“EIGHT…Where is EIGHT?. This is getting to be too much of a habit with him!” exclaimed NINE.
“I am ONE that agrees TWO!”
“That’s spelled Too ONE!”
“This is the FIFTH or SIXTH time he’s either been out of order or not here at all!” said FOUR!
“That makes THREE of us that agree TWO!”
“EIGHT! EIGHT! EIGHT! EIGHT! EIGHT! EIGHT!” That’s the SEVENTH time I’ve called him with NO ANSWER!” Grumbled NINE.
“Hey…is anyone lookin’ for me?” asked EIGHT.
A number of numbers all yelled “NOOOOOO!!!”
So EIGHT left and all the numbers that were trying to line up accomplished exactly ZERO!

Grandpa Sanders was looking high and low. Into every drawer and into every closet and even into every mirror although his grandson Mark didn’t know what his Grandpa was searching so much for, especially in mirrors.
“Ah Papa…what are you trying to find?”
“Oh….I’m looking for something that I think I lost and can’t seem to locate.”
“Maybe I can help Papa.”
“Naw…I don’t believe so. It’s all up to me and me alone to find it.”
“Well…what is it Papa? Is it a book or a piece of jewelry…or a key…yeah…you are always losing your keys.”
“No…not those things. I lost something that you should never ever lose. Something you need everyday no matter how old you get to be.”
Mark was searching around under chairs and behind cabinets but admitted he actually was just trying to be helpful and had no clue as to what his grandpa had lost.
Then Grandpa Sanders stopped and squatted down and spoke directly at Mark.
“You’ve still got it and I want you to promise me you’ll never lose it no matter what!”
“Ah…well OK Grandpa…but it would help a whole lot to know what it is that I should never lose.”
“The “KID” in you. Even after you grow up and be a man and even when you get to be as old as me…always keep that kid that you are today inside of you.”
“Well…I think I kinda see what you mean Grandpa.”
Then Mark started to think and then a huge smile lit up Mark’s formerly sad face and he took his Papa’s hand.
“C’mon Grandpa…I think I know where you can find it again.”
Mark led Grandpa Sanders outside into the backyard and onto the playground filled with swings and a sliding board.
His Papa started to smile and run, not too fast, but still running, straight for the sliding board, climbed to the top and as he whooshed down the slide yelled out an unmistakable “WHEEEE!” and just about at the middle of the slide, Mark’s Grandpa found his lost “KID”.

Every night at bedtime
After my prayers are said
I say goodnight to all the things
On and near my bed

Goodnight Mr. Teddy Bear
And Mr. Panda too
And Goodnight Dolly Polly
I bid sweet dreams to you

And then Goodnight to Mom or Dad
Who came to tuck me in
And a last Goodnight to my favorite pet
My Cocker Spaniel Ben

And then they turn my light out
And my room goes black
I say Goodnight just one more time
And hope no one answers back!

Have you ever heard
Of the elephant bird?
It’s a wonder that it can fly
The fist time I heard
I thought it absurd
In fact I thought it a lie

But after some trying
A bird book I was eyeing
Said “Exist? They really do!”
But don’t worry they’re rare
And you don’t need to care
Unless one flies over you

To the real, normal, everyday (boring) world, Mr. Jason Worthington seemed like a jolly mature and quite retired gentleman. Oh, he had eight wonderful Grandchildren who thought that he was silly on occasion but otherwise he was widely known as just…well, “Papa”.
But there was a well guarded secret that “Papa” kept only to himself.
Under his various colored knit Polo shirts and an occasional Tommy Bahama flowered Hawaiian style shirt he always wore the body hugging T shirt with the Purple Shield and the large golden capital “G”.
For you see, unbeknownst to his family and friends and neighbors, Papa was secretly “The Amazing Grandpaman!”
Papa read the news every morning in the local newspaper app on his iPad, and he would keep a well tuned ear as he walked his neighborhood for exercise each day, for any occurrence or injustice which he might perceive that he could either correct or at least improve by his stealthy actions.
He would of course upright fallen trash cans on collection day and pick up blowing trash along the street as he made his way through his community but he was always looking for the “Big Help” as he called it.
One gray morning in June he was walking his usual neighborhood route and suddenly saw something that made him instantly stop and dash behind the huge oak tree in front of the Chandler’s house.
A man was climbing out of the side window with a bulging sack. Papa knew that the Chandler’s were at their Daughter’s house in Ohio and so he naturally surmised that indeed…This was a job for GRANDPAMAN!
He crept behind the Chandler’s tall hedges and removed his “ELON” hooded sweatshirt (his youngest son graduated from that University) and put on his Golden mask and coiled up his rather mature body, ready to leap out and strike as the presumed burglar passed by.
And as the burglar was creeping past, Papa jumped out from behind the oak tree and tripped the perpetrator causing him to fall to the ground and drop his sack of stolen goods.
The burglar was so stunned that he stuttered “What…” and then tried to fight free of Papa’s firm grasp. But Papa also always carried a length of rope and an iPod with him on his walks and although the iPod isn’t effective at fighting crime, the rope is the perfect accessory to detain criminals…alleged criminals that is, and so Papa applied the rope using the knots he had learned in the Navy.
Papa called the police on his smart phone and after tying the culprit to the Oak tree, left his Purple and Gold calling card…”GRANDPAMAN” and then hid nearby until the police arrived and apprehended the thief and his bag of the Chandler’s possessions.
His smile was very wide and satisfying the next morning as Papa read the local news describing a “foiled burglary” but the best part for him was that he was still the unidentified “GRANDPAMAN”

(Visit sillygrandpa.com often for more of the continuing Adventures Of Grandpaman.)

“Hi…thanks for chatting with me. I almost never get to open my pages, feel warm hands on my binding and watch the hungry smiles on the faces of my adopted family anymore.”
“I guess my old recipes are too high in calories and take too much time to make. And also Mary, the young housewife that bought me so many many years ago, is now a Grandma, and I just don’t contain those popular “kooking for kid’s” recipes that are so popular today.
My spine is weak and I’ve got stains all over my pages…and admittedly there are a few tears and some “foxing” too.”
“In fact page 51 is completely missing but I’m sure that modern cooks aren’t too interested in larding gamebirds.”
“Actually, the last time someone pulled me out of the bookcase, the iPad wasn’t even invented yet!”
“Wait…who is that with you? He looks very intelligent and he seems to be looking at every one of my pages. What’s that he’s saying?”
“Yes Mrs. Jenkins I believe you have one of the rarest cookbooks in existence…and luckily, back there in the corner of the bookcase is page 51. With some restoration I think it will make a very important addition to the National Cookbook Museum.”

“So now…I’m completely restored and I feel young again. I have my own stand and spotlight and many interested folks are smiling and remembering when my recipes were being made.”
“Mary even came by to say “Hi” and brought her friends to see me.
If you ever need to know how to prepare Beef Wellington, look me up!”

“Trixie” is a brown and white spaniel and she had five of the cutest little brown and white puppies that you ever did see…and then the most unusual thing EVER, happened. Trixie’s sixth and last puppy was…get ready for this…a female pink and purple polka dot puppy!
It was as hard to believe as it was to say. Just try saying “Pink and Purple Polka Dot Puppy” and you’ll see what I mean.
Well, Trixie loved her multicolored and polka dotted spotted puppy just as much as all the others but “Dottie”, as Trixie’s owners named her, did cause a great amount of attention.
In fact, Dottie attracted so much attention that soon the newspapers and TV stations were coming to Trixie’s house and wanting to photograph and make videos of the strange colored and spotted puppy.
Dottie was famous all over the city and even one national news team came to see her and Trixie and featured the amazing story on the Evening News.
Soon, Dottie was getting old enough to notice how different she was, and a single goal became her most frequent thought. “I want to be just like all of my brothers and sisters and just like Mommy.”
Trixie’s owners Marge and Herbert Smith tried fitting a brown and white doggie sweater on Dottie but those pink purple polka legs and head just looked even more…well…pink and purple and polka’d!
But as Dottie became six months old and all of her brothers and sisters had been adopted to very good and happy homes she decided to accept that she was different and maybe the only Pink/purple/polka puppy in the whole world.
Mr. and Mrs. Smith took Trixie and Dottie to dog shows all over the country and Dottie always won “Most Unusual Puppy” ribbons and after winning that catagory at seven straight shows, a national toy company made a best selling stuffed toy puppy that was the exact size and colors and pattern of Dottie and she quickly became world famous!
Dottie even had her own reality show each week on a cable channel and hundreds of thousands of people(and presumably dogs too)watched every week and even wrote fan mail to her.
Dottie was giving “Pawtographs” to admirers but she didn’t like dipping her left paw into pink ink and her right paw into purple ink and then pressing them both on the paper so it looked like…you guessed it…pink and purple polka dots. Plus the ink stayed on for a long time and needed to be scrubbed off.
But Dottie wasn’t truly happy.
Even though she had all the fame of a National celebrity there was a deep feeling inside of her that just wanted to be…well…normal.
The Smith’s were making so much money on Dottie’s notoriety that they built her a new two story dog house (Pinky purply and polka dotted of course)and it was the only one like it in the whole world.
That is until the toy company that made the Dottie Stuffed Dogs started selling replicas of the unique dog house which became more popular that the Barbie Playhouse!
Well…my story is getting rather long now so I’ll just skip to the part where Dottie is a fully grown mature dog and tell you about something that I bet you won’t believe.
Of course, if you believe everything about Dottie so far, you just might believe this too.
There was a National Kennel Club Dog Show at a very large northern city and the producers of the show were flying Dottie and the Smith’s in so that the world famous dog could make a personal appearance.
When the spotlight finally went off of her and Dottie’s sight was returning to normal …THERE HE WAS…standing right in front of her… the handsomest spaniel she’d ever seen. He was smiling at her and told her that his name was “Striper” and he had the most astounding green and yellow striped fur that she’d ever imagined.
And yes…of course…they both knew that they were meant for each other and also of course…they lived happily ever after.

“Pssst….ah….excuse me….yeah you…the reader….listen he just left, but he’ll be back soon so I have to make this quick!”
“What….who am I?” “Oh yes excuse my manners….I’m one of his recurring characters…he puts me in some of his short stories…and I was even in a poem or two of his. But anyway, lately he’s been a bit disappointed with the response to his web sites. He CAN be a pain occasionally, but all in all he’s been pretty good to me as my author. I mean he doesn’t make me look TOO stupid, and I do get a few chuckles now and then. I must admit though OCCASIONALLY I DO wish that he were a better writer. I think I’d have more of a following, maybe even a fan club, although with him I gave up on that a LONG time ago.”
“W…A…I…T….!!!….whew…he almost caught me talking to you. Luckily he forgot something and left again. He wouldn’t like me going over his head directly to you the reader….he is definitely the only AUTHOR….in this household.”
“What I’m really asking is that if you could try to act as though he were a bit better at his writing craft then he is….believe me it would make life much easier for me, and the rest of those characters of his.”
“Oh….here he comes again….thanks in advance for anything you can…….”
“Ah what Russ…..no I was just ah….thinking out loud!”

He was the last puppy in the litter. The one that nobody seemed to want.
He had the same big eyes as all of his brothers and sisters and his fur was just as solid black as all the others…but…he WAS much smaller, and thinner and he had to admit…weaker than his siblings. Yes…he was the “runt” of the litter.
It seemed that no one would ever want to adopt Runty and his human family had even stopped advertising and had taken down the sign that offered “Genuine Scottie Puppies!” from their front window.
Then one rainy morning a knock on the door was to change Runty’s life forever.
“Hello…I’m Mrs. Wilson. My son Todd has been very sick for a long time and our family decided that a new puppy might help him to feel better. Do you still have any puppies left?”
“Well…there’s just one…but I’m afraid it’s the runt of the litter…in fact we named him “Runty”.
“Ohhh…” Mrs. Wilson exclaimed as Runty had run to the door and was jumping up and down around her feet.
“My…he’s lively….and he’s REALLY cute isn’t he?” Mrs. Wilson bent down and patted Runty on his head.
“Would you like to come home with me…ah….Runty?”
Runty let out a short sharp bark and began licking Mrs. Wilson’s hand.
So Runty was adopted and went home with Mrs. Wilson where he met for the first time…little Jimmy Wilson.
Jimmy was in his sick bed but leaned down and helped Runty jump up onto the covers. Jimmy smiled and petted Runty and the Scottie rolled over and nuzzled the boy’s hand and licked his fingers.
Then Jimmy sat up and placed the pillows behind his back and Runty climbed into the boy’s lap. It was the first time that the boy had sat up in bed in more than a week. Jimmy’s Mom stood in the bedroom doorway and smiled wider than she had in a very long time.
As the weeks passed Jimmy grew healthier and Runty grew bigger and stronger too. It wasn’t long before they were going for walks around the neighborhood and soon Jimmy was well enough to resume attending Parks Middle School.
Two months later Jimmy’s school held a dog show. Jimmy brushed and trimmed Runty’s fur and taught him how to “heel” which is when Runty walks along at the same speed as Jimmy staying exactly at the boy’s heel.
Well…Runty won “Best in Show” and sported a bright blue and gold ribbon on his collar!
Oh…and just for the record…Two of Runty’s siblings were in the show too but it was Runty that everyone voted for.

I shouldn’t be telling you this stuff. I mean I could really get into a lot of trouble with other mutts in the canine club, but I’ve always liked humans…well most of ’em.
Being a dog, and when I say dog I mean a REAL dog, not one of those so called “purebreds” as they like to be referred to. Life is not really too bad…IF you’ve got the right “owner” (hate that term) Now I personally prefer table scraps but my…ah…family feeds me dry food and an occasional dog bone. I get petted a lot but not NEARLY as often as when I was a puppy, and I get outside almost too much. Hey, I’m not a big fan of cold weather either!
We dogs understand humans lots better than humans understand us. Of course the intent of this story here is to close the gap between us a bit.
We can smell better than you can, although that sometimes is a major drawback believe me!  And we can hear lots better too. By the way if you know which misguided human invented the dog whistle let me know. Some of my friends would be interested in “meeting” them too!
And also by the way, those electronic fences!!! Another not well thought out idea by dogdom standards. Not only do we have to learn how the stupid thing works the HARD way…but all those leashless mean dogs can walk right through and get at us. It isn’t fair…and it HURTS!
Oh I know….I know it sounds like we dogs don’t appreciate our humans but that really isn’t true. We’re not called “Man’s Best Friend” for nothin’.
We LOVE fetching sticks, well most of us do, some dogs are just grumpy. And we don’t mind getting slippers and bringing them to our human, although sometimes it IS tempting to just chew and rip ’em around pretending that they are freshly caught game.
But try to understand…we DO have instincts and were once wild animals that had to hunt and stuff before we were “domesticated.”
Let’s just enjoy each other’s company and dogs and humans will get along just great. By the way…please support your local SPCA.