[i] Life on the Farm
[ii] The Strange Squirrel
[iii] The Rattle-Glider
[iv] The Sinister Streak
[v] The Buzzing Gibbosity
[I]
and Life on the Farm
CHALKY DOGG’S RIGHT EAR is black and always cocks upwards whenever something intrigues or puzzles him — a sign of concentration . Sometimes Chalk’s rambunctious nature gets the best of him, and many times things go awry, and most times Chalk thinks he’s done well . No one can stay mad at Chalky Dogg long, ’cause he’s so darn cute .
Chalky arf–barks his love for farm life . Mangled daffodil petals trail from the garden and point toward Chalky’s next target, the creek : rabbit crisis averted, tail wagging ; because he knows that Bob’ll be so proud of him when he comes back home .
*[ WSB ].
[II]
and the Strange Squirrel
PRANCING DOWN TO THE CREEK near the cowpasture, Chalk Dogg’s black tail wags joyously, still proud of his rabbit–chasing prowess . Chalky loves the gurgling stream, and enjoys cooling his tippytoes in water . However, his disposition crumples when a twigsnap alerts Chalky toward a strange, dark squirrel — tail flipping defiantly .
Statuesque, foreleg pointing, Chalk feels his neck hair bristling as his machine–gun barks urge sparrows to another tree . The black squirrel disappears after Chalky closes in .
Chalky Dogg happily greets Bob’s return home, but Bob grabs his nose, and speaking with a funny voice asks, “ What have you gotten into ! ? ” .
*[ WSB ].
[III]
and the Rattle-Glider
AFTER SEVERAL BATHS of hydrogen peroxide and baking soda, Chalk Dogg shimmy-shakes dry, back on duty . [ Flashback to the stinky squirrel . Puzzling .], no matter, things to do .
Trotting around the house — the garage — something sharp sticks up from the trash bin : the rattle glider ! But Bob used to love flying that with the stick string, rattling in the wind like an agitated grass slider . He must have lost it, Chalky figures .
Chalky Dogg tips the trashcan, popping the vacuum cleaner bag, strewing scraps . In need of another bath ; tail high, he drops the broken kite at Bob’s feet — mission accomplished .
*[ WSB ].
[IV]
and the Sinister Streak
CHALK DOGG IS SPIC AND SPAN, back on farm patrol duty . The mud–snorters, ground–scratchers, and grass–munchers appear safe, so Chalky heads indoors for a sweep . Passing the living room, Chalky freezes when a ping–pong-sized shadow flits, then vanishes . A few growl–barks sound ; sniff–sniff, the game is afoot !
The menacing, inch–long tuft of fur streaks under the bar cabinet, so does Chalk’s head, his larger back–end follows shortly acting as a lever to topple the bar, the various spirits and crystal glasses crash to the floor .
The vole odor gone, Chalky prances proudly onward .
*[ WSB ].
[V]
and the Buzzing Gibbosity
PATIENT BOB HAS CLEANED THE PREVIOUS RESIDUE of wanton puppy escapades away . Chalky Dogg sleeps soundly in the parlor ; the quiet profound .
BBZZZZZ . . . a distant chainsaw sound rips through the silence, yanking Chalky from slumber land, setting off a chain of barking .
Not much smell : pollen, sweetness .
The buzzing mass hovers under the ceiling, crosses the room . Chalky follows, jumping, barking . Catches the curtains under paw, they fall . The smidgen moves faster, looping, banging against the walls . Chalk knocks pictures off the walls .
Bob arrives home, out flies the buzzer . Chalk Dogg decompresses . Bob’s brow furrows, he sighs .
*[ WSB ].
Occupation : Poet . 