My Dog

I want to start off by saying that I love animals and especially dogs. Infact, I have a dog, and his name is Teddy. Teddy is a small, brown and white Cavanese, which is a mix between a King Charles Cavalier and a Javanese.

Teddy is very smart but doesn’t use his brain for anything except for getting food, or other things for his advantage only. For example, one day my brother was chasing me around the house, and Teddy joined in. Soon enough, I ran in to our kitchen where we have an island that if my brother ran at me, I could just go the other way. then, my brother ran at me, so I turned to run the other way. Little did I know, Teddy was waiting for me. He used his smarts and went the other way to block me off. Also, he’s learned how to open the gate that keeps him downstairs. What a dog.

Besides being smart, Teddy is sneaky and crafty. There was a time when I was working on something for school, and my back was facing the kitchen table. While I wasn’t looking, Teddy jumped up, onto the table where an uncovered pan of brownies lay. Extreme hops. Extreme dog. I turned around to notice Teddy on the table eating the brownies. For the rest of the day, he was running nonstop. He had eaten six full sized brownies. What a dog

As you’ve probably seen so far, my dog, Teddy, is a smart, sneaky one, and he will never stop. Teddy does so many other crazy things that I would love to tell you about, but–“Teddy! Get off the table!”–duty calls.

This whole post, I told you what a dog Teddy is, but now, I want you to comment below about your dog.

Poem

He’s not a funny guy; says the silence after his jokes.

Neither is he a good student; say the referrals his mother gets.

He just can’t pay attention; say the doodles on his desk.

Also, a terrible sport; say the red cards with his name on them.

He wears large boots; say the huge footprints in the mud.

And he has a love for hunting; say the magazines on the bookshelf.

But he’s not the man to go to for game; say the blank targets.

 

Don’t be like this man, oh please, oh please,

or else you will be the one with his disease.

– By Me

 

Inspired by: “Abandoned Farmhouse” by Ted Krooser

 

Casey at the Bat

Night Game in Seattle Justin Brown via Compfight

Casey at the Bat

BY ERNEST LAWRENCE THAYER

A Ballad of the Republic, Sung in the Year 1888

The outlook wasn’t brilliant for the Mudville nine that day;
The score stood four to two with but one inning more to play.
And then when Cooney died at first, and Barrows did the same,
A sickly silence fell upon the patrons of the game.
A straggling few got up to go in deep despair. The rest
Clung to that hope which springs eternal in the human breast;
They thought if only Casey could but get a whack at that—
We’d put up even money now with Casey at the bat.
But Flynn preceded Casey, as did also Jimmy Blake,
And the former was a lulu and the latter was a cake;
So upon that stricken multitude grim melancholy sat,
For there seemed but little chance of Casey’s getting to the bat.
But Flynn let drive a single, to the wonderment of all,
And Blake, the much despised, tore the cover off the ball;
And when the dust had lifted, and men saw what had occurred,
There was Jimmy safe at second and Flynn a-hugging third.
Then from 5,000 throats and more there rose a lusty yell;
It rumbled through the valley, it rattled in the dell;
It knocked upon the mountain and recoiled upon the flat,
For Casey, mighty Casey, was advancing to the bat.
There was ease in Casey’s manner as he stepped into his place;
There was pride in Casey’s bearing and a smile on Casey’s face.
And when, responding to the cheers, he lightly doffed his hat,
No stranger in the crowd could doubt ’twas Casey at the bat.
Ten thousand eyes were on him as he rubbed his hands with dirt;
Five thousand tongues applauded when he wiped them on his shirt.
Then while the writhing pitcher ground the ball into his hip,
Defiance gleamed in Casey’s eye, a sneer curled Casey’s lip.
And now the leather-covered sphere came hurtling through the air,
And Casey stood a-watching it in haughty grandeur there.
Close by the sturdy batsman the ball unheeded sped—
“That ain’t my style,” said Casey. “Strike one,” the umpire said.
From the benches, black with people, there went up a muffled roar,
Like the beating of the storm-waves on a stern and distant shore.
“Kill him! Kill the umpire!” shouted some one on the stand;
And it’s likely they’d have killed him had not Casey raised his hand.
With a smile of Christian charity great Casey’s visage shone;
He stilled the rising tumult; he bade the game go on;
He signaled to the pitcher, and once more the spheroid flew;
But Casey still ignored it, and the umpire said, “Strike two.”
“Fraud!” cried the maddened thousands, and echo answered fraud;
But one scornful look from Casey and the audience was awed.
They saw his face grow stern and cold, they saw his muscles strain,
And they knew that Casey wouldn’t let that ball go by again.
The sneer is gone from Casey’s lip, his teeth are clinched in hate;
He pounds with cruel violence his bat upon the plate.
And now the pitcher holds the ball, and now he lets it go,
And now the air is shattered by the force of Casey’s blow.
Oh, somewhere in this favored land the sun is shining bright;
The band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light,
And somewhere men are laughing, and somewhere children shout;
But there is no joy in Mudville—mighty Casey has struck out.
I was reading just a simple children’s baseball book when I saw this poem, and right after I finished reading it, I knew I was going to use it for my blog post. Casey at the Bat is about a guy who goes up to bat to try and win the game for his team, but sadly, he strikes out. I think this poem is pretty funny, for instead of Casey winning the game for his team he struck out.

Three Places You Have to Visit in Killington, Vermont

In Killington, you’ll experience very accommodating people as well as uncrowded and snowy slopes. If you want to get in a good day’s worth of skiing, the best maple delicatessens in the world, and warm-your-soul homemade chili, Killington is for you.

 

Mount Washington Fog James Wheeler via Compfight

KILLINGTON SKI RESORT

The Killington Ski Resort, known as The Beast, has 6 peaks, the highest rising to only 4, 241. The Beast is never completely crowded making it a great place to get lots of good runs in.

The Beast

The Aftermath Kevin Spencer via Compfight

CAPRISSIO ITALIAN RESTAURANT

At Caprissio, you’ll experience amazing service along with exceptional food.

Caprissio

Hiking in Sweden James Losey via Compfight

THE BEAST MOUNTAIN COASTER & HIKING TRAILS

Also on The Beast lie beautiful hiking trails with fabulous views from the top of the mountain and remarkable scenery. Other than hiking trails on the mountain there is also a roller coaster known as The Beast Mountain Coaster. The Coaster covers 4,800 ft with controls allowing you to control your own speed.

Killington Trails and The Beast Mountain Coaster

S.O.A.S.A. : Where It All Began – Fmoxy

S.O.A.S.A. According to Fmoxy-

Hi there, as you probably already know, I’m Fmoxy, a Red Fox from Crested Butte, Colorado,  but one thing you still don’t know about me is…well, you’ll soon find out.

It was December 4, the worst day to catch field mice, but guess who was out catching field mice. Yup, good old Fmoxy the fox was out trying to catch the hardest possible prey to catch. I hadn’t eaten since a few days before, so I was in major need of food. Then, all of a sudden, a mouse! Finally! I started to chase my precious life saver, who was running for his life.

I continued to chase what I thought was a random mouse, but as I neared it I noticed a familiar stripe down the mouse’s back, so I yelled out, “Tommy?”

The mouse turned around with a grin on his face, and as I wondered if it was my best friend or not, the mouse spoke, “Finally, you noticed!” he said, “I was waiting for you to notice that I was I and Me was Me so I could stop running from you!”

From there, the conversation was mostly full of i’m sorries, said by yours truly, and some I’m telling you, it’s okays, by Tommy. We kept on walking, and we kept on talking. Before we knew it, we were lost miles from home. Now you might be wondering how wild animals can get lost in the wild, but I’m telling you, Tommy and I were lost. Lost. I don’t know how far away we were from home, but we were lost in our own backyard.

After not finding any way to get back home, we decided to take a break. What did I do during that break?

I thought.

 

And waited.

 

 

 

And thought.

 

 

 

 

 

 

And waited…

 

 

 

 

S.O.A.S.A. : Where It All Began – Corral

S.O.A.S.A. according to Corral –

Hello, I’m Corral, a White Tiger born in Houston, TX. I was an average tiger that played average tiger games. Then, one night, I upped my game.

It was June 17, the Belgian Tigers’ day off somewhere, and I was pumped to get out of my stupid see-through glass cage. As my trainer opened the door to come and feed me, I bolted towards her. As any human would, if a tiger was coming straight at him/her, she jumped aside for her life. Yes, my plan worked perfectly, and since the Belgians’ (that’s what I call my archenemies, I have names for all my enemies) were gone, all I had to do was creep through the vet cages and…bam, I’m home free.

Little did I know, my evil, don’t-let-the-tiger-out trainer had pushed a red button that set off the the-tiger-got-out alarm which sent all of security and animal control to my area of the building. I kept on running, through the fire and the storm, a.k.a. some weird, loud, blaring sound that annoyed the nerves out of me. I neared the last gate as it started to close. Oh no, I thought, my trainer must have pressed the the-tiger-got-out button.

I didn’t know if I would make it through to the other side or not, so I made a run for it.

The gate was probably halfway closed, but I kept on running. Then, all of a sudden, it stopped! The gate had stopped closing! I still don’t know why or how it was stopped, but that didn’t matter. All that mattered was that the gate was open and I was home free, into the wild of Houston.

As I neared the gate, I noticed how close the gate had actually come to closing. It was probably only one foot from completely closing. At the sight, I stopped, wait a second, I can’t fit through there. No. No, no, no! All my cunning, effort, and awesomeness gone to waste because of stupid gate. Really?  I asked my self. Once I realized my dream would not come true, I made my way, though I regretted it, back to my stupid see-through glass cage.

As I made my way back to my cage, I thought of other ways to escape.

There weren’t any.

All I could do was think.

 

And wait.

 

 

 

 

And think.

 

 

 

 

 

 

And wait…

 

Prized Possession

When I was younger I had stuffed animals. Now they weren’t just any old stuffed animals, they were the real deal.

I had names for each stuffed animal, like Buddy and Fmoxy, and I even made a secret agent organization for my favorite ones. The name of the secret agent organization was S.O.A.S.A., standing for…The Secret Organization for Agents that are Stuffed Animals, most commonly known as S.O.A.S.A. In S.O.A.S.A., each member (stuffed animal) had its own super power. The powers ranged from a super cannonball jump to camouflage.

Sometimes, I would try to trick my mom into thinking I was “feeding” my stuffed animals when I would bring pieces of candy up to my room, she never fell for it, ever. One day, a few years ago, I had a fun size pack of skittles that I was hiding in my hand on my way upstairs. Then, my mom asked me what was in my hand. I thought to myself, what should I say, so I pulled a fast one on her, I thought, by saying, “Oh, I’m feeding my stuffed animals.” As always, she didn’t fall for it. Such a great excuse gone to waste because I used it on my mother.

Not only did I make the S.O.A.S.A. and feed my stuffed animals, I would also carry them around wherever I could, which was basically everywhere for a toddler like me. It became an item on the checklist for me to get a stuffed animal from wherever my family and I went for our vacations. If my family went somewhere, before we left, “Ohp, Josiah needs to get his stuffed animal,” someone would say. So that’s what I’d do, get my stuffed animal.

I don’t know what I would have done without my stuffed animals when I was younger, I don’t know what any kid would have gone through without their stuffed animals. They were like friends to me, some even like family. I also don’t know what I’m going to do in the future with all the stuffed animals I have. Hopefully, though, whatever I do with them, my S.O.A.S.A. agents will defend to the end.

Next Week-

The Adventures of S.O.A.S.A.: The Rescue of Tweety Bird

Party Time pt. 2

We arrived at BounceFun, got our wristbands and got playing. It wasn’t crowded at all, especially considering it was a Friday afternoon and all. There were only about 6 kids, making Humphrey and his parents 7, 8, and 9. Oh, by the way, I would be the 10th person, and the employee in the front of BounceFun would be the 11th person.

We were having a blast, then we heard a loud scream, then gunshots from the front of the building.

“Dude, did you hear that?!!” I had started to go in to panic mode.

“Of course!” Humphrey sounded annoyed, but he immediately ran to the front of BounceFun in a curious and worried fashion.

I followed.

Comment your favorite bouncy or your favorite trampoline place.

Last Blog Post of 2015

Hello Readers, this is my last blog post of 2015, yet I might do one more for those of you reading Gone.

I do want to say that Gone is a fictional story that I, and only I made from my good ‘ol noggin. I get all my writing from ideas that just spring up in my head, and that’s the fun thing, I get to make up whatever I want for my stories. You know those “choose your own adventure” books, well that’s what it’s like when I write. I can just think of something and then… Bam! it’s my next story.

I am so glad that the school year is over, and ,speaking of which, I really have to go. Thank you to all who have read my posts, and thank you, also, for commenting (if you did). Merry Christmas, a Happy New Year and until next time, goodbye.

Ch. 2 continued

About 30 minutes later, Humphrey’s Mother came home. She saw us playing the Mattel football game and stared.

She was amazed. Humphrey got his speechless side from his mother, ” Wow, Gilbert!” she stared at the screen. “Humphrey you are so lucky you have a friend like Gilbert. Do you even know how much those cost? You better have thanked him.” By now, it had become a lecture.

“I know, Mom,” I smiled as Humphrey said this.

Then his Mom continued her lecture by talking about friends, thank yous, manners in general, how video games destroy people’s brains, and then she summed it up with a thank you to me.

“By the way, we’ve got to leave for BounceFun in about 5 minutes. Also, Humphrey we’re meeting your Father there.