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When You Are Away – The Furry and the Furious (The Poodle’s Faux Pas!)

Had been busy introspecting. Imagine a writer getting pet-portraiture requests! I know I did something odd – something that people don’t do…but it opened the flood-gates. I fell in love with the pictures of a couple of pups and sketched them – every once in a while I do it. Sketch pups. But I can’t do it all the time, especially for free. I mean, I am no Bill Gates! Heck, I don’t even earn the minimum wages, I don’t have a medical insurance, and I need to really work hard go put food on the table. So…an offer to sketch for a fee would be acceptable, even appreciated, but I can’t do it for free.

Anyway, the point is that I am left with two options:

1. Stop sketching and sharing the sketches.
2. Develop a thick hide and refuse the sketch-for-free offers.

Still weighing.

Meanwhile, here’s a “When you are Away” cartoon for you. If you have a lady dog, especially a poodle, you would know what she means.

When you are Away…Pet (Dog, Cat) cartoons by Bobby Elhans - The Poodle's fashion sense.

I’ll be posting Chapter 6 soon…when I resurface for another big gulp of air!

 

 

 

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From the Hideout: Dogs have Feelings too – So choose your words carefully!

I’ve been stuck here for about two weeks now. It’s been like I’ve been living the longest Alaskan night in Deadhorse, Alaska! I bet I am not going to be out of here in 54 nightly days…it might be a lot longer than that.

I had read somewhere that an empty mind is the devil’s workshop. Well, the devil has been working all the Alaskan night long, and producing content that doesn’t fit into any genre…nor does it fit into my head!

But let’s push the devilish thoughts aside and talk about feelings.

We always find people whining about how others hurt their feelings. Some people, young and old alike, think that everyone else needs to be careful with their words; everyone except they themselves. Then we also have people, more often the young ones, who think that elders need to give them space; but that the elders don’t need any space for themselves. You know the kind, don’t you?

And yet, not everyone complains. They too have feelings, they too feel hurt, but they don’t snap at us (thankfully,) they don’t get teary-eyed, they don’t throw stuff around, they don’t huff and puff and walk out of the door – they just let us be nasty.

If you have a dog or a cat, you know what I am talking about. You can recall, the way I can, those incidents when you did stuff that was totally uncalled for…and then later, without asking for any explanation, your furry friend was by your side again – not demanding apologies, not showing you the emotional bruises left behind by your rough treatment.

Here’s what would happen if your dog was human.

Cartoon pets (dogs and cats) - Dogs have feelings too - what would dogs do if they were human!

We are lucky that they are dogs…and cats…and ever so forgiving 🙂

 

If you’ve got a pet, there’s a good chance that you love him or her; even then, there are occasions when they exasperate you, and you shout at them. Reign your emotions in. They can’t fight you back – not on account of their hurt feelings.

Now go, hug your pet.

Additional Note: No. They aren’t “it.” Not for me. Not for most pet-owners and animal-lovers. The Grammarians must call it quits on this matter.

 

 
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Posted by on May 17, 2014 in Pet Humor, Pup and Dog Cartoons

 

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Chapter 4: From the Apple Grove to the Knoll – Becoming Anon (Part I)

<<<Chapter 3: The Nameless Boy and the Cave that Wasn’t (Part II)<<<

When the boy left the cave, the sky was already starting to darken. This meant that in a little more than an hour, it would be pitch black in the woods. He looked up. The clouds gray and heavy were racing across the northern sky and then slowing down in the center. He knew it was going to rain again.

The boy quickened his pace.

He was wearing high-ankle leather boots that were a few sizes larger, an overcoat that fell down to his ankles, and a hat that had covered half his face. The hat was old and torn, and around the rim were many holes. If one looked closer, they could see that the overcoat and the boots were no better off, but in the last seven years nobody had ever come into the woods so what he wore really didn’t matter. He had outgrown his clothes long ago. His father’s clothes big, but they were comfortable.

He took the gravelly path that went around the hill of his cave. Only he knew about the existence of the path – others would have seen nothing but the undergrowth and the bushes that camouflaged it. The path took him halfway around the hill to the grove of the apple trees. His hill was one of the many that surrounded the mountain that he thought of as the Big Mountain. The grove of the apple trees was in the valley between by his hill and the big mountain.

He was sure he would find some apples there. They would keep him going until morning. All he wanted to do now was collect the apples and run back to his cave, so that he could spend the whole night in the secret room that he had discovered this morning.

He decided to take a shortcut and veered right. The shortcut was his way of sliding down the side of the hill to the grove. The hillside wasn’t smooth and grassy, so his first shortcut had left him with a pair of seat-less trousers.

After that terrible failure, he had invented the Wruff, which was a plank of wood with a handle in front. All he had to do was hang on to the handle tight. He got on it and as the Wruff flew down the hillside, he let out a happy yell…wheeeeee. It took him half a minute to reach the grove.

The grove looked exactly as he had imagined it. The storm they had last night had shook the apples off the branches.

Chapter 4 Part 1 - The nameless boy - apple grove - dog rescue - pet stories, dog stories, superheroes etc.

Several apples were lying in the grass, and many looked good to eat. He picked them up, checked them, sniffed them, and after tossing five of them away, he selected three. He deposited them into the pocket of his overcoat and prepared to leave.

Just then, the air around him filled with a strange sound. He had never heard that kind of sound before. It sounded a little like a wolf howling, but he knew for sure that this wasn’t really a wolf.

The sound was soaked in loneliness. It was a plea for help.

——— ¤¤¤ ———

Part II reveals our hero. Shhhh…! (A secret: If you love dogs…you are going to love Chapter 4 – Part II)

 
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Posted by on May 12, 2014 in Chapters, Super-heroes

 

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From the Hideout: Every Dog Knows – To Hit the Mark, Aim a Little Above it!

Still here, but no grudges. I’ve been making cyber-friends who don’t talk to me but Like my posts, tweets, and retweets. It sort of makes me feel a little in touch with the thriving humanity outside this can of a place I am living in. As I said, no grudges.

I’ve never been a target-oriented hound of perfection. Never was, never will be. I think that the obsession to be perfect is the bane of the human-society. No other being is so driven by the need to hit the mark every time, all the time! Really. Let us talk about the writerly types. We obsess over punctuation and grammar all the time. I sometimes wonder why I should experience an acid reflux every time a comma decides to swap places with a period, or a “the” changes into “they”. It just squeezes all the fun out of writing, doesn’t it?

Here are a couple of target-oriented canines. Never before I had drawn a pup in the act of answering nature’s call – but the call to draw this cartoon came from within and strangely enough it helped me overcome my fear of drawing a peeing pup (PeeingPupPhobia?) !

If you would hit the mark, you must aim a little above it. – Henry W. Longfellow

Pup and Dog Cartoons - a pup learns to pee - if you would hit the target you have to aim a little higher!

Incidentally, this Follow thing’s great. It helps you discover like-minded people both-ways. Here are few of the blogs that I discovered through this route.

Check them out – depending upon where your interests lie.  I’ll share some more links with my future toony blogposts. On The Heroes front, Chapter 4 is ready to roll off the line, and will be presented either tomorrow or the day after. If you are new here, please find the links to the chapters of the book in the right sidebar.

Returning to the topic of Perfection and aiming right, what are your thoughts?
Who are you?

  1. A Perfection Hound,
  2. A Just-Missed-the-Target Pup,
  3. An I-gave-up-on-Perfection Wise Old Dog?!
 

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Chapter 3 (Continued): The Nameless Boy and the Cave that wasn’t (Part II)

<<<Chapter 3: The Nameless Boy and the Cave that Wasn’t (Part I)<<<

(Continued from Chapter 3 – Part I)

But it would be dark inside, he thought.

There were a few candles somewhere in the cave, perhaps in the kitchen – he remembered how his mother used the lighter to light them up. Fortunately, the light-lever always worked and he never had to use them, so they must still be there.

He found the candles in one of the drawers near the sink. He took one, lighted it, and carried it back into the bedroom. Then he pulled out the brass key that he wore around his neck, and pushed it in the keyhole of the door that had tormented him for the last seven years.

He tried to turn the key in the lock, but it refused to budge. He tried again, clockwise and counter-clockwise both, but it nothing happened.

His heart sank. Perhaps it was the wrong key, but he couldn’t give up without trying, could he? The need to look at what lay behind the door gained strength from his inability to open the door.

He placed the candle on the desk to free his other hand.

He tried again, but failed. Either the key didn’t belong to this lock, or it didn’t open the lock the regular way.

Not the regular way?

His parents never did anything the regular way. Perhaps there was another way. The boy was uneducated but smart. He checked the space around the lock. Sure enough, this wasn’t a regular lock. There were twelve tiny holes around the keyhole.

He had an idea.

He ran back into the kitchen and brought back a small screwdriver. He inserted the screwdriver into one of the holes. It touched something, perhaps a disk that got pushed back by a few millimeters. He held the screwdriver in position, tried turning the key again. The key didn’t demand any effort from him this time, and he heard the lock open with a soft click.

He smiled to laud his own victory.

He pushed the door open. It was a heavy door made of metal. It opened into total darkness. The boy had no idea how deep this room, or recess, or whatever it was, was.

He was glad that he had thought of the candle. He picked it up and entered.

His heart beat faster as he looked around. The room was about thirty feet deep, and there were things that he had never seen before. Wooden shelves lined with books cast scary looking shadows on the walls, a huge table that was almost treble the size of the kitchen table stood in the middle, overflowing with books, parchment, lamps, and other objects that he could barely recognize.

Gingerly he walked around the table and reached his father’s chair. He placed the candle down upon the surface of the table. Oddly enough, there was no dust on the surface.

Then he lowered himself into his father’s seat.

Open in front of him was a handwritten, leather-bound notebook. He looked at it mesmerized. He couldn’t read, but he knew that it belonged to his father, and that made him feel sad and happy at the same time. He reached out and touched the pages of the notebook. Then he whispered one of the few words that he knew.

“Papa,” he said, his throat parched and his eyes stinging.

chapter 3 - pen and ink artwork - father's leather-bound notebook that the boy finds behind the locked door - artwork, illustrations.

He sat there for a long time, turning the pages of the notebook, looking at the drawings and the writing of his father. He wished he knew how to read and write. Faint images of his mother teaching him how to write faded in and out of his mind.

He pulled himself away from the notebook, leaving it where it was. Then he got up and walked around the table, trying to peer through the glass-doors of the cabinets. He wished there was light in there.

Perhaps there was, perhaps there was a lever somewhere. The way there was a lever outside for lighting up rest of the cave.

He came back to the table, picked up the candle, and starting checking the walls.

There it was, right next to one of the cabinets. It was smaller than the one outside. He pushed it down, and the place flooded with light.

He stayed in the room for a long time. He looked at the objects – glass containers, metal-strips, an extendible metal tube with glass at one end; he looked at the books and diaries, most leather-bound, some monogramed with an eagle.

He didn’t realize how long he had been there until he heard a rumbling sound. It took him a moment to recognize it as the sound that he stomach made when he was hungry.

There won’t be fish for dinner, but he could find something else – perhaps collect some berries or find some fallen fruits.

He knew that he wouldn’t sleep that night. His fear of the unknown room had disappeared completely. Now he didn’t want to leave it. With a heavy heart, he switched the light off and left the room.

——— ¤¤¤ ———

The nameless boy had no idea that his destiny was about to change, and that he was also going to get a name…very soon.

 
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Posted by on May 7, 2014 in Chapters, Super-heroes, The Heroes

 

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Chapter 3: The Nameless Boy and the Cave that wasn’t (Part I)

<<<Chapter 2: Cubby<<<

(Introducing the boy and the cave that wasn’t…)

.

The boy entered the cave, wet and shivering. He had been out in the rain too long.

His early morning fishing expedition had resulted in nothing. Not that he had expected much. Rain always agitated the water in the river making the fish vanish from his regular fishing spots. But he had to try. After spending a full hour out in the cold, with the icy breeze lashing on his back, he had returned empty-handed.

The boy lived in this cave alone; he had lived here forever.

Seven years ago, he wasn’t alone. His parents used to live with him. Then one day, they left and never returned. All these years he had lived alone and fended for himself. He had learned to divide the day into two halves. When he woke up in the morning, the first half began. In the mornings he fished, hunted, or collected fruits and nuts. When his shadow became really small and almost vanished under his feet, he stopped work and returned to his cave.
On days like today when the sun didn’t shine, he lost track of time. So when he returned to the cave today, he was not aware that it was still the first half of the day.

He pushed aside the grass and the creepers that hid the entrance of the cave, and entered.

.

Chapter 3 - the Heroes - The Nameless Boy and the Cave that wasn't - Bobby Elhans

After taking three measured steps in the dark, he raised his hand and pushed down a lever that jutted from the wall at his left. A bulb went on and lighted the area in front of him. He had used the lever on his own for the last seven years, and yet he had no idea why pushing that lever down could light up the cave.

The interiors of the cave that he had entered couldn’t have looked less like a cave, but he had never seen any other cave, so he didn’t find it odd. In fact, the interiors of his cave looked more like those of a house. Caves were usually narrow and they went deep into the belly of the mountain but this one didn’t.

This cave was different. It flared inside its mouth on both sides and its walls were made of wood.

Unlike the regular caves, its floor wasn’t made of dirt; instead it was paved with stone. After a small open area, there was a wooden wall with a door in the middle. The door didn’t have a lock, but it had a clasp to shut it.

The boy undid the clasp, opened the door, and entered the room he knew as the lobby. The lobby was not a lot to look at. It had a rug on the stone floor and a vase of artificial flowers in a corner.

The door in the wall at the boy’s left opened in a small kitchen – complete with a fireplace, a chimney, and a wooden table that had three wooden chairs placed around it.

The boy went into the kitchen and picked up an apple that lay on the table, and then he turned and walked out of the kitchen into the lobby.

He didn’t stop in the lobby; instead he swung open the door that was opposite to the kitchen door. This door opened into a much bigger area that had another locked door in the far wall. A comfortable looking couch, a cupboard, a desk, and a bed occupied the space.
The boy was tired. He dropped down on the bed, and took a bite from the apple.

More than tired, the boy was bored.

Then he remembered the key. Absently and wordlessly, the boy wondered how hunger had the capacity to make you forget everything. Just last night, he had found the key that he had been dreaming of, all these years.

He turned and gazed at the locked door behind him. The door had tormented him for years. It had snuck into his dreams and turned them into nightmares. For the boy, the door had symbolized both hope and fear.

Once again, looking at it, he was reminded of the questions that still remained unanswered.

Why had his parents not returned?

What had happened to them?

What lay behind the door?

Why he kept dreaming that his parents were in a room behind the door?

And why, when he saw that key lying at the bottom of that urn in the loft of the kitchen, he instantly knew which door the key would open?

He had hundreds of questions that needed answering. A small voice in his head told him that this key would help him find the answers.

The door was different from those other doors in the cave. It was reinforced with steel strips. The brass locking mechanism that was embedded right in the center of it looked extremely formidable too.

The thrill of stepping into the unknown made the boy’s heart beat faster.
He slipped his hand inside the old tattered shirt that he was wearing and his fingers closed around the key.

He tossed the core of the apple into a trash bin that stood near one of the sofas, rubbed his hands on his jeans, and stood up.

He was going inside.

——— ¤¤¤ ———

To go behind the locked door, read, “Chapter 3: The Nameless Boy and the Cave that wasn’t (Part II)”  

>>>Chapter 3: The Nameless Boy and the Cave that Wasn’t (Part II)>>>

 
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Posted by on May 5, 2014 in Chapters, Super-heroes, The Heroes

 

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