Danny & Andrew (Part Two)

Posted on by Chris The Story Reading Ape

See Part One HERE

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Good morning, dog fans. It is I, Danny the Dog, back to make your humdrum lives bearable with one of my astounding stories. However, I have no larger than life adventure for you this time. All I have to relay is the rather prosaic goings-on between my human and myself.

As most of you should know by now, my human’s name is Andrew and he can be a pawful. He takes a lot of looking after and a lot of training. And his preaching! It never ends. So (as they say) without further ado, here is today’s narrative.

Those of you who have been following my exploits for some time now will know of my affinity for hot dogs. Yummy! And as you should also know—if you were paying attention—is that Andrew gave me a hot dog every morning after I had taken him for his walk. As I have stated, yummy. But a dog has to try out new things, so a while back, I stopped eating the given hot dogs. Well, not entirely. I’d eat half of it and leave the rest on the dock. That was my way of telling Andrew, I thought it about time that we experiment with new cuisines.

For once, Andrew got the hint. He went to the grocery store and came back with something he called “dog treats.” TREATS! I wouldn’t give them to a cat! I suggested he read the label and see where they were made. “China,” he said. I just stared at Andrew until it dawned on him that was the place that, a few years ago, sent over all that dog food that killed so many pooches. “Okay,” says he. “Let me try again.” And off he went, back to the supermarket.

This time he came back with sliced turkey. Double yummy! He explained that all the dog-type treats were made in China, so he had started looking in the meat aisle to see if there was anything I might like. And lo and behold, he finally did something right—boy, do I love turkey!

Now this is the heart rending part of the story: My training of Andrew.

After turkey came into our lives, Andrew would give me a slice after our morning walk. And I must admit, for a while, I was happy with the single slice, but I was thinking, Why not see how far I can push it? Two slices would be better, three even more better.

I started my campaign by letting loose with a slight bark. Nothing extravagant. Just something to let Andrew know that I was displeased with the meager offering. It didn’t take long for him to get the hint. So I was now getting two slices a day. Time to go to work for that third slice.

But you want to know something? Andrew ain’t as dumb as he looks. He started cutting the slices in half . . . like I wouldn’t notice. Well, that set off the War of the Wills. Every morning, I demanded more, and every morning Andrew would fight me until, just to shut me up, I’d get another “slice.” Albeit they were now coming in half-slices, but those half-slices do add up.

So anyway, here we are months down the road. I’ve gotten Andrew up to five slices, or half-slices if you will, and sometimes, if I really push it, I get a sixth slice. I must admit, when Andrew tells me that I am a royal pain in his butt, he has a point. I will not stop my “demand” barking until I’ve gotten as much as I can get from the old guy.

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But this morning, I think I might have pushed it too far. Andrew was at his computer waiting for someone to email him. No one ever does, but hope springs eternal, I guess. Anyway, I was angling for a seventh slice when he turned to me and said. “What’s wrong with you? You’ve got it made. I wait on you hand and foot. You’ve got complete healthcare—medical and dental. I take you up to the Tiki hut every night so that everyone can make a big deal about the famous Danny the Dog. For a lowly cur, you’ve got it made! Can’t you just leave it at six slices?”

Boy, was he hot under the collar. And did you notice that he called me “a lowly cur”?

There we stood. Eye to eye (sort of). This was going to be the defining confrontation in our relationship. This contest of wills would determine who would henceforth run the household. The seconds ticked by, then the seconds turned into minutes. Neither of us giving ground, neither of us giving quarter to the other.

Then came the moment of destiny. When the history of Danny the Dog is written, students will be taught that this was when Danny the Dog came into his own.

Andrew stood, and with tears in his eyes because of his defeat, gave me a seventh slice of turkey.

Andrew Joyce’s Molly Lee

To find out more about this writing partnership, click on the following links:

Andrew Joyce

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Danny the Dog

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Andrew Joyce Website

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37 thoughts on “Danny & Andrew (Part Two)”

  2. Hi Danny, Bobby Dog here. I don’t know what your origins are – I’m the product of a Lhasa Apso X Norfolk Terrier, this means I have very short legs so when I sit up (my human thinks I am ‘begging’ but I call it my Meerkat mode) I have a very square base and can maintain the position for ages. This appealing pose is an almost sure fire method of gaining ‘treats’, although I live in the UK these treats are German made and are YUMMY. However if my human is busy she will try and ignore me (I say try because she really is on a hiding to nothing) so then I bring in the vocals, not a bark and not a whine (I will not lower myself to whining) but a sort of sing-song middle ground with a little ‘chuntering’ thrown in for good measure – then when I’ve got her undivided attention I’ll throw in the odd wink – works every time.

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  7. Hi Danny, Pinky the Cat here. Great story. In my opinion, Andrew owed you that 7th slice after calling you a lowly cur. That was a low blow. One of my humans gives our dogs a hot dog wrapped in cheese, wrapping in bologna. My other human thinks that’s ridiculous, but those girls turn on the charm and get what they want. I’ll recommend that they bark and maybe they can get cheeseburgers 🙂

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    • Never mind Andrew. He’s doing fine. He sells two or three books a year. What else can he spend all that royalty money on if not on Yours Truly? And by the way. Everytime i reply to one of your comments, I get nervous. The reply has to be perfect. I probably blew it by putting “yours truly” in caps. Now I blew it again because I put it in quotes!!!!

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      • Don’t worry, Danny. I don’t go around correcting people’s spelling, grammar, or capital letters in public. That wouldn’t be very nice, now would it? I do occasionally tease the Ape about a mistake, but not to be mean. ❤ 🙂

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