Wednesday, May 13, 2015


Here's an excerpt from I AM DACHSHUND, Book 2 of THE DACHSHUND ESCAPADES.  Remember it will be free on Amazon from Friday, May 15 through Saturday, May 16.  Save this link and click on it then to get your free copy:

NOTE:  The bold text in red are Sarge the doxie's thoughts

From Chapter 6 - Tate and Joey, a.k.a. The Fuzz Brothers

Tate, "Fuzz Ball"
Joey, "Mr. Slick"
Tate was in fact swiping at my ear, watching it flap back and forth. Hey, Fuzz Ball, leave the ears alone—they’re sensitive, and I’m kinda partial to ’em. He had a playful glint in his eye, so I returned the favor by lightly nipping on one of his front paws. Taken by surprise, he squeaked out a meow and fell back against Bethany’s arm, blinking those big kitty eyes. I know—you simply cannot believe that I would do such a thing, right? Since they want us to be buddies, we might as well start now!

I gave a sociable bark, and Bethany put Tate and me down on the floor. We just stared at each other for a while, although I did display my best doggie smile, wag my tail, and make some friendly moves toward him.  He is pretty small and just a baby, so I won’t hurt him—unless, of course, he gets too rambunctious—then I’ll have to show him who’s boss.

“Oh, I hope they don’t get into a fight,” said Bethany. “Look how Sarge is jumping at him—but Tate’s just standing there and staring!”

“I think Tate is just sizing up the dawg,” said Kurt. “And Sarge is wagging his tail, so that’s a good sign. I don’t  think Tate really knows what to make of him, so he’s evaluating what Sarge is actually up to.”

If you are just gonna stand there and stare, I believe I’ll go over to the sliding glass doors and see what’s outside. Maybe I can get a glimpse of those geese Aunt Bethany was telling me about. I whirled around to trot over to the doors when I heard a “Meeeoowww!” just as that pesky cat had the nerve to jump onto my back!

Kurt and Bethany both laughed. “Oh boy, Sarge—he’s done that to Joey several times, and they end up rolling around on the floor, so now we’ll see what you are made of!” Kurt hollered. I know you just want to play, but I DO NOT allow cats on my back. Therefore, you’d better hold on, Fuzz Ball, ‘cause you’re gonna get the ride of your life! You’ll be off my back in no time.
Kurt and Bethany
To that end, I began tearing around the apartment as fast as my short legs would go, with Tate hanging on for all he was worth. I looked back over my shoulder: You won’t be holding on for long, my dear Cattiness! Around the living room we sped, dodging furniture and displacing throw rugs, then into the kitchen where we skidded across the vinyl floor, disturbing a dishtowel hanging on the oven door. It came loose and landed on top of Tate’s head. Kurt, who had been following us with glee, yelled to Bethany, “Hey, Tate looks like an Arabian sheik on a runaway horse!”

As we thundered on through the dining room, under the table and around the chairs, Bethany fell onto the couch hysterical, nearly choking. I had to hand it to him: Sheik Tate was still hanging on as we dashed down the hall. I didn’t know what was down that way, but I’d shortly find out. Glancing back at Tate still gripping my short fur tightly, I didn’t really appreciate his claws digging into my back: Had enough yet? No? Okay, then, here we go again!

As we rounded the doorway, we skidded into a room which appeared to be an office. Something  smelled extremely unpleasant in there—oh, that gray plastic container must be what they call a “litter box.” DUSGUSTING. Avoiding that, I turned sharply beside a bookcase and zoomed back out into the hall and across to the other room. With the sharp turn, Tate slipped down to my side, but managed to climb back on and get a better grip—ouch—and held grimly on. This room had to be the bedroom—I saw a bed on the other side of the room as well as other bedroom furniture. I decided to dive under the bed because I calculated that it was too low for Tate under there, too, so I’d be able to unseat him when I made my dive.

As I raced toward the bed, all set to dive, a loud hiss came from underneath it, so I immediately decided  to change course. Aha—so THAT’S where Joey’s hiding. I’ll make a mental note of that so I can annoy him later. Bound for the closet now with Tate meowing loudly, I thought he was getting tired of hanging on. Well, I was getting tired of it, too, so we made a couple of laps around the closet floor, knocking shoes out of their orderly placement and scattering a stack of magazines in the corner. I still felt the pain of his claws digging in as we shot back into the living room once again!

Kurt and Bethany were sitting on the floor in a fit of laughter and wiping their eyes. Holding his cell phone, Kurt was all set to take our picture as we galloped past them. So—you want something to remember this moment, do you? Then you’d better get ready to take the snapshot of your life!
I darted in front of them, then stopped abruptly, causing Tate’s back paws to loosen their grip. His body, except for his front paws and head, shot upward, then back down; the sudden stop caused him to fall forward, nearly over my head. Kurt managed to snap the picture just as Tate was in midair, barely hanging on with his front paws.

Tate landed on my back once again, so I dived under the end table, where Tate finally let go and fell off—with the  dishtowel that had covered his head on the floor beside him. Rolling onto his back, he looked up at Bethany and Kurt as if to say, What did I get myself into?? I made my way over to the fireplace and flopped down, my work done. I was tired, too.

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