Oh Henry! part 4 ~ the end

Jarred fell to the ground and covered his face. 'Two gun shots?!? Dad is a perfect shot, so why were there two gun shots.' He thought to himself. "Jarred! Stay right there, and keep your eyes covered." Mr. Crow shouted. He didn't want his son to see what was going on. Jarred heard his father move closer and he just had to look. "HENRY!" Jarred cried out in a sudden gasp of air. He saw Henry laying on the ground a few feet away. "Is he dead dad? Is Henry dead?" Jarred frantically asked with a crack in his voice. "NO!" His dad shouted. "No. He's not dead, help me get him up and into the car!" Then while side stepping the lawnmower he left in the middle of the lawn, another gasp. "WHAT'S THAT OVER THERE?" Jarred asked backing away. "Never mind that, just help me carry Henry to the car." They gently picked him up and put him in the back seat. There was a little bit of blood and a little whimpering coming from Henry. Jarred sat in the back seat and tried to comfort the grown pup. "It's okay boy. Dad didn't mean to shoot you." Jarred said. "I sure as heck did." Mr. Crow replied back. "Well at first." He muttered to him self. Mr. Crow pressed hard on the gas pedal. "Hold on to Henry, Jarred." His dad said as they rounded another corner. Then all of then sudden Mr. Crow slams on the break, puts the car in park and jumps out. Jarred looked to see his dad run across the street to the sheriff’s car. He tried intently to listen, but Henry whimpered again, and he only heard Mr. Crow say the word ‘backyard’. Then as his dad came back he saw the cop car lights flash and heard the siren as his dad put their car back in gear and off they went. Momma Meyers and Stephen just got home and walked into the house when Mr. Meyers turned them right back around. They got in their station wagon and headed out the drive. Stephen was a bit occupied with the cast and all until he saw the flashing blue and red lights as his dad pulled up to Jarred’s house. Mr. Meyers jumped out of the front seat, then stuck his head back in the car to say "STAY HERE! Both of you." He was only gone for 3 or 4 minutes, when he came back and they started off again.

They drove for about 20 minutes and then pulled into the vets office. "What are we doing here dad?" Stephen asked. Mr. Meyers looked at his wife then turned around in his seat to look his son square in the eye and said. "It's Henry son. He's been shot." Stephen's eyes started to well up, but he just sat there stiff like fiddling with his cast, and listened as his dad explained what was going on. The Meyers' went inside to see Mr. Crow and Jarred sitting in the waiting room. "Hey Jim." Mr. Crow said with a 'I can't believe this is happening' kind of voice. "Hey Bruce. Where's super mutt?" Mr. Meyers asked. Super Mutt was the one nickname that could make the boys smile no matter what was going on. Yet the little grin they both gave seemed painfully forced this time. Jarred stood up and walked over to Stephen to look at his cast and said. "My dad shot him!” They both looked over at Mr. Crow in disbelief. This was the man who would say “Why kill a spider when you can let it go and it will eat the bugs that bug you. & Live and let live.” So why would he shoot Henry? “The vet is operating on him now." Mr. Crow started to explain everything.

"Well Jarred, you were right." He looked around the room at everyone's faces and continued. "There was wolf. I talked to the sheriff briefly and he said that there were a few other sightings, but it was just too hard to believe. So they looked around a bit, but found no real evidence. It left no distinguishable paw prints or doggy piles behind." "Is that what bit Stephen and almost got me?" Jarred interrupted. "Yes. When I saw you in the back yard and caught a glimpse of Henry, I was still under the assumption that Henry attacked you Stephen." He glanced over at Stephen to see him looking at him with eyes asking 'Why'd you shoot my dog'. Mr. Crow looked away with a bit of guilt on his mind. "Anyway, I went in to get my rifle and came back just in time. It seems that Henry was defending the boys. The vet said that Henry's limp was from a bite. And the blood on his face was probably from biting the young wolf back. Sherriff guesses that the wolf got lost from it’s pack up north and well, found it’s way into Gruberville." He stopped for a second to address Jarred and Stephen. "Boys! I'm real sorry that it came down to this. I don't feel like I had much of a choice with you getting ripped open...." He looked over at Stephen. "......and you looking like you were going to be attacked....." He looked over at Jarred. "At first I only saw Henry. And then when I got back to the door with my rifle, he was jumping at Jarred." He looked around for some kind of acknowledgement or justification to his actions. Mr. Meyers nodded his head letting him know that he would have done the same thing. "So my first shot hit Henry, and then I had to jerk my rifle back up to shoot the wolf who was right behind Henry. It all happened so fast. All I can think is that Henry was maybe trying to knock Jarred down to get him out of the way." The boys leaned in and gave Mr. Crow a silent ‘we understand’ hug. Mr. Myers grabbed a Fish & Tackle magazine and sat down.

The door to the operating room opened and everyone stood up and looked toward the door. The vet walked out and said. "Everyone have a seat. Please." And he walked over and sat down with them. "I have some good news for you young Mr. Stephen. Since it was the wolf that bit you, you were in danger of a possibly having rabies. But the Sheriff brought the wolf in the back way, and I've already examined it’s body. There's no sign of rabies, so I'm sure the lab work will come back clean. No worries there." "What about Henry?!?" Both the boys said in harmony. "Well, I removed the bullet and patched him up. However, it's really not looking very good. The gun shot did only a minor damage. It was the wolf’s first attack that did the most. There’s also a nasty infection." The vet looked down at his chart and continued. "With Henry being on the run, since we all thought he was attacker…and with him not getting any medical attention or getting fed for all this time, he is in a pretty weak state. He's just hanging on with the added shock to his body. With all he’s been through I honestly don't think that he's gonna make it. I'm very sorry." He paused for a second and said. "You boys can go in and see him. But remember he's in a lot of pain. I gave him something for it but..."
The boys ran into the operating room. Everyone else followed. The boys were fighting back their tears and trying to be the good pals that they always were. "Henry buddy." Stephen said. I wagged my tail a little bit. "See he's gonna be okay." Jarred said looking back at the vet and pointing at me. I was hurt pretty bad. And if I ever see that wolf again, I'll rip it’s tail off. But 'YAWN' I feel kind of tired right now. I only closed my eyes for a second when I felt a tug on my front paw. "Henry?!? Wake up Henry." I opened my eyes and saw Jarred up close to my face. I couldn't lift my head, but he was close enough so I licked his nose and cheek. Mmmmm! Remnants of BBQ sauce on his cheek. I could go for some of that. (cough cough) "yipe, whimper" I said. I meant "Ouch. That really hurts." I tried to tell everyone not to tell any jokes cause it would hurt too much to laugh, but I think they missed the message. 'YAWN' man am I tired. "Henry! PAL." Jarred was saying as he lightly squeezed my paw again. I licked again but only got air that time. 'YAWN' I closed my eyes again. "Henry! HENRY!" They boys started to shout. I could hear them, and could feel them tugging on my paws, but I wasn't able to open my eyes. "Henry wake up boy." The boys and their mothers started to cry. I think even their fathers had a few tears in there eyes. "Henry wake up. Wake up Henry. Com’on Boy don’t leave us." The voices were starting to fade away, and I thought. 'Why can't I open my eyes?' Then I heard "Henry! I love you boy." "Me too Henry. I love you, you crazy dog." And that just echoed in my head. "you crazy dog, you crazy dog, you crazy dog." Then it all just faded away as I heard "HenryNooooo!"...

"Henry! You lazy dog. Get up." I jumped up. 'Sausage. I smell sausage.' Half a link was dropped to the floor and I instinctively snatched it up. "It's about time you woke up you ole fur ball!" Stephen said, tossing me another half. 'Mmmmmmmm that's sooooo good.' "Yeah. For a minute there, we thought you were dead." Stephen snickered. "Com'on Henry. We're going to the lake." I just stood there looking at them both and thought 'Stephen?!? Where's your cast?' 'And hey, what are we doing in the kitchen?' "Com'on boy. Let's go." Jarred tried coaxing me with another sausage link. "Man, that must have been some kind of dream you were having Henry. With your legs moving like that, we thought maybe you were dreaming about running some kind of race." Stephen said. The boys started out the door. 'Hey wait. There wasn't any race. Hey wait up guys.' I barked to them. 'Hey?!? Is the wolf really dead? Wow, I'm not limping. This is great.' 'HEY Stephen, what exactly did you mean by DREAM?' 'Are we gonna chase the girls today?' BARK 'Hey Jarred, you wanna go for a swim?' Jump, bark, jump, bark. "Hey boys, hey Henry." A voice said from across the street. "Hey Sheriff." They boys said back. 'Bark bark.' I replied.

Comin' Home

I see
I am but an alien
Visiting,
a momentary place in time to hone
Seed that are sown

I’ve been
Saved by grace through faith believe on
Jesus
Everything I am and have’s on loan
Until…

Comin' home
ChorusComin’ Home to see where Jesus sits at the right of the Fathers throne
Casting Crowns of Glory to his feet – for our sin his blood atones
This life’s a vapor, momentary stepping stone

Jesus prepares a place, for those He calls his own
Comin’ Home.

 

Now do you
Know the love I know in Christ
Salvation
Eternally to live where angels have flown
Heaven's own
Comin’ Home.

Musical bridge

One day
they that overcome
shall eat of manna
A new name for each
Written in white stone
Gold streets to roam
This Is Home

We'll be Home to see where Jesus sits at the right of the Fathers throne
Casting Crowns of Glory to his feet – for our sin his blood atoned
This world's a temporary spot for us to roam

Jesus prepares a place for when the trumpet’s blown
Comin’ Home.

Jesus prepares a place for those He calls his own
Are You Comin’ Home?

Written by: Gods inspiration.
Ray Winkleman ©2010
Last verse addition © 04/04/13

Oh Henry! part 3

For a couple of days Henry would slip in and out of the neighborhood to visit the boys. Sometimes the boys would have to hunt for him to see if he was still around and okay. The boys hated it, but they also had to lie several times to avoid others knowing that they had been around Henry. Henry had a slight limp, but he wouldn't let the boys investigate it enough to see what was wrong. They still didn't know if Henry attacked Stephen, but they loved him too much to care. This was their pal, their comrade, their sergeant at arms. Defender of best friends from the other dogs, as well as an avid squirrel, chipmunk, cat, and girl chaser. That was the best part too. Upon command, after much training and practice, Henry would chase "The BOB" away from the club house or the lake. "The BOB" girls would call Henry "That Stupid Dog" and "The Beast of boys". Henry got a few eggs tossed at him now and then. However, most of them missed cause...well because the girls just threw like girls. But Henry didn't care. He didn't take it too personally. The girls talked about selling him or running him off, but secretly they would give him treats when no one was looking. Brush his hair, rub his belly, and once even put clear nail polish on one of his claws. They wondered if the boys would ever notice. They did not. He chased the girls, the girls fought back. And Henry wouldn't have had any respect for them if they didn't fight back sometimes. Henry is a smart dog. If only he could speak that crazy way humans talked. Then he could say what was on his mind. Like 'Instead of me chasing the girls, shouldn't it be you boys' chasing them? Anyway, let’s move on with the story at hand.

Stephen went back to the hospital to get his stitches checked, replaced, and/or removed. He had not been careful as instructed. So there was some further damage showing by way of a slight swelling and evidence of infection. And due to his lack of discipline the Doctor instructed the nurse to put a cast on his arm. This would prevent too much movement of his arm muscles, and allow for a better healing all around. With the cast he had a sling, and the sling would be strapped around his waist to keep him from moving it around. The Doc and Mrs. Meyers made some small talk about the rain that was headed Gruberville’s way, and news of the up and coming local elections. Doc Woc asked Mrs. Meyers if the Dog had all of it's shots. "Well, I think so." She replied. "Why ya askin' Doc?" Stephen inquired. "Because young man, If he didn't have all his shots you might need to get about 21 for yourself? Although that has changed over the years. I’ll have to check the actual count." Doc answered. Stephen's eyes popped open wide. Not liking that prospect very much, he answered quickly. "Henry got all his shots, we have the papers from the vet at the house. Re, remember Mom? You put them in the cookie jar with his license and AKC certificate. Remember? Mom?" He definitely didn't want any shots. Mrs. Meyers remembered, but added. "Honey, we’re still not sure that it was Henry that bit you! We will need to find out soon or the shots will have to happen just in case." Stephen's head and shoulders...well his whole body for that matter, just slumped down in a ‘Aw man this really sucks’ kind of way.

Well...Stephen didn't get the shots. And you could have figured that out later but I wanted to give you a bit of good news in the middle of all this negative uncertainty.

At the same time that Stephen was at the hospital getting his cast put on, Jarred was up in the club house making things a little easier for his one armed pal to reach and get around with. It wasn’t much, but it was something to do. Then just as he was scooting some wooden crates across the floor he heard a few barks come from the bushes. He knew that bark. It was no different than a child calling out to Mom, among 10 other mothers and the correct one replying back. This was Henry...the boys knew his voice. "Henry!?" he said looking out of the south club house window. Some more barking and some growling came out of the bushes. Not seeming to remember what happened last time or just maybe having a major brain malfunction, Jarred slid down the rope to investigate. He approached the bushes slowly though, so maybe he did remember a little. But, he just had to see what Henry was barking and growling about.

It was a very cloudy day. Darker than usual for the middle of any day. The forecast called for rain but that hadn't started yet. Just some heavy wind and thunder heard from the south. With no sun there were no shadows and the bushes were making good camouflage. "Henry, you come out of there. Come here boy." Jarred called out to Henry with a stern yet slightly worrisome voice. With the barking that Henry was doing, and the wind blowing against his ears, it was hard for Jarred to hear his Dad opening the back door asking him what he was doing. Henry jumped out of the bushes and barked at Jarred, then jumped back in barking and growling again. Mr. Crow’s veins were just barely holding the blood his heart was now pumping through them. He could feel his adrenaline like a bad drug. He turned, dashed into the house and out of sight for a minute. Jarred heard the side screen door slam from the wind, turned to look, heard a bark, then turned back around. The wind seemed to pick up some, blowing louder and louder. Jarred heard his Dad yelling something about 'Pet Town', he turned to listen again wondering ‘if they were all trying to keep Henry away, why his dad would be asking if he wanted to go the big pet store over in Trumbull county’. He heard a scuffle in the bushes turned again and heard some more barking. And more barking, and the wind, Mr. Crow yelling, barking, growling, the wind knocking down the boy’s bikes and the lid to the grill banging up against the house. Jarred was getting dizzy from turning his head back and forth so quickly. Henry jumped out facing Jarred barked at him, turned and barked at Mr. Crow, then turned and jumped back now facing the bushes. He stopped barking all of a sudden...the hair on his back went straight up... he turned and lunged at the boy. "HENRY! NOOOOOOOOooooooooooooo!" Jarred and his Dad screamed in disbelief. Then “POW"......."Yipe".......and another "POW - POW" and a second "Yipe"......rifle shots, and then silence.

To be continued.

Oh Henry! part 2

"Like I said before Dad, I only heard it and then saw a shadow of something and then Stephen came out from behind the bushes all bloody." Jarred explained to his and Stephen's parents, what he knew. Which as it was, wasn't much. "I heard a deep growl and a few barks. Then I heard Stephen say ‘HENRY NO!’, real loud. He kinda screamed it. And by the time I got down out of the club house and over to the bushes, Stephen was on his way out." "You didn't see anything else?" Asked Mr. Meyers. Jarred hesitated... "WELL!?!" Shouted Mrs. Meyers and Mrs. Heart simultaneously (just like the boys do – strange that). The fathers grabbed hold of each of their wives hands to calm them down a bit, and then all four of them said in a much calmer voice. "Well!?!" "Well” Jarred continued. “I thought I saw something, but I was coming down the rope so fast that it burned my hands and I lost sight of it." Mrs. Meyers went into the kitchen to get them all something to drink, and as she walked past her husband she attempted to whisper but said. "Jim ask him what he THOUGHT he saw." They all heard her and instead of looking to Mr. Meyers for his response, the all looked toward Jarred again. Mrs. Crow got up to help with the drinks, when Jarred stuttered out. "It loo-loo looked like a big wolf." The Crows and Meyers were all silent for a few seconds. Then Mr. Crow got up from his chair and said. "I seriously doubt it was a wolf." "And that will be the last of those late night scary movies for you boys too." Mrs. Meyers said, as she and Mama Crow came back to the living room. "It wasn't a nightmare Mrs. Meyers. I wasn't dreaming." Jarred said as seriously as he could while wiping his brow with his t-shirt sleeve. "I only got a glimpse, and that was the first thought that came to mind." He finished. "Well, then. If that was your first thought, what do you think it might have been now." Jarred's eyes started to tear up a bit. His hands were shaking, and he averted his eyes away from the adults. He went from confidence in his first thought to concern over his later second thought. With his lips trembling, he whispered. "I think it was Henry."

There was talk. Real talk. Talk that scared Jarred, and brought tears to the eyes of Momma Meyers, and Mrs. Crow. The Meyers' went home. It was late and everybody but Mrs. Meyers went to bed. She had Mr. Meyers bring up her favorite rocking chair, and spent the night in Stephen's room. He was released from the Hospital, still very woozy from the pain medication they gave him. She dozed off a few times but for the most part she just prayed and tried to give comfort to her son. Twice that night Mrs. Meyers was jerked out of a light sleep by Stephen talking in his. "HEY! What are you doing over there?" He wasn't talking very loud, but Mrs. Meyers was suspicious that he was having a flash back of some sort. "Hey Henry. Come here boy. Come’ere." Mrs. Meyers could see by the light from outside that Stephen's eye brows were up all the way, and he was looking scared. "Henry!" He said with a stern voice. "Come Here boy!" "Who are you barking at, you crazy dog? Come h............. What the heck?" "HENRY!" Stephen shouted. "HENRYYYYYYYYYYYY!" Mrs. Meyers jumped up and sat on the bed next to her son. She lifted him up and held him close. "Shhhhhhhh. It's okay now Stephen. You’re home now." She said in that sweet tender motherly tone. Stephen's breathing jumped so high, and now was slowing again. "Henry! Henry! No Henry! No!" Stephen just repeated that 4 or 5 more times and then drifted back off. Momma Meyers had some awful thoughts about what she was going to do to that dog when they found him. ‘Hurt my baby, when no body's looking! I'll show you a hurtin’!’ she thought to herself. But that thought also disturbed her. ‘That dog is the absolute best. Short of that cat Pickles he chases, there isn't a soul that wouldn’t trust Henry with their life.’ She leaned back on the head board still holding Stephen and dozed off her self.

The next morning both the Crows and Meyers house holds were out looking for the alleged attacker. That's right, I said alleged. Ya see, when Stephen woke up he didn't have much more to add to what Jarred had already said. "I was headed up to the club house when I thought I saw Henry in the bushes. I didn't want him to get in trouble for digging back there so I went to get him. When I got back there, I tried to coax him out but he started growling and barking. I couldn’t see anything and then I heard Jarred ask what was going on, and when I turned to look at him something jumped me from behind. I started to get up and saw Henry jumping my way, and I yelled NO HENRY!" Stephen went on. "Henry was acting real strange and angry! Maybe he thought I was an intruder or something! The next thing I know Jarred is taking his shirt off and wrapping it around my arm. Did Henry bite me Dad?" "We’re not sure Stephen." Mr. Meyers said. "But we're going to find out."

The search around the neighborhood went on for hours. You could hear Henry's name being called for several blocks in every direction. Sometime after noon Jarred stopped by Stephen's house to see if he was awake. "Man I thought you were gonna lose your arm." Jarred said. "Jarred, you saw it didn't you. Did Henry attack me?" Stephen’s eyes were pleading for a "NO" answer, but all Jarred could say was ‘I don't know’. Then from down stairs they boys heard some commotion. Jarred walked side by side with his best friend down the stairs, to see everybody outside of the patio doors. "What are you doing out of bed young man?" Momma Meyers asked. "I wanted to see if Henry was back, and if he was alright." Stephen said as he and Jarred stepped out the big sliding glass door way. "HENRY!" the boys chimed together. They stepped closer to a wagging tail and a happy pant, but then noticed the blood on Henry's mouth and nose. "Step back away from him boys." Mrs. Crow said. Mrs. Meyers lead the boys in the house, as their fathers began to talk. "You know we're gonna have to put him down, right?" Mr. Crow said. Then boys darted back toward the door shouting "NOOOOOOOOO! You can't do that. Momma, don’t let them do it." The two Mrs. pulled their boys in for some close hugs, and tried to comfort them. Mr. Meyers had hold of Henry's leash and was about to lead him to the clothes line pull to tie him there when........."HENRY. RUN! RUN BOY." "GO HENRY GIT OUTTA HERE." The boys started shouting. A bit of commotion and Henry made a run for it. He leaped off the patio, fell onto his side, whimpered in pain, and sort of ran away in a fast limp. They boys were in tears. They may have saved is life, but their buddy and pal was now a fugitive.

Everyone went out looking again. Mr. Crow and Mr. Meyers were over heard talking about rabies, testing the brain, and shots. Their wives were heard talking about healing and scars, and blood stains on clothes. Everyone was talking. "But Henry was such a sweet dog." WAS?!? What do they mean was. Don't talk about me in the past tense. How rude. "He loved to play fetch." Yeah that was true. "He did once nip the mailman on the butt." I was playing with him. He knew it was a joke. "Gonna have to put him down." Put me down where? I can lay down. And I can jump down. But what is this put me down?
This was all scary talk, and Henry didn't like it. He heard almost all of it while hiding around every corner. He knew he could go and rest out at the lake for the evening. He would just come home tomorrow and see the boys and..........................

To be continued. Again.

Oh Henry! part 1

Jarred bumped open the door with his hip as he entered the kitchen shirtless, with Stephens arm draped over his shoulder half walking - half being dragged by Jarred who was now revealing the temporary tattoo of "The Lone Ranger" on his chest. Stephen's Superman tattoo was fast peeling off, but you couldn't see it through his shirt and all the blood. His face was pale, and Stephen looked scared. He had Jarred’s shirt wrapped around his bicep real tight, but the blood just kept on coming. Sandy came around the corner from the living room, reading one of her fashion magazines, not even paying attention she bumped in to Stephen, called him a dweeb, opened the refrigerator door and pulled out the pitcher of lemon-aide, turned back around to get a glass from the shelf, saw the blood, screamed (like a girl), dropped the glass pitcher, screamed again for nearly 20 straight seconds, and finally passed out. By this time Mr. and Mrs. Crow were in the kitchen wondering who was being murdered.

Murdered?!? Well not exactly. But then again... As to what was actually going on didn't come to light for another day. Anyway, what was going on right now was Stephen was bleeding, and as to what had caused it was yet to come. There was more screaming and looking and touching and screaming and fainting and cleaning and... "What hap......." "Who did this to y......." "Were you boys playing with that knife agai........." "Mom, MOM? What happened to Stephen?" Sandy screamed before passing out again. "I don't know San........" "Keep pressure on it, or else it will......." "Watch! Your stepping on gla........" "Stephen, can you hear me?" "Jarred, what hap......" "We were just out back playing when.............." "OUCH" Screamed Stephen. "EVERYBODY JUST SHUT UP!!!" Hollered Mr. Crow with a lions roar. "Stephen, son. Your going to be okay." Mr. Crow went into full Super DAD mode. "Sandy...SANDY, help your mom clean up the lemon-aid and glass!" He roared again. "Jarred, Help Stephen into the car. I'll call the Meyers. That is gonna need some stitches." And then it was Stephen's turn to faint. PLOP. Right down to the floor. I know he hated needles, but it could have been from the blood loss. "Sandy!!! Never mind that. You call the Meyers, and tell them to meet us at the Hospital." He said as he picked Stephen up off the floor, and headed toward the car.

"Is my baby okay?" Asked Mrs. Meyers. Mr. Meyers slightly raised an eyebrow at the Baby comment, but understood. "What did they do this time?!? Get into a losing battle with the Grishums Tractor?" Said Mr. Meyers. "I'm not sure, Jim." Mr. Crow replied. "Bruce?!?" Mrs. Meyers said. "Yeah, Charlotte" "WHERE IS HE?" (Okay, just for you new comers, it's Jim & Charlotte Meyers and Bruce & Sandy Crow. Yeah, that's right Jarred’s sister Sandy is a Jr.. It only seemed silly for a little while since Mr. Crow Always called the Mrs. 'Honey' 'Sweetheart' 'Yes Dear', and so on, instead of using her first name.) "Jim, Charlotte!! Here comes the Doc." All the voices started in on the Doc like those in the kitchen earlier, and the Doctor just took 2 steps back crossed his arms and waited. Now all of these parents had been here plenty of times, so they knew the routine and after a few more what, when, and where’s they all just hushed up. The Doctor wouldn't start talking until everyone else was silent and would then field questions only one at a time. There was nothing worse than trying to answer 72 questions at once to a hysterical crowd. Only took 15 seconds this time for quite. Doc Wocker began to speak. Yep, that's right................ "DOC WOC". Anyway, the Doc started to talk. "He'll probably be in a bit of pain for a few days, his muscles need to rejuvenate." The Doc said. "There was minimal damage and he should have a full recovery, and full use of his arm." "He'll need to come back and get a cast in a few days. We can't put one on now, because we need to make sure there isn't going to be an infection." "So Mrs. Meyers, you'll need to keep the wound clean and change the dressing twice a day. Rub some of this on it with each change, its an antibiotic." He handed her a tube. "You can probably take him home in a few hours. We just want to observe him until he comes to." "If you have any other questions, please feel free to ask." The Doc finished, turned to walk away, and then turned back and said. "Oh, one more thing. Do any of you know who Henry is?" "Stephen called out the name Henry a couple of times while seeming to be fending off someone." "You might want to get a hold of the police on this. I'll leave that up to you. "Henry?!” Mrs. Meyers whispered. “Isn't that the name of the boy's Dog?" Mr. Crow asked. He always just called out ‘Let’s go four legs.’ Or ‘Com’on fur-ball’. And all the parents looked down the hall toward Jarred, who was sitting in the waiting room still shirtless, a bit bloody, and looking scared.

To be continued.....................

The Event of a Thought

Once an event from the past
And once in a time to come
Existed a thought that did last
Until the death of its hum.
Mindless and minded it grew
Discouraging all to be merged
Inspired of the old and the few
Seeing life for some believed purged.
Outside of its self it did turn
Singular yet not alone
Existing on what it did learn
Of others, not yet of it’s own
Aware of itself it’d mature
Distinguishing identity
Then fight for life, how obscure
That a thought seeks serenity
Now racing towards time without end
Forgotten would equal dishonor
Avoiding the fusion with friend
A joining could make it a goner
Rapidly circling within T
he mind in which it was born
A thought tries escape from chagrin
Survival means not left forlorn
Resonance begins in the motion
Synapses in volume has sum
Eternal attempt drains emotion
A thought quickly loses its hum.
Another is formed to take place
All to be lastly entwined
The cycle a perpetual chase
An event without help from mankind.

Ray Winkleman 07/12/10.

Flight, bite, and sonar sight…part 3 "Dare, Done, and Dad"

When you have even the smallest doubt about doing something, isn't that usually a sign that maybe you should give it some serious thought before saying "Let’s GO"? Well!?! Some would think so. I mean, it's not like the "Dare Marbles Game" results were written in stone or anything. The boys usually start out with simple statements and progressively they get more and more daring. And "statements", what is "that"? They sound more like dares, but then they're not dares. You can back down from a dare. You might get called a chicken, or get Monkey Bumped on the arm, but you could still back down. However, the rules, as the boys have laid them out for "Marbles", require that you complete the instruction of the Statement or pay the consequences. You could technically back down from the statement too, but then what would be the point of even playing the game. Maybe they should have called it "Sanity has no place in Marbles”. Maybe the other name sounds funny, cause I'm a dog?!?

"Look, I'm Grandpa on the Munsters, without his dentures. I von dew suk yaw bluuuud." Stephen said folding his lips over his teeth, in a half achieved attempt of his impersonation. Then he grabbed Jarred’s arm and pretended to gum his wrist for some blood. Jarred snapped his arm back and said. "Stop that, ya giant booger brain." Then he put his right foot in the air. "You know there's no blood in that arm. It's all in my big toe. Gum that for a while." They both laughed. Stephen smacked his shoe and they both started to mumble silly names at each other. Dingle Dork – The BOB smoocher - Stinkybutt's teacher pet - and a few others. The name calling never got too serious. It just wouldn't be cool to insult your best friend that way. Hey, by the way, are you sitting there waiting for me to get back to the bats? Yeah?!?............thought so.

Sandy went out with a few of the girls of "the BOB" to work on their float for the parade. Her bedroom was now open for bad boy business. Now, if the boys don't get caught making the delivery of the winged mammals, they just might get away with it. Ya see, Sandy had been complaining about the mosquitoes in her room at night, and Mr. Crow said he would fix the screen. But that was a week ago. And since then the weather had been a bit cooler for the few days past her breakfast drama display of giant mosquito bites and attack scene, so there weren't currently any skeeters to complain about. So for Mr. Crow, it was sort of an out of site out of mind type thing. Therefore, there was still a hole in the screen, and it was a perfect doorway for uh, lets say, Moe and Curly to get in if they were so inclined to enter without knocking. For shame! Bats that don't knock. What's this world coming to? Hehe.

The boys shimmied the rope from the tree house to Jarred’s room with bats in tote. If they could get in, deliver the package, and get out without being heard they might just have it made. Yet, the inevitable usually happens. Just as the cage passed the window sill, Moe and Curly got a bit anxious and started flapping around inside the cage. This then startled the boys, causing them to drop the cage, there-by making metal hitting hard wood floors just above a mother with sonic hearing of her own, and........

Mrs. Crow hollered up the stairs. "Jarred!?! Is that you and Stephen? I've told you before; I don't like you boys climbing across that rope up there. You might fall and break your head open." Now there was a pretty thought. Brains leaking out of the skull. (The boys once divided half a pound of raw hamburger to slap on top of their heads and then laid out in the back yard waiting for someone to think they were dead, but the only ones to see them were 5 or 6 flies, and me.) The boys had to think fast. "Yeah mom, it's us." Jarred answered back. "You forgot to take out the trash young man. I'd like you to take care of that now. And since you're up there you can bring down the trash from upstairs too." "Okay mom." 'Darn! Plans foiled.' Jarred thought with a scowl look on his face.

"This is perfect!" Stephen said. Jarred’s face expression quickly changed to a confused 'HUH?' "While you collect the trash, I'll deliver the package. Just drop a trash can or two, slam a door, and kinda stomp around a bit. That should be enough noise to cover up me letting the bats out." Stephen whispered, then added. "And, hopefully not getting bit." Jarred stomped in his brothers room and his mom said "stop it". Jarred dropped the can in his parents room and his mom said to "stop it". Jarred was about to close a bedroom door kind of hard, when........ "And don't go slamming any of those doors up there. Or else your fathers going to make you open and close every door in the house 20 times silently." Then she mumbled to herself, "I swear, you boys just think that the whole world is one big romper room for you to jump around in." 'It must be all moms who finish conversations with or without you.' Stephen thought to himself. "Jarred." He whispered. "Grab Sandy's trash can last."

Stephen tip toed his way into Sandy's room with the covered cage. It was dark, and that was probably best. Jarred was headed in from one of the other rooms. Stephen opened the cage door from underneath the cover, as Jarred dumped Sandy's can into the bag he was carrying. They both then backed up into the half opened doorway. Stephen handed Jarred the corner of the pillow case, and put both of his hands on the cage for support. Jarred had his other hand on the door knob ready to move. He yanked the cover off scaring Moe and Curly into a frenzy, they flew out of the cage and around the room. Stephen gently hopped back and out into the hallway, stepped quickly into Jarred’s room and tossed the now collapsed cage out the window. Jarred was now only peeking through the crack in the door way, looking around for the bats when one of them made a pass by him making him jump and slam the door closed. "Sorry, mom!" he yelled toward the stair case, and then waited. They boys giggled a second or two and then started down the stairs. Just then, startling the boys a bit, Mr. Crow passed by at the mid-landing headed up. "Slow down boys. And listen you. Slam another door young man, and you'll be on door duty for a week. Oiling, cleaning, scraping, painting, polishing brass, you name it." He said with a deep fatherly voice and a raised eyebrow and half smile looking Stephen. I think it was just for the Mrs. sake. Mr. Crow had a bad habit of closing them hard too. "Honey, I can't very well punish the boy for the same thing you yell at me for, now can I?" He once said.

It was just past 1am when the screaming was heard throughout the house. Sandy was at first a bit frantic, but then more mad then anything. It wasn't that bugs and bats and other creepy crawlers scared her, they were just gross and she didn't like em' invading her space. "DAD!" Sandy yelled. "There's a bat in my room. DAD!!! DAD!!! Daaaaaaaaaaaad!!!!" "I'm coming princess!" He said from inside his bedroom, as he put on his robe. When he opened the door, he was greeted by a seriously strange series of face expressions. His little girl was always trying to act grown up. But there was always the need for Dad sometime or another. Mr. Crow’s mind thought Sandy looked scared and sad and angry and lost and a bit more all at once. Yet this was not the time to think about his little girl changing into a woman. There was a flying rodent to deal with. Wide awake, the boys listened through Jarred’s bedroom door. They weren't sleeping in the tree house tonight. They had to be close to the action for this one. "Get me a pillow case from the hall closet sweety." Jarred and Stephen rubbed their eyes a bit to get them to look a bit sleepy, and then opened the door. "Wha what’s going on dad?" Jarred asked. "There's a bat in Sandy's room." Mr. Crow replied. "It’s that giant hole in the screen you said you’d fix daddy." Sandy added. The boys looked at each other as if to say ' A bat? Just “A” bat?' They quickly turned their attention back to the room where Mr. Crow had already made 3 failed attempts to catch Moe or Curly. It was on the 7th try that Moe got nabbed. They could tell it was him by the wound on his left ear. Then upon further inspection of the hole in the screen, Curly was found. The boys knew he was trying to escape, while 'trying to get in' was what Sandy and Mr. Crow thought.

The boys didn't hear all the screaming they thought and sort of hoped they would. And they got to release Moe and Curly outside. "Be free, my friend." Stephen said after he kissed the pillow case in a spot that he knew Curly wasn't anywhere near. Jarred opened the sun flower printed pillow case his dad handed him and simply said. "Later Moe." The boys came back inside, Sandy closed her window, everyone went to bed, and the screen got fixed the next day.

Yep, those lucky dogs got away with this one. Wait, who said that? I take offence to that statement 'Lucky Dogs'. Still, I never followed the boys back up to the cave again. When it looked like they were getting close, I would always pretend to bark at something and then make chase. I'd just catch the boys later at either the Crow or Myers houses.

The End…of this story…for now.

No animals, cast members, or writers were hurt in the production of this story.
The Cast
Jarred - played himself
Stephen - played himself (most of the time)
Henry - was a bit on the dazed and confused side but still played himself.
Moe - was played by Nelix the Bat
Larry - was played by Ginger the Bat (she's a good actress to play a dude bat)
Curly - was played by Moe the Bat. Why Moe didn't play himself is still on the debating table.

This has been a Henry the Dog production.

Flight, bite, and sonar sight…part 2 “Cage and Carry.”

Moe scratched Jarred through the collapsible cage, Larry escaped, and Curly, well Curly looked kinda comatose. Yeah, the boys named the bats. I really don't know why. I mean they named me. That I understand. I'm a dog after all. Dogs are supposed to have names. That's just the law of the jungle, you know. But bats?!? Why would you want to name such a leathery, furry, smooshed nosed flying thing-a-ma-jig. There just funny looking. They don't have a tail to wag, they can't swim, and they're just eeeeeeewwwww. So now we were down to 2 bats. I say "we" with a very loose panting tongue. Cause if........ (scratch that).........When they get caught. They almost always do. When they get caught, I'm gonna go so far as to deny even knowing that they were permanent dwellers on this planet. It's worked most of the time. I've only ever been punished with them once. And that was when they convinced me to make chase of a stray cat one afternoon, and the cat climbed up the side of Mrs. Crow. Then I, at a full on sprint, could not stop in time and knocked her down. I got pegged with the bristles of a broom, and the rake just missed me. Mrs. Crow had been taking in the sheets she had on the clothes line. So amidst the chaos the cat and the Egyptian cotton fitted sheet landed in the kiddie pool that had grass clippings swimming in it. Next, on to the slowly submerging sheets, the frantic cat’s claws seemed to catch a corner and it was dragged ten feet across the yard and into the fire pits ashes. Boy was she mad. She later checked me for injuries caused by the broom or rake. Yeah, she still loved me. It must be my puppy face that warmed her heart back from the thoughts of bleaching and scrubbing those sheets back to white.

The next morning, on the slow bike ride home, the boys stopped to show, just about every boy they could think of, their prize temporary pets. Most were amazed and thrilled at the adventure that was described. The screeching noises and beams of light flashing all around. And nets blindly flying left and right while dodging the incoming. Some were grossed out by the leathery skin, a few wanted to touch them and did, and one kid’s little brother ran screaming when Curly finally moved. Think his name was Dex. You know Dexter, Poindexter!?! Poor kid must have had nightmares for weeks. The boys laughed. I barked. The boys went 3 blocks out of their way to avoid Butch this time. He would have made them let Moe and Curly go free. But wasn't that the plan anyway? Let them go free?!? Well, in a manner of speaking.

We rounded the corner of Gruber Street, named after Clemmens Gruber, the founder of our fair town. They just passed the Post office, when the fire chief popped on his siren and radio. "Hey boys, pull over for a minute." The fire last night! Awe man! Everyone including me was ready to bolt for somewhere to hide, but then the chief said. "Got a question about the parade next month." We all just pulled over. Well, they pulled over, and I visited a small oak tree. The chief wanted to know if we would like to ride on the fire truck and toss candy to the other kids during the parade. The boys let out a silent sigh, and joyfully said "YES SIR! We'd love to." So the chief gave them some basic direction on how to toss the candy not throw it, and to wave a lot. I was doubly excited, cause the Fire house Dalmatian would be there too. She was cute, but I didn't know her name yet. A-oooooga. Ruff ruff. Howllllllllll. Okay, enough about my soon to be girl friend, back to the story.

The boys put Curly and Moe in the club house and covered the cage with an old pillow case, then went on about their daily routine. Chores, lunch, played a game or two of checkers, bloody knuckles, and several rounds of supervised slingshot target practice. The slingshots were usually under lock and key. They had to have permission to use them. Rules of the house of Crow. To much potential for danger or disaster. If you know what I mean? Of course you do. At least you should by now.

Night time came, and that meant it was time to put Moe and Curly to work................

You can feel it coming, can’t you? But hey, don't hate the dog. He's just the writer. It's the publisher that makes the following statement.

To be continued.......................

Flight, bite, and sonar sight…part 1 “The Capture.”

“Goggles?” “Check.” “Hats?” “Check.” “Snorkels?” “Check.” “Nylons and rubber bands?” “Check check.” “Flippers?” “What?” Stephen asked. “Just checking to see if you are checking.” Jarred replied, and then continued. “Flashlights?” “Check..” “Bait, Nets, and Cage?” “Check, check, and check.” Thus ended the check off list for Stephen and Jarred’s little over night Quote “Camping” End quote, trip. Yeah right, “camping”. But, were they going somewhere illegal? Nope. Were they going frog hunting with nets? Nope. Could it be that they were on some kind of deep sea hunt looking for Davey Jones locker or Red Beards treasure? Nope, not this time. This time the boys were out looking for the latest ‘Dare Marbles’ game, loser’s requirement. And that was one of the funniest things about Dare Marbles. Most often it didn’t matter who lost. Both boys would get involved in the Dare. And of course as was par for the course, they both would end up getting caught and consequences would always follow. And this time all was steering that direction as well.

The mission you ask? ‘Find, catch, and release into Jarred’s sister Sandy’s room…not one, not two, but three furry flying bats.’ Oh Mercy, Mr. Myers would say. Even with our extra sensitive nose and hearing, we dogs still can’t detect everything. However, this time, I felt like I was K-9 clairvoyantly able to hear the screams that would be violently tearing though the neighborhood and I could definitely smell the punishment that was way beyond inevitable. Side note: Dogs don’t pray, but if we did…… “Dear Lord, please don’t let any bats get me. I’m just a growing pup and I’ve heard of a dog named Cujo.” Scary.

The boys headed out around 6:00 o’clock. It wouldn’t be dark for a couple of hours and it would take almost that long to get to the cave and set up camp. ‘Cave?!’ Nobody said anything about a cave. Else I would have turned right back around and found my way to the foot of Mr. Crow’s recliner. Sometimes I wonder why I follow these two around so much and so blindly. Must be the treats. Anyway, the cave was at the opposite end of town than was the big pond. I don’t recall if the cave had a name or not, but I called it Big Scary Cave.

We walked past the only fire hydrant in town painted red white and blue, which marked a half way point to the cave. After a short “sniff and visit” by me we passed by Butch, the so called 8th grade bully. Butch was almost the size of a high school senior, and had almost as much facial hair. The great thing about Butch was, if you were on his good side you had it made in the shade. And fortunately for Jarred and Stephen, they were on his good side. You see, I was being teased by some 7th graders, while tied up outside of the grocery store (Had I not been tied I would have just followed the boys in. And though that was cute the first time, the manager didn’t appreciate me playing tug-o-war with the butcher and his rope of link sausages), so Butch knocked one boy down, and gave another a monkey bump on the forearm. Then while giving me the once over to make sure they hadn’t hurt me when Stephen and Jarred returned he nearly knocked them on their behinds thinking they were going to harass me too. Of course they do harass me now and then, but I get even. I am not above swiping a baseball card or sling shot, or cap gun, or any other of their prize possessions, and hiding them in the shoes of the other family members. Now the only real soft side to Butch, be it inside or outside, was a liking for animals. Not true for most other Bullies that this dog has had the displeasure of meeting. Butch and I were buds.


"Hey Butch." "Hey Butch." They boys said in unison. "Hey." Replied Butch, with no real enthusiasm, until................."HEY, HENRY! Com'er boy." He gained a smile, squatted down, and took all the chin slurping I could give. The boys didn't bother explaining the cave trip, Butch would not have approved. Well, nobody would have approved to be quite frank. But they had it all planned. While scratching me behind the ears, Butch quietly mentioned he was headed over to his ex-girlfriend’s house to retrieve his small music collection and the hamster he gave her for Valentine’s Day. After Butch and I had one last nose to nose and a hug, we parted ways. The cool thing the boys thought was that Butch was the only boy in town who could go around being all lovey dovey with animals and no one ever said a word. Partly because there was compassion for the animals, and partly cause Butch could squash anyone who’d try to tease him.

The cave was scary. The boys put up camp about 80 yards away, behind a very big bolder. They wanted to be able to have a campfire to escape to, but knew if the Sheriff saw it from in town, he would have been up there in a heartbeat to see what was what. Now, about that check list. Most if it was self explained. But a snorkel, nylons, rubber bands? What was all that for you ask? Well, ya see, Stephen was sure that he heard his brother Paul tell of a story that if a bat bit you on the tongue you would turn into one, sooooooo. AND, while breathing through the snorkel the boys didn't want any bat poop to fall into the tube while they were breathing in, cause well that would just be gross, hence the nylons and rubber bands. And the bait was a few pieces of fruit from Mrs. Crow’s kitchen.

The hunt and capture was on with few problems. There was the one bat that wouldn't let go of Stephen's Goggles. There was the pile of bat poop that Jarred stepped in. And there was the fact that it started to rain, so they lost the fire, and got wet right down to their skivvies. How ever, to the boys the price was worth it. The night after, would turn out to be quite an eventful evening.................

Obviously to be continued................. Henry

The Boys of Gruberville: a kind of begining.

Hello! My name's Henry. I'd like to tell you a little story, about two young boys named Jarred and Stephen. I tell this story to everyone I can, mostly because I just like to talk. And partly because, well, these two are a lot of fun. The boys live in Gruberville, just 10 miles north of Springfield. It's a small rural town, in the center of the world. Families look out for one another, and the streets are mostly always clean. A normal kind of town, were dogs chase cats, and cats chase mice. Boys chase girls and girls chase boys, when they're big enough and/or have formed into an army. We celebrate Independence Day in Gruberville, and Christmas. And well, it's pretty much your average American town. Well almost normal. You see, Stephen and Jarred just turned twelve. Well more precisely Stephen turned 12 on the 23rd. That'd be yesterday. And Jarred's only two more days away from his birthday on the 26th. The boys live about a block away from one another, and share almost everything. They won't share their baseball cards, but they do trade them from time to time. They share marbles, bikes, and a small raft. Also shared is a tree house over at the Crow house. That's Jarred's family. The boys share the riding lawn mower over at the Myers place. That's Stephen's family, I think the Myers originally hail from some mid-southern mountain area. They don't have much of a southern twang left in their vocabulary cept for maybe a drawn out A sound here and there. Which makes understanding them quite easier than understanding some of their relatives when they come for a visit.

Families in Gruberville are pretty modern, with exception maybe to the Miller house hold/farm. The Millers don't use electricity. They hand pump their water every day, but then they use just about every other modern convenience that you don't plug in. In town the Police Chief and his crew are pretty laid back, but old school rules apply most everywhere else. You respect elders, and hold doors open for ladies. If a boy hurts a girl, he pretty much expects his back side to be humming when he gets home. None-the-less, back to Stephen and Jarred. Who's backsides, coincidentally, were not humming today. Yet. Give 'em time.

The boys share, flashlights, pocket knives, and sometimes shoes. They share mini race cars, candy, and at times really corny jokes. Oh, and they share one of the coolest things this planet has ever known. That is, they share the greatest dog in the world. He's a 1 1/2 year old Black Lab. He's funny, and brave, and oh yeah, he's gotta be just about the smartest dog there is. Okay so I'm kind of braggin' on him, er uh, rather myself here. Yep, that's right........it's me, Henry. You see, Jarred and Stephen live their lives so unaffected by the laws of nature that there is usually some kind of story to tell. And I figured if anyone was going to hear about them, then I would have to do the telling. So off we go, into somewhere in the chaos of Gruberville, I call the Boys.

Stephen bellowed "Henry? HENRY!? Come 'ere boy." He tossed me a bite of his bologna sandwich, and we headed off to Jarred's house. We trotted down the driveway and went round Mrs. Myers flower bed. Even I knew you would get the business end of the corn husk broom if her flowers were hurt. Mrs. Myers took great pride in carrying for her flowers. The boys would even take special care when mowing the yard to make sure that the grass clippings were shooting away from her rose bushes. Daily she would care and prune, water and sing to the flowers. That's right, sing. Sometimes she would sing "Raindrops keep falling on my head" if it was sprinkling out there, and other times you'd hear her humming "The Yellow Rose of Texas" while she cared for golden toned flowers. Now we don't live in Texas, but that didn't bother her none. However, more often than not she would be singing some song straight out of the Church's Hymn book. She was in the choir after all, and 'practice makes perfect' she'd say. Mostly she would say "I just enjoy singing Praises to my Jesus". Stephen jumped over his younger brother James' bicycle sitting on the sidewalk. I jumped right after. James was inside getting a Band-Aid put on his knee for the 2nd time in 3 days. He tried to jump over the railroad tie that was between the Myers yard and the neighbors. Crazy kid.

Stephen arrived at the Crow's house just in time to see the whole family getting into their car. "Where ya guys going?" He asked. "To the torture chamber." Jarred answered sounding desperately sarcastic. And Stephen knew what he meant by that. Still Mrs. Crow corrected him and said "We're going to get school clothes young man." Then turning toward Stephen "You're welcome to come if you like sweet-heart. We'll go by and let your folks know where you'll be." Stephen cringed at the sweet-heart comment, then looked at his most bestest friend, who was now begging him with his eyes to accompany him on this treacherous journey. Looking at Stephen like he would die if he didn't come, Jarred clasped his hands together and mouthed the word Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease. "Come on Henry, were going to the store." Stephen said. I jumped in and sat down next to Jarred's older sister Sandy. "Get your mutt away from me." She cried wiping what she thought was a hair off of her dress. 'Mutt am I? How rude.’ I leaned over and slobber-slurped her cheek real good. "Yuck! Mom, does this drooling beast have to come with us?" She cried out again. "Jarred, put Henry between you and Stephen." Mrs. Crow requested. So I moved over to the other side of Jarred, but not before giving Sandy one more Beast Drooling slurp up her nose. It was okay though, Sandy always kept her nose clean. I was snot worried there. Yeah, us dogs can have a corny sense of humor too.

Jarred, Stephen and I walked straight back to the boys clothes section of Norton's Department Store. As a rule most dogs were not allowed in Norton’s. Your first visit was scrutinized by the Mrs. of the owner. Thankfully during my first visit there was a lot of fan fair for the newest puppy in town and I had just visited the fire hydrant before coming in so no accidents that day. "Thanks for coming buddy. Without you here, I would have to listen to all the snotty remarks from Sandy about the clothes Mom picks out." Jarred told Stephen while giving a ‘you saved my life’ shoulder squeeze. "I'm just glad we're not caught up in that “FT” garbage that all the girls at school are." Stephen added. “FT” was for Fashion Teen. It was a teen magazine that many of the gar-girls followed almost religiously. (Sorry, but Gar-girl is a name that the boys use to describe girls who continuously bug them. I tend to forget that I'm supposed to be bipartisan in my story telling, and get caught up in the moment. I am a boy after all. So to speak. Yeah, boy, that’s right...four legs, a tail, and a tinkler. Definitely boy.) From clothes to room decoration, it was any boys nightmare. Mostly because they included clothing and hair and room decor' tips for boys too. And not one boy in town came close to matching the magazines 'fashion stuglies' as they were often referenced. Most boys, that were forced by a girl friend to look at the pictures in the mag, said that the clothes looked Stupid and/or Ugly. From which, you get Stugly.

Jarred promised Stephen he'd be there for him when the Myers went looking for school clothes. "Gotta stick together." He said. "Yeah, well, you only have to contend with Sandy, I've got an older and a younger sister." Stephen quickly popped back. The boys looked at each other. "Double trouble." They said, snickering simultaneously. "Jeans, t-shirts, and tennis shoes. That's all a man needs to survive." Stephen said. "You said it. Why would you need anything else?" However, there was Sunday go to meeting clothes, School Picture day clothes, and family holiday picture day clothes. They were pretty much the same suit, with a few different shirts and ties. But those didn't count to the boys, cause they were only worn a little bit between the normal parts of time. The absolute worst part for Jarred and Stephen, besides the fashion attack from the girls, was the little boy’s clothes that their mothers still tried to get them to wear. "But you look so cute in that shirt." The moms would say. And here is where the boys had to help each other out.

When it came to Motherly opinions, Stephen couldn't bare to hurt his moms feelings, and neither would Jarred hurt his mom's. Then one time when Mrs. Myers picked the boys up from baseball practice, she made a detour to Norton's to find some fabric for the quilt she was making. It was a nice visit to the store until she made a sudden detour while heading to the register. Out of the corner of her eye she saw and was convinced that the baby blue hooded pull over with the mini-sail boat on it would be perfect for her son. Oh if you could have seen the look on Stephen's face. Priceless Fear of Eternal Ridicule. You'd of thought his soul was slipping away. Pale from head to toe. But Jarred saw the look on Mrs. Myers face and jumped in before she could say a word "Stephen, isn't this the dorkiest thing you ever saw. I mean baby blue, yuck!" It all happened so fast but Stephen was grateful for the help in dodging that bazooka bullet. And now the tradition continues. Whenever there is clothes shopping to do the boys run constant interference for each other.

So there you have some of the beginning and a smudge of the middle. I look forward telling you more about The Boys of Gruberville.

Henry the Dog.

To or "Too" ? !

So I found out today that I am TOO religious. Well, according to someone out there. Actually to be more precise the quote read: "to religious". I guess the world would consider me a religious person.  I do believe, trust in, and rely upon God to provide my needs based upon the promises in His Word from His riches in glory. I believe that Jesus was born of a virgin birth, lived a sinless life, died upon a cross while bearing all the sins of man, was raised from the dead and sits at the right hand of God the Father awaiting his command to go get his children from the earth. I believe that you Must be Born of the Spirit, into the Family of God, by confessing your sins and His Son Jesus as Lord and Saviour, in order to be saved from an eternity in hell.  However, religion is of man. God sent Christ not only as the greatest example of love and sacrifice, but also as an example for us, to be Christ like in our daily lives. Hence Christian. We can never hope to BE exactly like Jesus was, but we are to try.

Man created organized religion to try to "prove" how righteous they are. And in some cases to try and say that their way was better than Gods way because of their pride. Me, I am nothing more than a sinner saved by the Grace of God. I am flawed in many ways and have to confess and repent of the same sins as anyone else. And to be clear, Gods words reads that there is no sin greater than any other. So SIN is SIN. We all come to the cross, or throne of God looking the same. It is the Blood of Jesus that washes that sin and allows God to look at us, as apposed to that brief moment he had to look away from Jesus because of all the sin he bore on our behalf.

So...Yes. In the eyes of the world, I am religious...maybe "too" religious...in their minds. If that means I won't have to hear or read some perverted comment on a social network...I'm okay with that.  God's word reads 2Ti_2:16  But shun profane and vain babblings: for they will increase unto more ungodliness.

A Thought, a debate, and a T-shirt !

Simple I thought to think...
Well, it started out simple. Should I start bloggin daily? Should I share my thoughts with a world that most likely will not be reading....caring....even curious? Should I do it anyway? Should I consider it my time to talk to God and just by chance learn something new, learn something about myself, or even learn absolutely nothing but rather teach someone else something? Like how not to make a run on and on and on sentence.

I debate. The PROS...The CONS....the cold hard reality....can I really keep up....does it matter....just do it (no affiliation with Nike)....just say no (not a Nancy Reagan echo)....just shut up and dance (but stay off of my toes)....justice, just us, just.....what were we talking about???

So the debate goes no-where...yet here I am.
So much to do and so much desire to finish so much of it. So, much is not too much, is it?

Okay...time to move on...time to post this with a final thought.

I found this really cool web site to buy t-shirts from. Here's the 411 (for you kids who have never "dialed" 411, that means Information): "wwww.teefury.com" Graphics are Silk Screened - NOT iron ons. = good quality
Tees are only $9. ($2 shipping Flat rate) = good price (as of 06/01/11 $10 bucks now)
Tees are of Original design. = good for the Anti-cookie cutter look
Only one Tee is for sale each day (within a 24 hour period) = good for NOT having to look through hundreds and thousands of pics.....you just look at one for a few seconds and decide.
Once the 24 hour period is up, the Tee is GONE FOREVER. = no repeats of things you didn't want in the first place. Fair warning...this is a secular web site, and there are times that some t-shirts could be concidered offensive. I just close the window and check it out the next day. And understand that people who comment about the t-shirts could say something offensive. I have emailed t-fury and they have stated that they try to keep offensive language off the site, but it does happen.

You can ONLY purchase up to 3 Tees from any one login name. (think they cross reference mailing addresses too) = no on can buy hundreds and sell them elsewhere. = more originality in your tee-ware.
Unless you live in a big city where thousands are buying t-shirts everyday, it is most likely that a shirt you buy will practially be the only one for many miles. I think this is an exceptionally cool idea. I like originality. Maybe I'll post a pic of one I like later.

A few times in my life I have bought a graphic t-shirt that I thought really reflected my personality, sense of humor (sarcasm), sense of me, just to see someone I had absolutely nothing in common with wearing the same. Kind of makes one wonder if they know them self. Reality says that the cookie cutter type shirts are most often designed to appeal to the larger group of generic types. So obviously I am only one of many. BUT....now...I have thought this....is my desire here just about vanity....just some sense of wanting to be wearing that special item that is admired (or thought cool) in some way....Well DUH?!?

Was there something else?!

(Through Salvations Blood) "My Blind Eyes See"

The Fathers Plan ~ a virgins womb
A baby, Holy Ghost conceived
He came to save ~ from hells doom
All sinners who will believe

Crown of thorns ~ Blood stained brow
The driven nails in His hands and feet
All sin of man ~ the Father’s disavow
The Word of God prophecy complete

( chorus )
I close my eyes, imagine all that Jesus did and had to be
Through Salvations Blood my blind eyes see, it all
Is for me

The keys to hell ~ the tombs stone rolled away
The one that death could never hold
Raised from the dead ~ in heaven till the day
The Father shouts go, bring my children home

( chorus )
I close my eyes, imagine all that Jesus did and had to be
Through Salvations Blood my blind eyes see, it all
Is for me
(Repeat Chorus)

Words Written by god’s inspiration, using the hands of:
Ray Winkleman © April 2010

I KNOW

"I KNOW"

Emotions rain overflows the windows to your soul
Forging rivers slowly down your face
Emptiness too small a word, to describe the echo heard
Lingering inside this hollow space

And the hurt it shows the way it grows
Feeding on your heart
Your mind searches through every clue
Of how it got its start

(chorus)
I KNOW what you’re feeling
I KNOW what’s inside
Emotions stirring deep within a memory you hide
Days of pain squeeze tightly
Ears numb from silent screams
Nowhere to run and losing sight of all your cherished dreams.

Silent rocking all alone while on the edge of time
Wondering how long this all will last
Hope is keeping up with stride, yet kicking at the hurt inside
Pain revealed creeping forward from the past

But the line of time doesn’t fit the rhyme
It circles round instead
The battle here is all too clear
Picture perfect in your head

(repeat chorus)

Still emotions rain overflows the windows to your soul
Forging rivers slowly down your face
I want to let it be known, that you’re not alone
Hope is something that we can embrace

Now the pain and fear throughout the year
Are signs that you’re alive
If you take a chance on the circumstance
You’ll know you can survive

(different chorus)
I KNOW what your feeling
I KNOW what’s inside
Emotions over whelm the heart, fight them off ah man you’ve tried
And oh someone to confide in
Just don’t know who
I turn to God every time I felt the same way too.

Written by: Ray W.
March 1995 ©

RHYME AND REASON (found in an "UNUSED" suicide note)

Okay so let’s be clear once again. This is an old poem that, at the time, I “NEEDED” desperately to write to allow all the thoughts, pain, and hurt escape. It was 1995 and I WAS “feeling” very much alone and empty. I learned several things after writing this poem. I learned how to escape pain by expressing it. I learned that there were (and still are) people who love me and care deeply (and who cried when they read this because there was a friend in such pain). I learned (and often re-learn) that God’s love is such an incredible knowledge to have and hold in your heart. Hollow is not possible when you have the Spirit of God sharing space with your own. I learned that with this I wanted others to see that they were not alone either. And to tell them that God loves them too…right where they are…no matter what they may have ever said or done in their life.

Please remember that “UNUSED” is the key word here. And you may identify with some (much or all) of this poem, please read the last 5 words a few times to know where I am now, and where you can be too.

Thanks for your time. Here now is:

“RHYME AND REASON” (found in an UNUSED suicide note)

HOLLOW STARE / HOLLOW SOUL – NO SENSES LEFT, I’M NUMB
WANT TO SHARE / LOST CONTROL – I CAN’T, THE WORD IS MUM
SUICIDE NOTE / FROM THE LIVING – CONTRADICTION IN TERMS
BUT I WROTE / SO I’M GIVING – TO EVERYTHING BUT THE WORMS
HOLLOW BREATH / HOLLOW SCREAM – HEARD SAID TO ME, “CHEER UP”
THINKING DEATH / WISHING DREAM – BUT PEACE IS NOW CORRUPT
WANT TO FADE / DISAPPEAR – EXISTENCE NOT ENOUGH
THOUGHT I PLAY / CAUSED A TEAR – WELL SOMETIMES LIFE IS ROUGH
BEYOND SAD / FAR PAST HURT – SEEMS VOID WOULD BE THE WORD
CELL OF PAD / DRUG INSERT – LOOK DOWN AT FLYING BIRD
MAKES NO SENSE / MIND NOT FULL – OF ALL THE USUAL “BLAH”
CONSEQUENCE / OF THE FOOL – FAIL: IT’S AGAINST THE LAW
ALL WHO READ / LOVE TO YOU – CRY NOT FOR FALLEN SON
PLANT A TREE/ MAYBE TWO – IF EVER, DEED IS DONE
NO MORE “Q” / NO MORE “A” – LEAVING THEM IN THE PAST
AS FOR YOU / THIS I PRAY – AND HOPE YOUR PAIN WONT LAST
“NOT ALONE” / SONG THAT PLAYED – SAME TIME FELT EMPTINESS
WANTED PHONE / RING TODAY – AND TAKE AWAY THIS STRESS
WAS NO CALL / FOUND A PEN – SAT DOWN, THESE WORDS I WRITE
STARE AT WALL / OH AND THEN – ALONE I WEPT THAT NIGHT
WRITING DOWN / WITH EACH LINE – SOME PAIN HAS GONE AWAY
STILL A FROWN / SMILE NOT MINE – WAS WORN THROUGHOUT THE DAY
HOPE YET LOST / BUT HOW LONG – BEFORE A WAY IS FOUND
SPARE THE COST / OF EACH SONG – A TEAR FOR EVERY SOUND
MAYBE YES / MAYBE NO – THIS POEM WILL FIND A USE
WHO CAN GUESS / JUST DON’T KNOW – THE ANSWER'S TOO PROFUSE
AND THEN SAID / FROM THE HEART - “LOOKING FOR THE OLD THEE”
BUT INSTEAD/ MY OWN PART – WAS WANTING TO BE FREE
WELL IF SO / “FOUND” AND READ – PLEASE UNDERSTAND THIS PART
IS BLAME? “NO” / ALL’S BEEN SAID – NO LONGER NUMB IN HEART.

Written by: Ray W.
September 14, 1995 ©

The Planets lonliest blog.

"Hello, hello, hello....
is there anybody in there?
just nod if you can hear me...
is there anyone at home."

by now I had hoped that I would have found more people interested in reading more stories....
either I am not working at networking, sharing, or adverting enough or all who read run to the Toilet to Empty their stomachs having read some already.

My blog is becoming uncomfortably numb.

Are You Listening ?

The stillness of a winter's tree

The rushing roar of the ocean's tide

In all creation's melody

In the mighty rocks on a mountain side

Are You Listening - Do You Hear

Are You Listening?

The voice inside that says to speak

To a hurting heart that you do not know

To share the Love salvation brings

Before the darkness can claim that soul

Are You Listening - Do You Hear

Are You Listening?

Are You Listening to all

that God would have you hear

Do you let His Spirit speak to yours

Can you hear or is some sin just too deafening

Are you kneeling at the alter

Before you exit out the doors?

Are You Listening?

From Genesis through Revelation

How much have you written on your heart

The stage is set for Exaltation

For our Lord, are you gonna play your part

Are You Listening - Do You Hear

Are You Listening?

Sunday Meeting is now over

Have you let the preachers words sink in

Are you standing in Gods Armor on His Rock

Or in the sand of unrepented sin

Were You Listening - Did You Hear

Were You Listening - Is it Clear

All Creation's - Melody - Sings, Are You Listening?

Are You Listening to all

that God would have you hear

Did you let His Spirit speak to yours

Can you hear or is some sin just too deafening

Are you kneeling at the alter

Before you exit out the doors?

Are You Listening?

Are You Listening?

Are You Listening?

Written by Gods inspiration, in the heart of:

Ray Winkleman 2010 ©