Werewolves in Pittsburgh

You Make Me Slow

All I ask is that you half-ass keep up with me. But no. Like every other aspect of your life, you just kind of lope along, trailing further and further behind. Keep up, Monkey-Man! And that goes double for the rest of my pack (whose number has swollen to 23 as of September 13th). Hallie

Et In Arcadia Ego

Pawprints

One night, I had a dream. I dreamt I was walking along the beach, with my MONKEY-PERSON. Across the sky flashed scenes from my life. For example, my brief imprisonment in Athens, Georgia; cantering chest-deep through Pennsylvanian snow falls; killing a heat-addled sparrow last month with a crushing pounce out of the shadows . . . And even though this next part doesn't really make any sense, for each of these scenes, I noticed two sets of pawprints in the sand: one belonging to me, and the other to my MONKEY-PERSON . . .

And when the latest scene from my life flashed before, I looked back at the pawprints in the sand. I noticed that many times along the path of my life, there was only one set of pawprints. I also noticed that it happened at the very best and most wonderful times in my life.

I thought about this, and I questioned my MONKEY-PERSON about it: "MONKEY-MAN, you said that once you sprung me from that jail cell in north Georgia, you'd walk with me everywhere. But I have noticed that in the best times of my life, there was only one set of pawprints. I don't understand why."

My MONKEY-PERSON replied: "My precious little wolf-cub, I love you and I would never leave you of my own free will. But during your times of Abundance and Joy, when you see only one set of pawprints, it was then you slipped the leash, or bolted through an open door, and ran off without me!"

Hallie

Fixin' to Dine

Some Things Cannot Be Made Up; Or, My Last Fortune Cookie . . .

"BEAUTY IS IN THE EYE OF THE BEHOLDER. WONTON OR DUMPLING?"

And my Chinese word: "BU" - "NO"

My Lucky Numbers: 21, 13, 26, 40, 27, 9

Hallie

Constipation

After dreaming about former Senator Mike Gravel (see above), I woke up constipated this morning. I hate it, but I have a procedure for this. I strolled over to my monkey-person's bed and cried in his ear for half an hour. Then, as dawn began to break, he stirred. Then I placed a heavy paw on his arm. Then I barked at him. There might have also been some yelping, too. Finally he took me outside, where I promptly ate several mouthfuls of grasses in order to restart my peristaltic motions. Then, after that objective had been achieved, it was off to find just the right spot. Then I achieved my ultimate goal! Hallie