Honey Dog Tales
By
Walt Perryman
Chapter One
This is a presentation of Honey Dog's Memories and Advice and includes both tales and poems by Honey Dog and her secretarial assistant and Master, Walt Perryman.
Honey Dog’s Poem
I am a dog, and my name is Honey.
My master is a poet and thinks he is funny .
People will never know what I go through.
The stuff I put up with and stuff I do .
He gives me dog food that is all stale,
Then expects me to be happy and wag my tail.
He throws sticks and balls for me to fetch,
Then throw Frisbees in the air for me to catch.
He took me to the Veterinarian and got me fixed,
Should I love or bite him the feeling is mixed.
I am thinking about leaving my master someday.
I think I was better off, back when I was a stray.
But I will probably stay with him until I die,
Because that is what dogs do, I am not sure why.
I do not know what to do with this man,
I will try to take care of him the best I can.
I am a dog, and my name is Honey,
I am paid with love instead of money.
* * * * *
A Tale Written by Honey Dog 3/8/2007
“Bow Wow”!!! We just turned on the Luckenbach Loop road, Now, If the right bartender is there, I can finally get some jerky. I thought to myself as my so-called, master, Walt the poet, pulled into the parking area and almost hit Virgil. I love Virgil because he hollers out, “you can’t bring that to Luckenbach”. My master got mad when Virgil added, “Honey, I am talking to you”!
There was a large herd of humans, all kinds of people, bikers, cowboys, city slickers, and musicians. I stopped in my tracks and pointed to the three chickens and one bad rooster on the left of the first trash can. Then my Poet on the other end of my leash almost pulled my neck off, the jerk, he never watches where I am going, if I stop to use the rest room, about the time I get to going good, whap!! The “poet” hits the end of my rope. What a jerk, if I ever make it back to the dog pound, I will pick a more caring master.
As we head up to the oak tree to the picker circle, I survey the group, Yep, most of the regular singing pickers and they are grinning. Oh no!! That same old pit bull over by the bathrooms, that son of a bad piece of jerky, I have been wanting a piece of him, he is so arrogant and big, he thinks he taunts me, but I got his number, I may be little but I have watched my master in action before and I happen to know a few tricks, I have learned from him when he is in front of his mirror at home. I hope, I do not have to go into action, but I am ready if that big piece of dog meat comes within my lease range. This lease range is my territory.
Hopefully, my master will shorten my lease a bit before we get to close. I do have my perimeter to protect, but I had rather go inside and beg for jerky while my master tells his stupid stories, I have heard them so many times that I could bark them out. Then he drinks a few beers and when we go home I have to drive, I have so much sticky stuff on my paws from all of the duct tapes he uses to stick my paws to the steering wheel, I feel like a piece of Velcro. If he threw me up to the ceiling, I would stick to it.
I am just trying to let you know what it is like to be a dog and still love people. Have a good day! Bark, bark!
* * * * *
(To Be Continued. See Me Next Issue.)
© 3/8/2007 Honey Dog
with Secretarial Assistant and Master Walt Perryman
Click on author's byline for bio and list of other works published by Pencil Stubs Online.
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