It wasn’t even on a leash! I got outta there fast, left my laundry in the washing machine for a good hour, before returning when it was safe again.

> Speaking of which, I was discussing the Diane Whipple case with Greg, the guy I wrote the Iraq book for. Greg worked as a guard at Folsom Prison for a while. He met all kinds of “celebrities” there, including Charlie Manson. You may remember a scene in the book where Greg recalls Manson and a big hulking Aryan Nation brute named “Cornfed” getting into a fight (insitigated by Cornfed; Charlie was a 5’2″ pipsqueak and physical coward). Greg pulled his service revolver, and aimed at one guy and then the other, considering his options: He could go down in history as the guy who shot Charlie Manson, or he could shoot the entirely un-famous Cornfed. He chose Cornfed, wounding him in the leg, ending the fight.

Wow, that’s quite a story, Wattson! Greg should write another book, this time around his time as a prison guard. I’m sure he’d have a lot to say.

> Well–when Greg and I were talking about the horrible bloody lethal dog attack on Diane Whipple in the hallway of her apartment building, Greg said that the lawyer couple across the hall who lived with the dogs and failed to control them not only knew Cornfed–they had “adopted” him as their “son,” and that the dogs actually belonged to Cornfed. How’s that for a bizarre twist?

Terribly bizarre. But I did know about that aspect, already, as it was in the news about their association with Cornfed. The whole scenario was ghastly. I firmly believe that couple was homophobic, and planned Ms. Whipple’s horrendous demise. And got away with it, for the most part. Here is an article that covers this twisted tragedy:

The Unbelievable True Story of Bane the Nazi Hellhound, ‘Cornfed’ Schneider and the Dog-Mauling Case That Made Kimberly Guilfoyle Famous

In there, it says: “Not to mention, one of the prosecutors on it was Kimberly Guilfoyle, who now spends her time on TV defending white supremacists like her boyfriend’s father, President Trump.”

As you know, Ms. Guilfoyle was married to Gavin Newsom during his term as SF Mayor. Unbelievable!

Noel or Knoller also had sex with their Presas, BTW.


Noel told a reporter from Rolling Stone all about how impressed he was with the hellhound’s enormous dick, “Bane was confident, proud, handsome. Bane had an eye for ladies. He sees Marjorie, rolls over on his back and, bam, that big red arrow popped out. He had a hard-on that big. Boy, was that dog hung.” Later, in the same article, a former prison guard recalled how much Noel was impressed by Bane’s genitals, “I’d get on the phone with Bob to ask him about a case. And all he did was talk about how big Bane’s balls were.”


– Zeke K-Holmes

Re: More Dog Barking!
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: September 26, 2021 10:17 PM

> Sick, sick, sickety sick sick.

In all directions, and on every level. The attorney who wrote that article linked in my last post, also wrote: “Finding Meaning in Diane Whipple’s Death.” The next-to-last paragraph is worth serious consideration…however, NOTHING has been changed regarding more sensible dog safety laws:


Society needs to look again at the usual prejudice against breed specific legislation. If dog owners really are entitled to have any kind of dog that they want, including Presa Canario dogs, and if dog owners can have any kind of dog in any kind of surroundings, including a crowded urban area and even a crowded apartment building like that in which Knoller, Noel and Whipple lived, then why was it fair for the Whipple prosecutor to condemn Knoller and Noel for owning those dogs? The Whipple trial was in many ways a breed specific prosecution. We should not permit this double standard to exist. Either we are for breed-based restrictions, or we are against them. We cannot tell dog owners that they can get any kind of dog that they want, but “throw the book at them” for having those dogs. It is hypocritical and will do nothing to end the dog bite epidemic.


But the final paragraph irks me, regarding his reference to heterosexuals in a rather strange context:


It should also be noted that Whipple’s death — specifically, the wrongful death lawsuit of Sharon Smith — raised issues that affect not only gays and lesbians, but mothers, fathers and other heterosexual people of the state. The resolution of those issues added another level of meaning to the horrible death of Diane Whipple.


Re: More Dog Barking! ADDENDUM
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: September 26, 2021 11:32 PM

> That last paragraph is vexing. I’m going to have to tease it apart tomorrow with a fresh brain (so to speak.)

I’d be most interested in what you DO conclude about such a bizarre statement. To me, it smacks of heterosupremacy.

> I’m still haunted, imagining what Diane Whipple experienced as she was being torn to pieces in that apartment building hall.

It’s always stuck with me, as well. Just this morning I crossed the street to avoid an owner walking his massive, bulky pit bull.

> Quite different, to my mind, from the case of Tatiana the Siberian tiger, who escaped from the pit at the SF zoo and killed one of the punks who’d been taunting her, throwing things at her and such. She leapt up, ignored other people, headed straight for the kid, found him, and killed him.

Disgusting people who abuse animals. They should all just drop dead, AFAIC.

– Zeke K-Holmes

Re: More Dog Barking! ADDENDUM
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: September 27, 2021 1:19 PM

> I had an old lady friend here, Gwen, a British ex-pat old enough to have been in London during the Blitz as a young adult. She was crusty, funny, and wonderfully acerbic. I remember telling her about the kid killed by the tiger at the zoo after he’d been throwing bottles at her and taunting her and such. Without missing a beat, Gwen just said, in her clipped British accent: “Good!”

My kinda gal! I would cherish having a cuppa with her, whenever she’d like.

Re: More Dog Barking! ADDENDUM
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: September 27, 2021 1:26 PM

> He could have made his point about the dog-bite laws that came about in the wake of Diane’s death being beneficial to everyone WITHOUT putting the gratuitous word “heterosexual” into it. It was sort of like those “riders” legislators attach to bills–completely irrelevant, but hitching a ride.

I think he has a problem with justice for LGBTs, as did the prosecution. And which I believe is why Noel and Knoeller got off so lightly. The way he inserted that bizarre and awkward “heterosexual” phrase suggests a level of discomfort re. gay people, that should have no place in the legal system.

– Zeke K-Holmes

Subject: Lucky & Flaco Crashing Here Tonight!
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: September 27, 2021 9:12 PM

So, Kismet has seen fit to put a little FEAR in his heart, over the pooches’ safety. Things should go much better, now. He handed me a sheet of paper filled on both sides with a sea of small type, asked me to check it out. So I took a steady glance, to discover someone’s spreading COVID conspiracy shit. I told him so, that it’s garbage and he shouldn’t give it any more attention. But the GOOD part of this, is he’s started asking me profound questions in recent days, about politics and social trends. I can only give him rough outlines, because he has so LITTLE basic knowledge, it would take HOURS just to fully answer ONE of his many queries.

Flaco & Lucky were DEE-LIGHTED to visit my sanctuary once more. They ate and drank heartily, group hugs, kisses and belly rubs all around, and now they’re snoozing like there’s no tomorrow. But there IS tomorrow, and each day will get better from here on in.

Re: Lucky & Flaco Crashing Here Tonight!
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: September 28, 2021 2:05 PM

> What an opportunity!!!!

I wonder, though…as I suspect he knows a LOT more than he lets on. IOW I think he PLAYS dumb. He reveals startling glimpses of insight now and then, that blows my mind. Thus I conjecture: he’s an actor, a bodhisattva guardian, a thespian on the stage we call life. The flyer he handed me included mention of the Jim Jones Massacre, and he asked me how rich black people wound up giving Jones all their money and property. So I explained to him a bit about religious cults.

> Little love machines!!!!

OMG they are SUCH sweethearts. They constantly express much gratitude towards me, in such endearing ways, it breaks my heart. People smile as we walk by, and I frequently receive compliments on their cuteness. I just want so badly for their brindlekin magic to spread across the Castro, that they become local canine celebrities!

Deek came by this morning to pick up his electronics, said he’ll return later to retrieve the pups. He gave me a little grief over the large speaker, and a new android tablet…called me back downstairs THREE times to make some pointless gripes. But it wasn’t anywhere NEAR serious, and he thanked me profusely and wished me a good day before parting for the nonce.

– Zeke K-Holmes

Subject: Oh for god’s sake…more barking!
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: September 28, 2021 5:02 PM

About an hour ago I took the pups out for their afternoon poop-stroll, and no sooner had we exited my hovel, Wattson, than a neighbor’s door opened, and Flaco & Lucky began vociferating wildly. A tall fellow was standing at the entrance, blocking his dog, which is medium sized and totally calm. I pulled on the brindlekin’a leashes to move them downstairs, but they BOTH escaped their tethers and stood around the open door, still barking.

“Oh, no, they got out of their collars!” I commented matter-of-factly…then called them to me, and told them to quiet down (in a deep, calm tone, almost sotto voce), as I placed their collars back on. Which they did, almost immediately. I looked up at the dude, said “thanks for your patience,” and the pups and I continued our descent to the outside world.

The neighbor did NOT appear friendly at all, just stared at me. This is the SAME apartment where that woman also resides, whom the dogs barked at three days ago. It would be nice if these residents with their own dogs would offer to let my pups socialize with them for a few minutes here and there…because then their barking would cease, because no longer strangers. Otherwise, it will take longer for them to acclimate to seeing other mongrels in the building.

But at least that dog owner saw they do not bite, only bark, and they are obedient to me. Though I fear he may be one of those Castro queers who loves to scowl and find any excuse to be mean to another who is not part of whatever clique he claims for himself. Everybody wants to keep to themselves in this building, and they tend to be small-minded and selfish. They’d rather not HAVE anything to do with anyone else in the building, if they can avoid it…least of all an old queer with bad teeth who is the center of gossip in these parts.

I can imagine their shock and chagrin after seeing me come and go with the pups for weeks, then suddenly one day spotting them with Deek! “What? He’s letting two homeless dogs live here? How does the manager even allow that!”

At any rate, I know how to deal with whatever ridiculous conflict they may choose to invent: with patience, friendliness and an unyielding stance, like a bulwark against all storms.

Deek’s doggies have been more “barky” these days, because he’s been keeping them outside for greater spells of time, than he has been previously. Thus, they’re a bit more agitated having to deal with the crazies on the street without frequent breaks. I spoke about this to Deek, after he remarked how they’re more jumpy and irritable lately. Told him they are always calmer after visiting with me, and having them stay over once a week, for one or two nights in a row, should calm them down nicely.

Some of the tweekers out there have been teasing and harassing the pups, especially two nights ago. I don’t know if they got ANY sleep. He agreed to have them stay overnight more frequently, after I suggested they do just that. He’s worried about losing them, because of the chaos of living outdoors. Finally! I’m sure he now realizes why it’s a TERRIBLE idea to get Flaco pregnant (especially while still on the streets), and a GREAT idea to let them stay with me for longer spells.

– Zeke K-Holmes

Subject: The Manager Seems Cool About It
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: September 29, 2021 10:58 AM

Walking up the stairs with the pups, after their morning ablutions, I encountered Kevin on the first landing. The doggies barked a bit, but turned the corner towards my room, and quieted down in seconds. As we walked by him, he said something to me, which at first I thought was “Can I speak with you?” and he’d say another resident complained. But that’s not what he said at all.

He just asked if the exterminator could check my room for bugs, around 2 PM today. I said sure, that’s fine…and with that, returned hovel. So the good thing is, he didn’t react towards the dog barks at all, just treated it like a normal thing (which it is). The bad thing is, I know the bedbugs have returned; in fact, I don’t think they ever left! Maybe reduced in numbers, but not entirely eradicated. I’ve been seeing a few every day, and yesterday about a dozen! I used the sticky side of electric tape wrapped about the handle end of a broomstick, to remove them from the wall by my bed. This seems to be the pattern ever since treatments began over a decade ago: that they never really go away. It’s just that barely a month ago, did the exterminator do my room last time.

But that’s another headache to deal with; I’m immensely glad he didn’t harp on the pooches. This is a major breakthrough.

BTW, Morey continues to be VERY supportive of my caring about the dogs. There are some good people here and there, and thank god for that.

– Zeke K-Holmes

Subject: Yet Another Breakthrough
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: September 29, 2021 3:57 PM

Returning from our afternoon walk, the pups starting barking halfway up the stairs…and when I reached my floor, there was Samuel (“chihuahua man”) standing with his doggies halfway down the hall. Flaco & Lucky continued to bark, but nowhere nearly as raucously as before (still loud though). I told them to quiet down, while holding a treat before their noses. I then led them around the corner and into my hovel, during which time they ceased the cacophony. As I passed them from about ten feet away, I said, “Sorry!”

Samuel kindly replied, “That’s alright.”

“Thanks, they’re getting better!” I replied, then disappeared.

So I’m very happy about this more positive rapport. Anyway, the exterminator dropped by two hours ago. Turns out he wasn’t here for a room check, but to actually do another treatment. For which I was totally unprepared, seeing as Kevin only mentioned a room check. Exterminator was cordial, said he’ll set up a date with the manager, and we can take it from there.

The dogs were present, and barked for awhile, mainly because he wore an orange and white gas mask that covered most of his face, with a fat filtration knob over each cheek! But the pups calmed down in another minute, and he got to pet them, told me what cute dogs they are.

We stepped back out right after that, as, surprisingly, Lucky informed me that he had to poop again. Two blocks up Noe Street was one of the hard hats that have been doing work on the house right next to Morey’s shop. The dogs would always step back and bark whenever he crouched down and extended a hand for them to sniff. But this time I gave him a few puppy treats, to see if that would change their tune. It did. And, fifteen minutes later as I looped back towards home, brought the pooches over again, to find out whether or not they’d bark, this time around. They didn’t. Instead, they looked up at him forlornly, in hope of another treat.

Don’t know why Deek hasn’t returned yet, as two nights have passed since he dropped them off. He’s done this before, though, so we’ll see. It would, however, be MOST unusual if he lets a third night go by.

– Zeke K-Holmes

Subject: Deek picked up the dogs earlier this evening.
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: September 29, 2021 9:28 PM

He looked great, well scrubbed and dressed…organized, neat shopping cart, too. He didn’t stop to chat at all, just picked up the pups and a fresh supply of dog food…then off he went, after thanking me with genuine appreciation. Not a bit of snark dripping off his tongue.

– Zeke K-Holmes

Click here for a larger view.

Re: Deek picked up the dogs earlier this evening.
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: September 30, 2021 2:16 PM

> That is my heart’s desire as well.

But it’s still quite a long shot, my keeping the dogs here. I don’t have a leg to stand on, if the property owner/manager really demands I get rid of them. Then there’s the matter of Deek signing them over to me. We’d have to go to the SPCA together, and fill out some forms. How could I get him to do that? Besides, only Lucky is registered to him, whereas Flaco is not on anyone’s records.

If he DOES hand the pups over to me, he may refuse to actually let me own them outright. Which means he can take them back whenever he wants, and I have no say in it.

So, the manager has yet to set up my next bug treatment day. If I don’t hear from him by early evening, I’ll contact Paolo (the exterminator) to see what’s up. Kevin made that appointment with the exterminator w/o telling me, except the same day…but made it look like just a room check (because that’s what he called it), in which case I wouldn’t have the room prepped. Which is exactly what happened. He’s supposed to first suggest a date at least two days in advance, and if it’s not good for my schedule, we come up with a day that DOES work for me.

So the manager could keep this up, claiming he’s told me each time, several days in advance, but I’m not complying. IOW: this could be a setup to threaten my residency. That’s why I will phone Paolo later today, if Kevin doesn’t contact me. So if my next treatment HAS been arranged, Paolo will tell me the date.

My OTHER concern is that I share my wall with the same neighbors who are upset with my dogs barking at them, or their dog. So they may eventually blame me for the frequent bedbug infestations, even though it’s obviously the half-assed extermination method.

– Zeke K-Holmes

Subject: Deek dropped the pups off this morning!
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: October 1, 2021 6:21 PM

A hot day, so they are now chillaxin’ like a boss. Deek told me the homeless outreach folks don’t even come up to him anymore, regarding getting a roof over his head. He’s approached them on his own, several times over the past several months, but they keep giving him the runaround, says they’re going out of their way to help all the REALLY crazy ones, but seem to have no desire to give HIM a helping hand.

We talked about a few other matters, nothing urgent. Suffice it to say he’s stable and neat appearing…and that’s what really counts. I gave him a bit of a pep talk, before we parted ways. Though I did tell him my room will be treated again, this Wednesday…and I’ll remind him once more, as the day approaches.

So glad the day’s finally cooling down, for the pups’ sake as well as mine. Their appetite is back, which hot weather works against.

Re: Deek dropped the pups off this morning!
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: October 1, 2021 11:28 PM

> Dankeschön for a most excellent report!!

It gets even better! Earlier tonight I took the pups for a stroll, and they started to bark as we passed by a homeless person sitting on the doorsteps of a house on Noe & Beaver Street (a block down from Morey’s shop). The fellow chuckled, said “woof woof” back at them. He’s a crusty, gray-bearded old fellow of slight build who showed up in the Castro around six years ago. I’ve never talked to him, but tonight after walking past him about twenty feet, I decided I would. So I turned around and came up to him, while the pups kept barking, but not too much.

He laughed and reached out a hand, which they both sniffed, then backed off and barked some more. So I grabbed a couple of pieces of broken up treats and offered them to him: “Here, give ’em this.”

He first gave one to Flaco, then I pulled her back a bit, so he could give the remaining piece to Lucky. If I didn’t distance her somewhat, she would have snatched it up before her brother had a chance at it. The vagrant was delighted, so I asked his name.

“Roger,” he said.

“Please to meet you, Roger,” I replied. “See? They’re not barking any more!” Indeed they weren’t, but gazed up at him instead with mournful brown eyes, in hope of another treat.

I withdrew two more pieces of duck jerky from my pocket and handed them to Roger.

And so he fed them a second round. Then I wished him a lovely night, and off we vanished into the shadowy night beyond. After ten more minutes or so, we returned hovel, but before we entered the front gate, I decided to do the same thing to another homeless person sitting nearby and playing plastic buckets like drums. The pooches, of course, were barking at him.

“Would you like to give them a treat?” I asked. So he did, and Flaco & Lucky quieted down. I repeated the gesture, to his delight, as well as the dogs’. Then I told him:

“You were so friendly when we stepped out, offering to get up and move a bit further from the gate, so as not to upset them. So I thought I’d be nice back.”

I did not ask him his name, but will, next time. He showed up barely two weeks ago, with his makeshift instruments…and drops by every evening for an hour or two, and plays them right below my window! Coincidence, or am I more well known than I realize…among the homeless? And does Deek have anything to do with this?

Now, it’s a couple of hours later, I’ve had my supper and decided to step out for a short, night-time stroll by myself, while the doggies snooze away in comfort. The air was deliciously cool, a refreshing balm for the lungs. The word that comes to mind that best describes it is CLEANSING!

A peaceful, cheery ambience permeated the Castro, and, while hoofing it up Noe Street and back again, I imagined this scene with Deek:

He was sitting on the sidewalk by the bus stop, waiting to pick up the dogs. Down the stairs I came, with tethered pups at my heels. He sat there kind of morose, or maybe just somewhat bored, so I addressed him:

“You should be really happy at this point in your life, Deek, what with all the good things I’ve been doing for you for so many years…not to mention what delightful friends you have with these two angels!”

“Well,” he began, looking straight ahead into traffic, with chin resting in both hands, and elbows upon his knees. He said no more, just shrugged his shoulders.

“I got you figured out, Deek,” I went on. “You’re doing this all for me!”

“All what?” he asked in a rather dreary tone.

“Well, for one, these dogs,” I pointed at them, parked now beside him in blissful camaraderie. “They’re your gift to me, for being a friend.”

He didn’t speak a word back, but just continued to look directly forward as a passenger bus rumbled up to the stop, paused for a few seconds to regurgitate several passengers, then chugged along to the end of the line at Market & Castro.

“You knew about me months before we ever met, Deek! You set things up by making a point of walking back and forth through my neighborhood until I finally introduced myself.”

He still said nothing, but a grin began to emerge on his countenance. So I continued:

“You did this all for me: the dramas, the crises, the being the pain in the ass so many times. All to guide me, to grow me into the better person I am now.”

Soon as I said that, he tilted his head and looked directly at me, with a wry sparkle in those hazel eyes. But only for one or two seconds before he resumed his vacant stare into an unknown distance.

“You’re my guardian angel, Deek.”

So that’s the daydream, Wattson. And I think I’ll tell him that next time we meet. For I have a hunch it will make him VERY happy, no matter how nonsensical my proclamation may strike him. It will certainly strike his funny bone!

– Zeke K-Holmes

Subject: Encounter with a friendly hardhat!
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: October 2, 2021 10:37 AM

This morning, as the pups and I approached Morey’s shop on Noe Street, a repairman working on something below the street (a cable, probably, as my bank’s ATM servuce a block away was down yesterday, as was Morey’s electronic payment system) called to me:

“Those are very cute doggies!” He was around 55 years old, 5-foot-9 with close-cropped ginger hair and beard.

So I brought them right to the worker. Of course they barked, but that soon stopped as I gave him some treats to feed them. I told him a bit of my story, that they actually belong to a homeless friend, and it’s been up and down, joy and grief, all along. How I tried to take ownership, but the cops got involved, and I had to find another way to work with Deek. Told him that I hope to turn them into the mascots of the Castro, that there be helping hands throughout the district.

He was very impressed, said, “At least you get to be with them on a regular basis!”

“Yes, that’s true,” I replied. “It’s like a fairy tale.” Then I described how I’m the knight in shining armor, the dogs are the princess captured by a dragon, and the dragon is Deek’s bipolar mood swings. But to rescue the princess, I must also rescue the dragon, not slay it, by friending it as well as the pooches. I also went into the conflicts I’ve had in my building, over the dogs…and how I’ve stood my ground and won my battles.

This is the first time I’ve told a stranger who admired Flaco & Lucky, that they’re not really my dogs, but a homeless person’s.

So here’s my new routine: bring treats whenever we go for a walk, and invite people (including the homeless, if they appear friendly) to feed them a couple of goodies, that the pups become less barky, and feel more welcome. And, over the weeks, this is how they become mascots. Here come the helping hands!

– Zeke K-Holmes

Subject: An AMAZING Morning!
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: October 3, 2021 9:56 AM

The pups are back with Deek, so I went dogless to Rosenberg’s for my morning coffee. The street artists began to show up for their weekly sales on Noe Street, which covers the length of a block, with cars banned. One of the first artists to show up, a painter, said good morning to me, where I sat sipping my java, on a concrete ledge bordering our community garden.

We talked about this and that for a few minutes, when along came Dominic (Deek’s cousin) hobbling along with an electric bike he copped from Lyft. It had no battery, but was rideable. Some of the homeless adapt such bikes, without having to pay to ride them. They’re all over the city.

Miriam, the friendly painter, knows him, and asked how he is today. So Dominic sounded off with his usual gripes, which he always does whenever he sees an opportunity to squeeze money out of someone. The many times I’ve asked him how he is, he’s always come up with this or that serious malady, all feigned. Though this time around, he was wearing medical shoes that keep his feet mostly bare…to reveal a right foot with two toes badly twisted from bunions (the big toe and the one right next to it).

So I let them talk, with Dominic detailing his woes, for which Miriam handed him a ten-dollar bill. Some moments later, who should ALSO come moseying on by, but Arwyn! She knows him too, and said hi. He gave both her and Dominic (whom he knows well) a warm greeting in kind, though kept on walking, disappearing around the corner moments later. Of course he didn’t acknowledge me, nor I him.

Dominic finally moved on (thank god), at which time I pointed out to Miriam that he ALWAYS is filled with woes to share, whenever someone asks how he is…it’s his way of procuring money. He never speaks with good cheer, as that would crimp his style. Then I told her a bit about Arwyn. She knows him very well, especially from the past when he was considerably more reckless.

I told her he’s one of the two heroes in my book, “Free Me From This Bond,” and how he and I have had quite a history for almost a decade, so far. But since he moved to the Castro, he ignores me. I described further my philosophy about all this a.k.a. the “bohisattva premise,” making it clear that I have no hatred towards him or any others who’ve turned on me. She was acutely interested in my stories, including Brindlekin Tales. She’s seen me with the doggies several times over the past months.

So I told her they’re not really MY pooches, but belong to Deek who is, strangely enough, Dominic’s cousin. I ran back hovel to return with my Brindlekin Prayer Card, and she was excited about reading my works. Said she LOVES to read, and it’s fascinating that it’s about people she knows, and the Castro. She then unfolded a chair, placed a cushion on it, and told me to have a seat.

Other artists had shown up by then, to set up their wares for the day. She introduced me to four of them, and they invited me to partake of some yummy fast food and coffee…which was awfully nice, though I turned down their gracious offer. But we talked some more about various things, all to my interests (women’s rights, alcohol in gay events, etc.). Upon departing, I said to Miriam:

“There’s a REASON we met, and both Dominic and Arwyn came by at the same time!”

“Yes, that’s extraordinary,” she replied.

“And a lot of why this is happening is explained in my book, ‘Free Me From This Bond,'” I proudly embellished.

Then I returned home, absolutely gobsmacked over this incredible turn of events, and wrote you this missive. She and all the other artists are out there right now, and will be until the late afternoon…and every Sunday (until the rains come, I guess). So I can pop over later today, to visit with them again, and do so every Sunday.

Told you Arwyn would start showing up in my world again, with greater and greater frequency! And now I have new friends to help spread the Brindlekin Gospel!

– Zeke K-Holmes

Re: An AMAZING Morning!
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: October 3, 2021 12:41 PM

> Now, that’s what I call sin-crow-nissitee!!!

I suspect bodhisattva manipulation has more to do with it…though, yes, from our human perspective, one may call it synchronicity, and be correct.

> Truly extraordinary!!!!!!!

I first was sitting by myself, no one around, just sippin’ on my good ol’ java…and had decided to say hello to any passerby, as part of my new program to become known as a neighborhood asset and icon. And do that every single friggin day for now on.

So, shortly after three hellos over the course of ten minutes, all the action unfolded. Coincidence? I think not!

– Zeke K-Holmes

From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: October 3, 2021 1:36 PM

I was busy (on this hot, sweaty day) getting a pile of my laundry washed and heat treated ahead of time…so I won’t have to rush like a maniac the day before the exterminator arrives. This gives me the luxury of also WASHING them, rather than just running them through the driers. The pups, if they stay over again before that time, will just have to do without the comforters. Instead, I’ll toss a few fluffy jackets down. There will also be no throw rugs, just newspaper and some cardboard flats. ‘Cause I’m doing the rugs today, too, which means I’ll have to bag them until Wednesday night, after the bug eradication that afternoon. Because of this morning’s excellent scenario, I am HIGHLY motivated to get through this prep, as I now can see the light at the end of the tunnel.

The bedbugs are part of the challenges that teach me how to better deal with life’s frustrations and disappointments. That is: they are bodhisattvas themselves, in a way. And once I make that long-sought-after breakthrough, they, too, shall be gone. For good. This breakthrough is, of course, my own personal liberation that involves securing the pups’ lives and that of Deek’s. Along with momentous life changes for people around me, and LGBT rights overall. IOW:

This latest manic cycle bubbling up in my psyche will spill over to everyone around me! It will not just be an internal eruption, but part of a greater destiny. I can now see how others in the Castro will help care for the pups, and for improving Deek’s life as well. Which compassionate expressions will expand beyond just my own goals, but do much for many other homeless who call this neighborhood home.

I came to realize several days ago, that I am becoming quite the local celebrity, what with my walking the cute-as-a-button pups that everyone oohs and aahs over, the confrontations in my building that I have successfully overcome, and my helping to squelch the threat of any further nasty attacks upon Morey’s shop by Myrtle’s son and his punk lackeys. Once I realized that, I figured I should start saying hello to people during my strolls, and carry treats for them to bond with Lucky and Flaco. That is: BUILD UPON my budding reputation.

And then, this awesome morning event happened, like the sun’s rays bursting through a cloud! Can’t wait till Arwyn resumes our stupendous association. For it is HE who once stopped me and said: “Our friendship, our being brought together, is an INCREDIBLE godsend!” That was in May of 2014. So glad I’ve documented all this, over the many years. For things are now falling into place quite amazingly, and my documentation gives evidence, like holy scripture. GAY holy scripture, that is.

You know what, good doctor? These artists I met this morning are in on it…that is, my bodhisattvas as well. I’m sure of it. All the world’s a stage. Let’s see how this newest act unfolds. I will be dropping by to see Miriam again, later today.

– Zeke K-Holmes

RE: Ohio added to California travel ban list due to anti-LGBTQ+ law
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: Carlyle Lambourne
Date: October 5, 2021 11:04 AM

On 2021-10-05 05:38, Carlyle Lambourne wrote:

> You know, it is a funny thing about covid-19, that for years when I was harvesting “word salads” for poetic expression, which I believe had been placed on internet intentionally, with a purpose, just for me to find and act as a kind of “messenger boy”, or “avenging angel” boy, as the case may be, I noticed that many of them were filled with morbid references of calculated nonsense, mixed with relatively sophisticated references to microbiology, etc., indicating that the nonsense was really not merely nonsense, but more just playing “mind games”, perhaps to make the picture more visual of a world slipping into madness, and/or to highlight the fear factor of our not really being able to know what is going on, and where we are going, but that something is very dangerous and wrong.

The gift of prophecy is often not discerned by the prophet himself, except with hindsight…often when someone else who reads or hears the prophet’s words points it out. At least, that has been the case for me. Though the prophet IS sometimes conscious of the prophecy at the moment he calls it up. (That was quite a sentence there, BTW.)

> As I showed you once, when I searched my own, old material, particular;y one called “Death in a Cave”, long before covid, it did even have reference to coronavirus experimentation. It also referred to the biowar scientist, Frank Olsen, who had been murdered by the CIA, and whose son I had some brief email discussion, improbably enough, shortly before covid.

That is indeed HIGHLY improbable, thus a strong indication that something ELSE is going on, of a hidden nature. How did you come to have communication with Olsen’s son, anyway? What brought you to him? I found “Death in a Cave” (dated 2007) here, and have just read it again:

Particularly stunning is your “Poet’s Postscript,” especially Sheila Lynch’s mysterious and sudden death…and a description of the most likely kind of bioterror virus to manifest: one that is not just so widespread as to make quarantine impossible, but one which symptoms are not evident until considerable time has passed, yet is highly contagious during said time. And that is exactly what has happened with COVID-19.

> That poetic surrealism was posted around the time that Boston was first contemplating putting a level 4 biosafety lab in the city, which I had thought was a bad idea, for the very same reason as Wuhan.

It certainly raised the alarms in your OWN psyche!

> Ironically, if the powers-that-be had taken seriously the message in that “poem” of sorts, they might have even avoided the covid pandemic.

Money, power and greed get in the way…in addition to plain old shortsightedness. You can be a scientific genius, yet still lack certain abilities to plan things out with great care. Though things are even more complicated than that.

> I had said repeatedly, out loud, long before covid, that these “rogue agents” or whatever you want to call them, that had hypnotic “mind control” ability, were hinting at retaliation in the form of biological warfare.

Too many cooks spoil the broth, so to speak.

> It has made me wonder all along if covid-19 could be a revenge against the Trump supporters, against the Republicans, against the whole country for not having enough decent and sensible people to prevent a sick, fascist bully like Trump from gaining power. A way of saying “enough is enough”, if they want to be like that, we can just starting pulling the whole temple down.

That may very well be the case…knowing that right-wing fools would get caught up in their anti-vax tomfoolery, as to wind up dying en masse…whereas the more intelligent, progressive types would not succumb to idiocy. Thus, COVID-19 becomes the world’s first “anti-stupid” virus. With more capable, better targeted, engineered “anti-stupid” pathogens on the way.

> Since that time, I even found similar “word salad” material related to covid, specifically, that I’ve been sitting on, and haven’t done anything with it, yet.

As I said earlier in this response: prophecy is often discovered with hindsight. Thus, such gifted people usually suffer the Curse of Cassandra. And I don’t mean “prophecy” in the biblical sense, but as more broadly defined via pre-Abrahamic and native cultures (such as Celtic, Native American, shamanic, and so forth). We need to reclaim many of the ideas that Christianity has stolen and claimed as their own. In those ancient times, poets were often the mouthpieces of “the gods,” or whatever else you choose to call these greater forces that bind us all.

But as I’ve learned over the years, via Buddhism, Hinduism, Kabalism and native belief systems: no matter what era you live in, no matter how violent and chaotic your present existence or reality or world may be, it is always the better path that chooses to be steady, balanced and calm. Thus, learning how to rid oneself of horrid scenarios conjured up in one’s mind (though they may be triggered by outside, even distant, events, such as what we get from the news), is a vital process of what the Buddha called “right-mindedness.”

For only then can you figure out the best way to proceed, whenever a REAL crisis emerges in your life. You will be better prepared to squelch whatever demonic scenario confronts you, and tries to scare the shit out of you, with threats of utter destruction and misery upon your person.

Which is really the great lesson (among others) in my seemingly mundane “Brindlekin Tales.” Which stories will go a LONG way in liberating LGBTs, no matter where on the planet they reside, including the most homophobic regions.

– Ezekiel

Subject: Pups in a Blanket
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: October 5, 2021 6:54 PM

Deek is keeping the doggies away, so I can prep my hovel. Surprisingly, I came across them yesterday morning, on the corner of Noe & Beaver Streets, barely a block up from Rosenberg’s. I was on the other side of the street, with fresh java in hand. He saw me, and I waved at him, and he waved back. Around twelve minutes later I strolled up the other side of Noe and, as I approached, placed a finger on my lips, in hopes of being able to pass by without waking Flaco and Lucky. Deek had company: another homeless dude who appeared well dressed and friendly.

Alas, Lucky raised his head as I passed…guess he smelled my presence, because they BOTH were asleep. So I crouched down to pet him. Flaco then began to stand up, but I eased her back down with some petting, said, “Don’t get up on my account, please keep resting!” She understood and lay back down as I rubbed her belly. Her eyes were half open in that adorable, drowsy gaze. Best of all: they were lying down on a lovely, thick comforter, velvet to the touch, with ornate designs in maroon and black. “Well done, Deek!” I thought.

Not much talking went on, it was a most peaceful visit, albeit brief. Upon departing, I wished them all a good day, and Lucky raised his head again, as I moved on. As if to say, “Oh, I wish you could stay!” Such a thoughtful little doggy! They both are.

My room is pretty much fully prepped; just a few more things to arrange tomorrow, to complete the task. I could even have the pups over tonight, should Deek drop by and ask me to watch them. So long as he shows up the next day, by noon. We’ve done that once before, and he was prompt in picking up the pooches.

The bedbug treatment is scheduled for tomorrow, between 2 and 4 PM. So I won’t be able to reenter my hovel till some time around 8. But I’m gonna go right back there, shortly after the exterminator is done, in order to snatch that horrible notice from my door, that announces to everyone who passes by (and most every resident does, because no working elevator yet) that this unit has just been sprayed for pests. I never see such a sign posted on anyone else’s door! What a fuckin’ insult to do this to me! It’s as if Kismet persists in portraying me as the local weirdo, the witch at the end of a twisted path on the edge of the village, by constantly setting me up with humiliating scenarios.

Once I dispose of that notice, I’ll step back out again, and take the N Judah to the Inner Sunset, where I’ll while away two or three hours. BTW, two nights ago I saw that homeless guy who plays drums on discarded containers. He was directly across the ATMs and sat right against the lamppost. Soon as he saw me, I smiled and approached him…this time, without the doggies in tow. He asked if he was making too much noise. So I replied:

“Nope, it’s not the kind of noise I find bothersome…play away! Just don’t do it when it’s after midnight.” It was around 9:30 PM at the moment.

He said that, further down the block, someone threw a bottle at him. So I told him that’s terrible, because he’s very polite and affable. I then asked him his name.

“Chris,” he said, “what’s yours?”

I told him “Zeke,” then wished him a lovely night and took off for my late-hour stroll up Noe Street. The pseudo-drums resumed beating in the background, their staccato rhythm.

Also, yesterday I had a friendly chat with my new neighbor across the hall, who has a little chihuahua. His name is Donnie, and he lives with his girlfriend. I think they were occupying a unit on the third or fourth floor, and moved down here two months ago. I told him about my dog’s barking whenever they see another canine in the hallways, and suggested I give him some treats to get acquainted with them. He made it clear he has no problem with Flaco & Lucky, and will be glad to introduce himself to them, next time their paths cross.

So that’s good!

– Zeke K-Holmes

Re: Pups in a Blanket
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: October 5, 2021 9:11 PM

> All is calm, all is bright….

Well, I put a lot of psychological elbow grease to get there. Kismet has forced me into many conflicts these past months, that I never really brought upon myself. But as a result, I put others around me through changes, because I held firm, while remaining calm and friendly through it all. This can’t HELP but ripple outward with a positive impact. It eventually doesn’t remain within my own bubble of existence. Or, look at it another way, and you can say my bubble has dramatically expanded!

I can’t help but be astounded at how supportive Morey has been to my dog rescue project! He’s a bodhisattva who plays my ally.

– Zeke K-Holmes

Re: Republican Calls For A Holy War
From: Carlyle Lambourne
To: Zeke’s Mailing List
Date: October 6, 2021 7:32 AM


Conversely, we should have shock troops to take down Steve Bannon.

That creep had been down in Brazil, plugging for the election of Jair Bolsonaro, who said he would want a gay son dead. Bolsonaro also only praised how the U.S. had wiped out indigenous people and now “did not have a problem with them”,
as “Brazil did”. Under Bolsonaro, indigenous people have suffered a sharp increase in attacks, enough to bring charges of genocide. There has been been increased decimation of rain-forest under Bolsonaro’s Trump-like “screw the
environment”, money-hungry attitude.

Similiarly, Bannon praised Judge Roy Moore to the stars, calling him “righteous”, no matter how Moore had called gays “indescribably evil.” The mainstream media to my knowledge never even mentioned the detail, how Moore had links on this web-site to Christian Reconstructionists who wanted death for gays.

Bannon has also expressed admiration for Italian fascists. The worst fascists of all are the “philosophical fascists,” who don’t see themselves as just thugs and power-grabbers and haters, but as intellectual deep-thinkers of what is best for society.

Bolsonaro, the good Catholic, like many dictators before him, touts “family values” as a cue from the U.S right-wing game plan.

We should not go peacefully into that night. People like Bannon, Moore, Bolsonaro should all have bullets in them, same attitude toward them as they take toward us. These people are far, far too gone to even think of reasoning with them. With Christian, gibbering freaks, you can hardly have a meaningful exchange of a single sentence, much less a rational discussion. If these people are not put in their place at the ballot box, this would become the reality thrust upon us: gruesome battle in which we suffer and die, or living as crawling worms under the thumbs of fascist thugs.

Regards, Carlyle

Re: Pups in a Blanket
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: October 6, 2021 11:49 AM

> Damned right you did!

Today’s bedbug treatment day, gotta be outta here in two hours. Stress level is less than it’s ever been in previous prep cycles, despite the stupidity of the whole scenario. So I’m kinda proud of how I’ve come to deal with it: just another challenge to overcome re. not getting caught up in anger or depression. I am nonetheless a bit exhausted.

Subject: Deek just saw Arwyn a Few Minutes Ago!
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: October 6, 2021 11:09 PM

Though it was nighttime, and Arwyn was a half block away and diminishing fast, with his back to us. Still, distinctive enough for Deek to recognize him at any time in the future.

I had just stepped out to deliver another sack of dog food to Deek, who was across the street. We have this new policy I came up with, to keep the pups a good distance from my hovel, if he doesn’t plan to let them visit. This way I won’t feel like I’m teasing them with high expectations of coming over, if they’re near the front gate.

As I approached my corner, I espied Arwyn who just turned left up Noe, so as Deek crossed Market Street to pick up the goods, I said while pointing: “Look, that’s Arwyn!”

“Where, where is he?” Deek gasped.

“There! There!” I desperately joggled my pointing arm several times for emphasis…and Deek’s eyes followed. “He’s wearing a white shirt, see? And he always keeps a jacket tied around his waist.”

I figured that, between Arwyn’s habit of securing a jacket upon his hips, and his extraordinary height, Deek would have NO problem spotting him again, on his own.

And I firmly believe Arwyn set that up, timing and all…plus he wore a white dress shirt to make it easy for me to identify him from a distance.

Earlier this evening, I stepped out for a short stroll and came across two halves of a perfectly ripe avocado left behind on the steps of someone’s home. A transparent plastic knife stuck out of one half. I gingerly touched it to discover it was at the peak of perfection, and would be a very tasty addition to my veggie-lentil stew. I looked around to see if anyone was nearby, that it might belong to. Nope. Someone just left it there. (Or maybe a resident of the house those steps belong to, had dashed inside for a moment to grab a shaker of salt or some lime wedges, to complement the avocado. I don’t know; I didn’t hang around.)

So I snatched it up and held it in one open hand and, halfway back home, found a small basket that obviously once held berries or figs from today’s Castro Farmer’s Market. I picked it up and placed the two halves of the avocado in it, with the knife still sticking out…then continued my walk home, enjoying the cool autumn air. Only an hour before had I been able to reenter my room, and I was glad to have gotten everything back into their proper places, including comforters, throw rugs and work station.

Deek had forgotten that today was my bedbug eradication day, and was waiting for me around the back. Where he was seated with the pups, and a bunch of long branches of a marijuana plant, thick with fresh “shake,” which leaves he was in the process of stripping off, in preparation for drying somewhere else, some hidden location I guess, where warm air would blow out from a vent (perhaps a laundromat).

We had a nice visit, but I told him I won’t be able to enter my room for another hour and a half…and it wouldn’t be ready for the pups for another hour after that, if he was planning to have them visit. I sat down on the slanted sidewalk to play with the doggies, who vied for my hugs and scritches. Flaco is so sincere! She stood beside me with one paw raised, looking up at me with great affection. So of course I swept her up in my arms.

Lucky took it all in stride, and just flopped down on his back beside me, and wiggled and made funny snorting sounds while I rubbed his precious belly. Deek was focused all this time on stripping and sorting out the leaves.

That veggie-lentil stew studded with dollops of fresh avocado was drool-worthy BTW!

– Zeke K-Holmes

Click here for a larger view.

Brindlekin Sleepover Tonight!
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: October 7, 2021 8:05 PM

Deek dropped by a half hour ago, said I can have them over for the night…it’s gotten colder outside, so they need a break. He was cordial, nicely dressed, well mannered. Not a smidgeon of erratic behavior or thought to be witnessed. The pups just enjoyed a hearty meal, and are now blissfully tucked in for the night. Flaco loves the new box I found in the basement: deeper and thus more secretive, like a tunnel. She went nuts digging away in it, soon as she entered the hovel. See pic, notice the scratched-out back. It’s dark and cozy in there, I just used some light for the photo. She’s back inside the box right now, she loves the option to hide there, or in the cupboard. Don’t know why neither doggy cares to hide under the cot, as I’ve set it up just for them: a dark, private, comfy space, too!

– Zeke K-Holmes

Subject: Finally!
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: October 6, 2021 9:04 PM

I stepped out for a short stroll while the doggies were deep in puppy dreamland, and lo and behold, I bumped into Boulevard Joe on Noe Street, by the PG&E electric box buried beneath the sidewalk, with the cement lid removed, so he could do his thing, charging several devices.

So I FINALLY got to tell him that, if for some reason, god forbid, Deek should be suddenly carted off to jail or an emergency room, the dogs should be brought to me. Because I don’t want Flaco & Lucky stolen by someone, and they get lost to us forever. Joe said they’d probably deliver ’em to Animal Control, which is worse. I told him if that happens, I should know about that, too, so I can get them out ASAP.

We talked about other things, too, including he and several other street friends are being drawn into an artist’s graphic novel, which is presently a work in progress. I told him I’d love to see it, when it’s ready. So that was a small victory for me, Wattson, towards Deek and pups’ further protection, and I’m SO glad that was finally accomplished.

– Zeke K-Holmes

Re: Finally!
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: October 7, 2021 11:30 PM

> VERY good!!! Animal Control would be a death sentence. It must not happen!

Without a license, and no proof I’m the owner, the dogs would probably be killed in five days. Yes, this is horrific. Deek’s irresponsibility is unfathomable, he does not GRASP the tragedy he could avoid, if only he’d drop his paranoia.

My discovery. Click here for a larger view.

Subject: You will be charmed to see what I discovered…
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: October 8, 2021 12:09 PM

…by the N Judah stop at Duboce Park on Wednesday, on my way to the Inner Sunset. See attached photo.

Re: You will be charmed to see what I discovered…
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: October 8, 2021 12:35 PM

> Ach, my dear old pal….

Yes! His way of saying hello to you, via my hand. I thought it might be another author by the same name, as I didn’t know he wrote any foodie book. But the list of his other publications checks out, including coauthor Gene Siskel. See attachment.

The second pic is the other booklet I found at the stop: very Sixties! Ferlinghetti saying hello to me, I suppose…representing the beat authors in general. Now I muse:

Maybe I should set up a seance table somewhere in the Castro. Perhaps with the Sunday Noe Street artists, whom I look forward to seeing again, in just two days.

A very special NEW anniversary is coming up in my life, good doctor…and really soon. Care to guess what it’s about?

– Zeke K-Holmes

Subject: Another Breakthrough!
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: October 9, 2021 10:34 AM

The dogs have started barking like wild more often as we go up or down the stairs, even without anyone present…mostly because they are either excited to step out or return to my hovel, or because they are announcing their presence. I have been getting them to quiet down, finally, by stopping them two or three times once we’re inside, and affirming with a deep voice: “Keep quiet now! Good doggies.” The treats just don’t work anymore; glad my voice does. At any rate, something REALLY nice occurred this morning:

As we stepped out the front gate for our morning stroll, there was Samuel (chihuahua man) and his two pups (half the size of Flaco & Lucky), on the sidewalk 20 feet away. Of course, my doggies barked up a storm, while the chihuahuas remained calm and silent. I tried pulling the pups towards Noe Street, but they refused to budge…in fact, Flaco escaped her collar and ran up to Samuel’s pooches. She barked and barked, but kept two feet away. I decided at that moment, to let Lucky approach them, as well.

Samuel stood there peacefully, said “It’s alright,” as I placed the collar back on Flaco. Then I handed him some treats, so my pups would quiet down and get to know him. After snatching up the goodies from his open hand, they backed off and resumed their barking, though not quite as vociferous as before. I was able then, to guide them away and in the opposite direction.

I want to note that Samuel seemed very pleased to feed and pet the pups, going by the broad smile on his face. And his chihuahuas seemed not the least bit perturbed by the impromptu meetup. They remained pleasantly blase through it all. Oh, something else:

Yesterday, I saw Flaco pick up another chicken bone, so I got ready to grab onto it, until she’d let go…which is the way it’s been going; she no longer gives any resistance, but allows me to release the bone from her jaws. However, just before I reached out a hand towards her, she dropped the bone and moved on. Amazing!

– Zeke K-Holmes

Subject: Special Anniversary Coming Up Soon!
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: October 9, 2021 6:37 PM

Like you, Wattson, I’m not one for anniversaries of any sort, not just birthdays. However, I will make one exception, and that’s for something I consider important…sacred, even. And it will soon be the FIRST anniversary of this shining event. I’m leaving you to make one guess, before I reveal it. Plus this hint: I have mentioned the date numerous times to you, and is part of my present story cycle. Moving on now:

Deek picked up the pups a few hours ago. Again, he was congenial, clean in appearance and drama free. The pups were glad to be with him once more, and settled right in by his side. It was a warm, sunny afternoon and they basked in the sun’s rays, which made their brindle coats luminous with a golden aura. I brought him more dog food, and took his devices to charge. He said some clever things in jest…forgot what they were, but the main point is his cheerful demeanor. So I complimented him once more, over how well he’s doing, and how impressed I am.

Around two hours later, he returned to pick up his electronics, and told me the dogs are right around the corner, if I want to see them. He then called to someone from twenty feet away: “The dogs are still there, right?” It was Boulevard Joe, and he said, “Yes!” Apparently, he was watching over them, standing at the corner to see both Deek and the pooches, who were located on 16th Street, behind my building.

As I approached him, I was startled to see how nicely dressed he was: spotlessly clean and glowing! “They’re right there,” he said to me, and pointed to their spot, where they sat calmly on a couple of Deek’s jackets. So I spent a few minutes with them: great joy and sweetness all around, group hugs and kisses and belly rubs abounded…as usual. But I want to mention a bit more about Joe:

He was standing there all spiffed out, like a security guard for a celebrity…as if some honorable occasion was happening, in which he played a significant role. As if my own part in this scenario were of great import. Deek HAD said to me, “There’s Boulevard Joe, if you’d like to talk to him!” Knowing I had mentioned to Deek a few times over the months, how I’ve been trying to get a hold of him, but I rarely see him, and when I do, he’s always in a rush.

“Oh, thanks,” I replied, “but I just saw him two nights ago and we had a great conversation.”

I am now purchasing groceries from a corner store OTHER than Morey’s, because they don’t take food stamps, but this one does. It’s in the opposite direction on Noe Street, one block south of Market, where 17th Street intersects. This one’s run by an Arab family, and has been for decades. They are very nice people, and not without a sense of humor. When I stepped up to pay for several items, I said, “I’ll be using my EBT card.”

“Of course you will,” the clerk quipped. I chuckled at that.

I feel bad at having to end my friendly visits at Morey’s, after all the good things that have passed between us. But I can still get sundry goods there, such as dish detergent, toilet paper, Scotch tape and the like. What’s interesting about this OTHER shop, is that is where my now-deceased friend, Carl Betza, used to visit quite frequently, to chat with them, as well as make purchases. He died in October of 2010. I have never gone to that shop since, though have done so once in a blue moon, before his passage. Carl was a long-term friend of both myself and Chuck from Pennsylvania. All three of us lived at 9666 Market, each on a different floor. Sadly, that chapter in my life is long gone. Though I DO converse in my mind with him, quite often…wondering what he’d think of all these changes in the world since he kicked the proverbial bucket. And he DOES tell me, because I have a good idea of what he would say about this pandemic, Donald Trump, Deek and the doggies (he’d LOVE them) and so on.

But let’s see how this shift in my shopping habits will cause some shift in my reality. It’s sort of a big deal for me, since my world is such a small bubble. Anyway, tomorrow is Sunday, thus the street artists will return. I look very much forward to how this second meetup will develop. Miriam is quite the character, and she knows Arwyn very well, it seems! Maybe he’ll even walk by again, like he did last week. I must make a point of actually looking over her paintings, since I neglected to do that last time around. After all, it’s NOT all about me…I’m part of something bigger, and they’re in on it, one way or another.

That’s it for now, but I’m sure I’ll have a passel to report by tomorrow’s eve.

– Zeke K-Holmes

Re: Special Anniversary Coming Up Soon!
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: October 9, 2021 11:41 PM

> Well….does the anniversary have to do with the pups??

Yes. October 30, 2020 is when I wrote and published chapter 1 of Brindlekin Tales. The eve of All Hallow’s Eve. Look how far I’ve come in such a very short time!

> So good that Boulevard Joe has probably thoroughly absorbed the message about the pups, should something happen to Deek.

Glad you picked up on that, because I did not, until some minutes after sending you that email. I’ve never seen Deek and he working together on anything. Though, as bodhisattvas, I’m sure they’ve actually been closely aligned on many missions. So, in a sense, they set up this little scenario, as their way to let me know I am heard and respected. And to affirm in a subtle way, that my suspicions about a secret society are spot on.

– Zeke K-Holmes

Add to this story with your insightful comment:

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: