Danny and the Crab

Danny and the Crab

Danny & Sailboat

Howdy folks, it’s been a while since we’ve talked and I have a lot to tell you. My human and I have been having some fine ol’ adventures. Well, maybe fine is not the exact word I’m looking for. But we have been keeping busy. I’m Danny the Dog and my human is called Andrew. A silly name I know, not as cool as “Danny,” but he’s okay for a human.

I’ll start with the light stuff first. As I said, Andrew is okay for a human, but he does leave a lot to be desired. Do you know he hasn’t bought me a chew toy in years? I’m talking about those rawhide things. Yummy! Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not a toy type of dog, but I do like a good chew just like everyone else.

Anyway, we were out walking around the marina about a week and a half ago when we happened upon Chloe. She’s my friend, a chocolate lab. She’s only a year old and very playful. Sometimes I will deign to acknowledge her existence, but most of the time I just ignore her. She’s a mite too rambunctious for me, like most females of my acquaintance.

So while she’s bouncing around me and nudging me with her snoot, trying to get me to play with her, I noticed a piece of rawhide lying on the dock. It was half chewed and it was oh-so inviting. Of course, I went over and started to sniff it. Chloe followed me over and put her snoot down to it also. That’s when I had to assert myself. I gave a short bark and little growl to tell her it was now my chew thing. Then I grabbed it and made it officially mine.

I guess Andrew didn’t get the memo. He tried to take it from me while telling me stealing was not a good thing. Lucky for Andrew that Chloe’s human, Jeff, was there or Andrew would have lost a finger or two. Jeff told Andrew that it was all right for me to have the treasure. We went home and I sat out on the dock and chewed the thing until it was no more. All in all, it was a very good day. However, the next day, as you shall soon see, was a day that will live in infamy.

At the moment, I’m torn between telling you of my harrowing escape from the jaws of death or to tell you about Andrew’s slight little run-in with mortality. I guess I’ll save the best for last.

Here’s what happened to Andrew:

I was out walking him a few evenings ago and I was doing my usual sniffing. I caught the scent of a chicken bone or two in the vicinity and went on alert. Unfortunately, Andrew did also. The place we were walking is infamous for chicken bones, so Andrew was watching me like a hawk. And because he was looking at me, and not where he was walking, he slipped on an exposed root. His foot went into a small depression and we both heard a loud SNAP! His only comment: “Let’s go home while I can still walk.” He knew the pain and the swelling would soon set in and he wanted to be on the boat when that happened. He wanted to be near his pain medicine … I believe humans call it Vodka. Well, long story short, Andrew had broken something in his ankle, but we don’t know what. He has a doctor friend, who offered to x-ray it for him at no cost, but the idiot (Andrew, not the doctor) said, and I quote, “We know something is broken, so the x-ray will only tell us what we already know. I’ll be fine.” I reckon you can’t argue with that.

Now to the important news . . . what happened to ME last Saturday. Andrew is not the only wounded member of this household.

As I’ve told you all before, Saturday is the day the male humans escape their females and come to the Tiki hut to drink beer and talk of manly things. Andrew is not a guy type of guy; he’s kind of a sissy, so he doesn’t hang out with the other males. Me, I like the guys and I am always happy to spend some time with them. Andrew usually brings me up there on Saturdays and leaves me for a few hours so that I can hang out. Then he goes back to the boat before the fresh air kills him. But this Saturday Andrew had some business to discuss with his friend Don, so he stayed around.

After Don and the other males made a big show of welcoming me, Andrew tied my leash to a tree. (For some reason, Andrew doesn’t trust me, so I’m always on the damn leash.) But I didn’t mind, there was a new scent on the ground and I was in heaven.

I followed the scent over to a log where it was the strongest … oh joy! There was a crevasse at the middle of the log and I poked my snoot into it. That’s when I got the surprise of my life. Out came a crab. But I was undaunted … his pincher claw did not faze me at all, no siree bob it did not!

This is going to be fun, I thought. I barked and backed him up a bit. Then he raised his big claw over his head in a defensive position. That’s when my world was turned upside down. He clamped his big ol’ claw right on my beautiful nose! Yeow and double yeow! I let out with a cry that sent Andrew scurrying over, bad foot and all. When he saw what had happened, he had the temerity to laugh at me.

Now the two of us sit on the boat staring at one another. Andrew has ice on his ankle and I have ice on my nose. Actually, there is more ice in Andrew’s vodka drink than on his ankle.

Here we sit, just two old males wishing for better times. And I’m not about to forget his laughter during my darkest moment. My Waterloo if you will. As I write these words, I am plotting my revenge.

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27 thoughts on “Danny and the Crab

  1. Zowee ouch dadgumit! I got pinched by a crab once — on my toe. Hurt like the dickens. Glad Jeff spoke up and Andrew let you have the rawhide, Danny. Humans always think they know what’s best for their critter companions. Wonder how they’d feel if they were tethered to a pole and told to behave. Keep on keeping Andrew in line. You know what’s good for him better than he does. Of course, I had to share this most excellent adventure on all my pages. People need to see a dynamo dog in action 🙂

    Liked by 3 people

  2. Hey Danny, Pinky the Cat here. This story made me yowl with laughter. Sorry about your brushes with mortality. Cats don’t have run-ins with crabs, and we always land on our feet. It must be a dog/human thing that leads to all the misadventures. I hope you both are on the mend. I’m going to go sprawl on my human’s laptop now. See ya.

    Liked by 4 people

    • Pinky . . . Pinky . . . Pinky . . . what am I gonna do with you? Laptops are for other things. If you want to inconvenience your human, you have to stretch out on the bed and leave no room for her. Some nights, I got it so Andrew has to sleep in the fetal position. But I’m always very comfy (and I have plenty of room). And by the way . . . “yowl” . . .??? I haven’t heard that word in a dog’s age, if you’ll excuse the expression.

      Liked by 3 people

    • Hi Catherine —

      Let’s not get off on the wrong foot here. Of course, I refer to this: “I had not laughed ALL DAY until I came to visit and read this cute post!” That’s my problem with Andrew . . . he laughed at me too. I’m a sensitive dog. And you, being an artist (with words), must be sensitive also. So . . . I won’t laugh if you ever get pinched on the nose by a crab, and please afford me the same courtesy.

      Your friend,

      Danny

      Liked by 4 people

      • YOU got it Danny! And just so you know? I have been crabbing on the Oregon Coast many time and have been pinched many times by those little crab critters! Just not on the Nose! … Very, very nice to meet you Danny. And I promise I won’t laugh at you, I will laugh with you in future posts XO 🙂

        Author, Catherine Lyon

        Liked by 3 people

  3. HI Danny! Angel here. My human let me use the computer for a little while. She hogs it all the time. I am indeed sorry to hear about your run-in with the crab. How terribly undignified to have people laughing! I’m just glad it wasn’t a skunk. You and your human have had a very difficult week. I hope his ankle is strapped up and the vodka continues to be poured. Don’t let him overdo, or you won’t have someone to take you on your adventures!

    Liked by 3 people

  4. I always love reading about your adventures, Danny! My name is Sophie and I’m a country dog now. I used to be a city dog, but somehow or other I got lost and had a very scary time for a while before my new person, Susan, took me home from a “shelter.” (shudder) I also came from a much warmer place where they didn’t have this white stuff. It’s very interesting, but cold, on the ground. Unfortunately, it has no taste. 😦

    Liked by 2 people

    • Hi Sophie — I envy you being a country dog. It wouldn’t matter to me, though. (Can you ask Susan if I put the comma in the right place in the preceding sentence? Thanks. Those commas always throw me for a loop.)

      Wherever we live, I’m destined to wear this damn leash. So there would be no country freedom for moi. Susan sounds like a good egg for taking you home from the shelter. With me, it works the other way. Andrew is always telling me that if I don’t start behaving myself, the police will come and take me to “doggie jail.”

      And don’t get me started on that “white stuff.” Andrew’s been telling me about dogs that actually pull sleds through that stuff. The indignity!!!!

      Liked by 3 people

      • Hi Danny, Susan said that “comma” thing you asked about is fine. As for leashes, as a city dog I always had one. I’m so used to it that when one isn’t on—with a corresponding person at the end of it—I get quite nervous and scared. 😀

        Liked by 3 people

  5. Danny! Have you ever laughed so hard at something that you made yourself short of breath and dizzy? Well, that’s what you just did to me with this tale…I can barely see straight to even type this! Of course, if I had actually seen this misfortune of yours, I most certainly would NOT have laughed, unlike your old human. Where was his compassion?? (By the way, have you written your revenge story yet?)

    Liked by 3 people

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