(Friends: today marks the launch for the sale of my forthcoming book, The Bonnie and Clyde Files: How Two Senior Saved a Middle Aged Man. Only 300 copies will be sold and it won’t be available in book stores. For more information and how to order, got to nestuccaspitpress.com or order here from the blog. Half of the profits are earmarked for the Angels for Sara Sanctuary to continue their excellent work. Please support me in this new editorial endeavor as I get back in the game of life, literature and service. Enjoy an excerpt from the book below:)
I parked my car in the parking lot of the Angels for Sara Sanctuary and got out. I heard a cacophony of barking coming from inside the house. A fit woman in her sixties appeared and introduced herself as Jacque. We shook hands and I introduced myself. I either looked invisible or a hundred years old. I handed over my volunteer form and she led me to the front door. The cacophony increased; the house shook. I entered the house and beheld dogs barking and prancing and singing. On the wall, a large flatscreen monitor played dog cartoons. Jacque gave me a tour of the house and I noticed multiple gates and partitions to sequester dogs for eating, sleeping, medical issues and hanging out. It wasn’t for everyone, perhaps not even me, but I smiled because I had met someone that it was for, and that she should be President of the United States of America.
Jacque sat in a recliner and I sat on a couch. Four or five small dogs jumped up on the arms and back of the couch. Another sat beside me. She introduced them. The two largest dogs, one black, a retriever mix, the other tan, a shepherd mix, came over and sat up in front of me. I met Bonnie and Clyde.
It felt like an interview, but not from a human resources department.
For the first time in my life, I sensed I was receiving a telepathic message, from one of the dogs surrounding me. I couldn’t discern which one, nor divine the message. I tried sending a telepathic message to the unknown dog. It was sort of like a First Contact from Star Trek. Nothing returned to me.
“How can I help you?” I said to Jacque.
“It would be great if you could come over and walk Bonnie and Clyde,” she said. “The house is a lot calmer if they get some exercise, relax, and don’t run over the smaller dogs.”
“That sounds great,” I said. “When do I start?”
“How about right now?”
“Sure.”
We went outside into the fenced back yard. Bonnie and Clyde followed. I saw the river, trees, blackberries, birds, pastures, hills, cattle, clearcuts.
A light rain began to fall. Neither one of us mentioned it. Jacque opened the gate and ushered Bonnie and Clyde out. I followed.
Jacque led us along until the trail sloped down the bank and met the river. We stopped there and Bonnie and Clyde walked into the water and started drinking. I surveyed with all my senses.
I didn’t say anything. I no longer recall how long I surveyed. It might have been five or ten minutes.
Jacque broke the spell. She said this spot was as far as Bonnie and Clyde should go. I was fine with that. This was good ground, I thought. A squad could make a formidable stand against an overpowering enemy here. Perhaps one man against an invisible enemy could, too. I also thought: this might be an interesting place to write. I’d never written near a river before. What would I write? Who am I? Do I even exist?
