I tried to capture this fellow in this pose several times but he’d flown away by the time I got my camera out. This morning he granted me the favor of a last visit and stood still long enough for me to capture this shot and a number of others—first a few of his mate, whom he replaced when she flew away—and then of him. I’m finally home. There is no place like it!!!
All day long, I gobble gobble. Strut my stuff over the cobble proud and straight, without a wobble, until a man comes with a hobble. I’d tell the rest if I were able, Instead, I’m laid out on your table!
1. This is one sketch for the potential main character in my book. 2. Here is another rough sketch.
4. And a fourth. Which do you prefer, if any? This is for a dog for a little boy.
Matt’s Daily Inkling prompt today is: How do you know when the time is right to add a new pet to the family? What’s the most interesting story in your life of adding a pet?
Are you picking up my vibes, Matt???? Can you believe that I am at this very moment trying to choose the prototypes for the three puppies in my new story book entitled “I Really Want a Puppy!”
I’d appreciate everyone voting on whether they find any of these preliminary rough sketches appealing for a story book for 3 to 8 year olds. I need three puppies, members of the same litter, and I’m trying to choose which one the little boy would like. If you would just vote yes or no on # 1, 2, 3 and 4 and indicate which you think would be most appealing for a little boy. The style of #1 is very different. After seeing it, I requested more cartoonish sketches. This is a story book for children age 3 to 8. Remember, these are preliminary sketches. If you like more than one, vote for up to three, but indicate which you think a little boy would like the most. If you don’t like any of them, let me know and it is back to the drawing board.
Ssspartan to the nth degree, he may be lurking in a tree. In shape he must exemplify nature’s attempt to ssssimplify.
(No arms or legs to complicate his lithe movement through glade or gate.) Not limited by all those parts that curtail our stops and starts,
his every motion unimpeded, his conquestsss easily completed. Under a rock, he may lie coiled. In sssswiftness, he cannot be foiled.
Hands and feet may have their uses, but they may lead to abuses. Toes can stub and feet may catch on bumps or stones. They are no match
for a ssssnake’s swift glide and ssssssting. Limbs are not good for everything! It’s true, a sssnake would be more harmlesss if he had not been born armlessss!
My cats had this snake cornered near the kitchen door, proving me wrong by demonstrating that some footed creatures are a good match for a snake. Yolanda’s keen eyes brought it to my attention, and between us, we proved to be its friends. KItties were curtailed. The serpent glided on to sssafety.
I measure her cat food with care from the vat, but she has such an aptitude, my little cat for flushing out lizards and others like that. With delicate paw thrusts, she gives them a bat ’til they barely know where it is that they’re at, then unleashes her claws for a more severe pat.
Be it lizard or bird or scorpion or rat, she defeats it as though it were merely a gnat and lays it out nicely on my front door mat: one scorpion sting less or a feather for my hat, then returns to the stool where she formerly sat, licking her chops, and that’s why she’s so fat!!!
I suspect you are the guilty one. The evidence is clear, and as a further indication, you’re acting rather queer. Those pork chops just left in the pan a short while ago are nowhere to be seen now, though I’ve looked both high and low. I don’t know where the bones have gone, but I have a suspicion that when you last entered the house, those chops were your ambition! I left the room for minutes and came back, much perturbed, to find the skillet empty, albeit undisturbed, still centered on the burner with not even one chop. So now I fear my dinner guests are going to have to stop to pick us up a pizza as they drive here from town, for when I left the pork chops on the stove top to get brown, SOMEONE helped himself to them. Mind, I’m not pointing fingers, but as you skulk out of the room, still, my suspicion lingers. You are a likely felon, dear little doggie mine. I think you’d have no chance in a doggie suspect line!
True story. Six pork chops!!! Skillet still centered over the flame, not one inch out of alignment. Later on, a mysterious stash of pork chop bones found by the gardener in the lower garden behind the studio.