Ellroy V. Pocket Gopher

he tore my lawn all to hell.

a so-called "pocket gopher."

Thomomys botta.

and on a sunny weekday afternoon, as a stiff breeze rolled off the hill, he met Ellroy.

Canis familiaris...

battle fatigue

war is all hell

Mr. Hellroy

down near his crotch, he doesn't like to be touched.

he'll growl.

and show his teeth, just for a bit.

but Ellroy's normally simpatico -- a happy grinning pooch with an ever wagging tail.

eye's bright, shiny, alert.

now throw in Annabel; his wire-haired girlfriend of sorts, and we've got Mr. Hell-roy.

as if he's embarrassed. doesn't want anyone near his man parts.

'cept Annabell.

i can respect that.

who'd want a grown man itching around their crotch with the wife standing near-by?

not me.

but now -- an uneventful Monday afternoon -- with writing calling, Ellroy's back to his old self.

Mr. Hunky-Dory.

jumping on my lap for kisses.

and some huggin's.

burying his head behind my ear.

currently snugged up against me as i type.

looking up ever so often, making sure i'm still there.

he'll smile, an honest to God doggy smile.

few pats on the back, flip of the ear, a "good boy."

he's longer now. and his coat is deep deep brown like rust.

no more peach fuzz.

and that's how it goes.

because the kid's growing up.

-- matter of fact, he's looking @ me right now. eye's big and bold. letting me know it's time for dinner.

and yep, it sure is.

first blood

he had a penchant for gnawing on surplus MREs and dropping deuces on fine linen.

and that baby butt soft wool.

a mouse -- mus musculus

disease spreading house mouse.

with little yellowed teeth and fleas.

and it was slain today.

Ellroy -- my boy -- done got some.

a confirmed kill.

(lets hope dogs don't get PTSD...)

hunting wabbit

up in victorville, cotton tails and jack rabbits abound.

and it sure made Ellroy's day...

Ellroy and the Beach

down the road, rounding portuguese bend, you'll find yourself isolated and alone -- a real beach; rocky and without sand trucked in by the city.

go down a cliff. whichever. but go down a cliff and wear good shoes.

leave the sandals @ home.

rattlesnakes afoot.

and bring a girl.

a pretty girl with dark hair and red, red lips.

bikini top and daisy dukes.

@ least that's the general idea.

hell, Ellroy didn't seem to miss the girl.

happy as a clam, he was.

Ellroy numero dos ~

it was in her bedroom.

Granny's.

Ellroy chilling in the cut.

scamming on the mellow.

and POOF!

i smell it.

perfume. old lady-type.

the pooch looks up, just up in the air.

ears shifting like a satellite acquiring a feed.

head skyward.

eyes bright. pupils deep deep black.

shinning.

a moment.

and then he smiles.

(least that's what i think...)

the bear

remember when i 1st saw this.

think my old man took me.

back when i was a kid.

before alota things.

there was Bear; golden retriever.

and Tiffany; beagle.

Bastardo; columbian boa constrictor.

can't forget Odiferus Clitorous Clay; the bullfrog...

but what a great movie.

gotta write something like this...maybe about little old Ellroy.

wandering the wilds of Los Angeles (God forbid).

'cus all ya gotta do is feed him.

rub him.

walk him.

and he loves ya.

just like that.

ellroy.

-- a little bear.