Brown Dog/ guest blog
The following are the creative writing assignment guest blogs from our guests Don & Kim of Moonrise:
The rain returned after midnight, it came hurrying down the steep hills like a vagrant anxious to pass through a sleeping town, being swept along on a warm Caribbean wind that left the boats in Sopers Hole Marina tugging at spring lines and cleats like a corral of unsettled Mustangs.
It was not yet 5am and I awoke hourly to the rhythmic creaks and moans of a boat that sat safely in a slip but protested this comfort for want of an anchorage, which remains a cruising boats true place of rest.
As the night sky returned to a wallpaper of stars I padded in bare feet past the rows of tethered sailboats grateful for what remained of the night and its solitude. I needed time to reflect on our two weeks of friends and salt water before catching the ferry to St Thomas to begin our travels back to Oregon.
At the end of the pier I discovered a dry place to sit and watch the water dance along the hulls and torment dinghies that seemed intent on separating their painters from cleats.
“Rainy night.” A voice said from behind me.
“After two weeks of great weather and sailing its best that I don’t complain.” I tossed the words over my shoulder not bothering to look back.
“You must be heading home...”
“Yep, my wife and I our heading back this morning to Portland.”
The voice moved along side of me stretching fully and volunteering a dramatic yawn to the sky.
“Ahh, the Pacific Northwest sounds nice...lots a trees out there.” The voice found a seat next to me and shook the chilling sea breeze from his shoulders.
It took a moment and I know I blinked my eyes hard enough to be heard, which is why my early morning companion was kind enough to relieve me of my burden.
“Oh yes, I’m a dog. Well a brown dog I guess. And I talk too. That is to say we all talk when we want to but I admit I’m a bit chatty at times.”
I thought about my use of medication and rum for a second before saying anything.
“Oh well, that’s alright, I am too.” I said, “Chatty that is.” I cleared my throat and tried to act natural the way people do when they want to blurt out “Holy crap!”
“A brown dog over on Cane Garden Bay told me that the six of you had quite a time. Is it true you were wearing a women’s bathing suit in public?” His ears pricked forward when he laughed his dog laugh and I had to repress the sudden urge to pet him.
“Its nothing to me, but people might get the impression you’ve been neutered.”
“So all the dogs talk to one another?” I asked.
“Sure, why not. You know its a telepathy kind of thing, something you two leggers haven’t picked up just yet.” He rolled over and exposed his pink belly and said, “Hey, be a pal, how’s about a quick rub.”
“Oh sure... Glad to buddy, or whatever your name is.”
“Oh we don’t bother with names so brown dog is fine.”
“In fact, the other brown dogs have told me that you guys had a great time in the Caribbean. Snorkeling, hiking, sailing, playing on Hobies, drinking and merry laughter to all hours on the beach at Prickly Pear.” He rolled from one side to the other flopping his tail about as he spoke. “Right there...scratch the ribs for me.”
“Well the beach cats actually told us that... But, you know, were cool.”
“What about the goats, did they add anything?” I asked as he sprung back to all fours.
“Man that was a good belly scratch, thanks a million. Goats, ha, no way. Those guys are just as dumb as a hammer.”
He leaned in as if to insure he had my attention. “The reason you see goats standing on top of things all the time is they are like...lost. They will climb up on something and get stuck there. Idiots. Nice enough once you get past that goat smell, just not too smart. Then with the baaa baaa stuff half the night, which incidentally means absolutely nothing, they just do it. Compulsive nature I guess.”
I rubbed his ears and he smiled. “Now you’re getting it.”
You two leggers are learning but it’s tough being plagued with a thumb. Throughout history its the thumb that has been your problem.” His brow furrowed and he seemed to give his words serious thought. “Dogs don’t shoot or stab anyone. We cant, no thumb. Never built a bomb or wrecked a car, never stole an election or told a lie. Again, no thumb. I have often felt a great amount of compassion for the two leggers and the cards that nature dealt you. Maybe evolution will eventually allow that silly thing to fall off.” His gaze fell out over the water and he settled on his hindquarters. “Oh dear, I am sorry, there I go being chatty again.”
We sat quiet for a moment and I rubbed the top of his head and ears and there was only the sound of the sea and the occasional thump of his tail on the planks.
“See how easy this is?” he said. “As simple as finding shade under a table or a scratch on the belly. Live for the little joy. That’s my advice. And try not to let your thumbs cause any trouble.”
Brown dog stood and sniffed the breeze. “Going to rain again.” he threw back at me as he trotted up the dock.
“By the way,” I asked, “we wondered if dogs have souls?”
He stopped to sample something that only his nose could see before looking up.
“Now you’re just being silly.” he said with a hint of a British accent before disappearing behind the dark store fronts.
I stood and stretched as the rain began. “I bet Glenn has the coffee on.” I smiled and headed home.
Don
Kim’s highlights from her vacation….
Beach
Sun
Books
Barbeque
Pizza and American Pie
Blender drinks
Bikini Man
Fresh coconut
Dinghy rescue
Brown dog
Day Sails
Snorkeling
Swimming
Sand Flies on the Beach
Hamburgers and Brats
Star-gazing
Bloomin’ onion and conch
Hobie racing
Turtles, Stingray and Barracuda
Island Hikes
Kayaks
Sunrises and sunsets
Happy Arrrr
Spaghetti dinner
Margaritas and Enchiladas
Fried Snickers and Fried Plantains
Sausage Balls
Guitars and Cigars
Hammock
Shopping
Cinnamon coffee
Sausage Biscuits and Gravy
SILLY amount of Peanuts
Rock Climbing
Mast climbing
Sailing in a storm
Laughter
Tall tales
Southern food
Southern hospitality
Life long Friends
Loved it
Love you!
Kim
The rain returned after midnight, it came hurrying down the steep hills like a vagrant anxious to pass through a sleeping town, being swept along on a warm Caribbean wind that left the boats in Sopers Hole Marina tugging at spring lines and cleats like a corral of unsettled Mustangs.
It was not yet 5am and I awoke hourly to the rhythmic creaks and moans of a boat that sat safely in a slip but protested this comfort for want of an anchorage, which remains a cruising boats true place of rest.
As the night sky returned to a wallpaper of stars I padded in bare feet past the rows of tethered sailboats grateful for what remained of the night and its solitude. I needed time to reflect on our two weeks of friends and salt water before catching the ferry to St Thomas to begin our travels back to Oregon.
At the end of the pier I discovered a dry place to sit and watch the water dance along the hulls and torment dinghies that seemed intent on separating their painters from cleats.
“Rainy night.” A voice said from behind me.
“After two weeks of great weather and sailing its best that I don’t complain.” I tossed the words over my shoulder not bothering to look back.
“You must be heading home...”
“Yep, my wife and I our heading back this morning to Portland.”
The voice moved along side of me stretching fully and volunteering a dramatic yawn to the sky.
“Ahh, the Pacific Northwest sounds nice...lots a trees out there.” The voice found a seat next to me and shook the chilling sea breeze from his shoulders.
It took a moment and I know I blinked my eyes hard enough to be heard, which is why my early morning companion was kind enough to relieve me of my burden.
“Oh yes, I’m a dog. Well a brown dog I guess. And I talk too. That is to say we all talk when we want to but I admit I’m a bit chatty at times.”
I thought about my use of medication and rum for a second before saying anything.
“Oh well, that’s alright, I am too.” I said, “Chatty that is.” I cleared my throat and tried to act natural the way people do when they want to blurt out “Holy crap!”
“A brown dog over on Cane Garden Bay told me that the six of you had quite a time. Is it true you were wearing a women’s bathing suit in public?” His ears pricked forward when he laughed his dog laugh and I had to repress the sudden urge to pet him.
“Its nothing to me, but people might get the impression you’ve been neutered.”
“So all the dogs talk to one another?” I asked.
“Sure, why not. You know its a telepathy kind of thing, something you two leggers haven’t picked up just yet.” He rolled over and exposed his pink belly and said, “Hey, be a pal, how’s about a quick rub.”
“Oh sure... Glad to buddy, or whatever your name is.”
“Oh we don’t bother with names so brown dog is fine.”
“In fact, the other brown dogs have told me that you guys had a great time in the Caribbean. Snorkeling, hiking, sailing, playing on Hobies, drinking and merry laughter to all hours on the beach at Prickly Pear.” He rolled from one side to the other flopping his tail about as he spoke. “Right there...scratch the ribs for me.”“Well the beach cats actually told us that... But, you know, were cool.”
“What about the goats, did they add anything?” I asked as he sprung back to all fours.
“Man that was a good belly scratch, thanks a million. Goats, ha, no way. Those guys are just as dumb as a hammer.”
He leaned in as if to insure he had my attention. “The reason you see goats standing on top of things all the time is they are like...lost. They will climb up on something and get stuck there. Idiots. Nice enough once you get past that goat smell, just not too smart. Then with the baaa baaa stuff half the night, which incidentally means absolutely nothing, they just do it. Compulsive nature I guess.”
I rubbed his ears and he smiled. “Now you’re getting it.”
You two leggers are learning but it’s tough being plagued with a thumb. Throughout history its the thumb that has been your problem.” His brow furrowed and he seemed to give his words serious thought. “Dogs don’t shoot or stab anyone. We cant, no thumb. Never built a bomb or wrecked a car, never stole an election or told a lie. Again, no thumb. I have often felt a great amount of compassion for the two leggers and the cards that nature dealt you. Maybe evolution will eventually allow that silly thing to fall off.” His gaze fell out over the water and he settled on his hindquarters. “Oh dear, I am sorry, there I go being chatty again.”
We sat quiet for a moment and I rubbed the top of his head and ears and there was only the sound of the sea and the occasional thump of his tail on the planks.
“See how easy this is?” he said. “As simple as finding shade under a table or a scratch on the belly. Live for the little joy. That’s my advice. And try not to let your thumbs cause any trouble.”
Brown dog stood and sniffed the breeze. “Going to rain again.” he threw back at me as he trotted up the dock.
“By the way,” I asked, “we wondered if dogs have souls?”
He stopped to sample something that only his nose could see before looking up.
“Now you’re just being silly.” he said with a hint of a British accent before disappearing behind the dark store fronts.
I stood and stretched as the rain began. “I bet Glenn has the coffee on.” I smiled and headed home.
Don
Kim’s highlights from her vacation….
Beach
Sun
Books
Barbeque
Pizza and American Pie
Blender drinks
Bikini Man
Fresh coconut
Dinghy rescue
Brown dog
Day Sails
Snorkeling
Swimming
Sand Flies on the Beach
Hamburgers and Brats
Star-gazing
Bloomin’ onion and conch
Hobie racing
Turtles, Stingray and Barracuda
Island Hikes
Kayaks
Sunrises and sunsets
Happy Arrrr
Spaghetti dinner
Margaritas and Enchiladas
Fried Snickers and Fried Plantains
Sausage Balls
Guitars and Cigars
Hammock
Shopping
Cinnamon coffee
Sausage Biscuits and Gravy
SILLY amount of Peanuts
Rock Climbing
Mast climbing
Sailing in a storm
Laughter
Tall tales
Southern food
Southern hospitality
Life long Friends
Loved it
Love you!
Kim
posted by Glen Phillips at
Saturday, February 24, 2007
