Monthly Archives: May 2013

And then I bit him…

So begins the writing prompt on the site of write to done. This is an excellent place for showcasing your writing, and to get the creative juices flowing.

The link for this particular “scene-stealer” prompt is here. Go there and follow the rules in posting your piece. Have fun with it! As they say, ‘think out of the box.’ Please do read some of the postings as they are entertaining and vary tremendously.

And here is my contribution:

And then I bit him.

The reaction never varied. It was always the same, no matter the man.

Shock, disbelief, horror. It was comical. I could time it to the second.

Every man succumbed.

The late nights trolling the bars, wearing my kick-ass mid-thigh leather skirt and knee-high boots, a revealing top with plunging neckline, the outfit never failed.

And tonight was no exception.

I never tire of my game; the coquettish stare, the toss of long blonde locks, the slight open-mouthed pout, the fondling of my wine glass. The come hither look.

I can see it in their eyes. Always dilated, nostrils slightly flared, the shortness of breath.

He pays the tab, we exit the bar, he drives or walks me to his place, and then it happens.

I tell the man to get undressed and lie on his bed. I tell him to wait for me. I tell him I will just be a moment.

I linger in the bathroom, allowing the excitement and anticipation to build in his mind. Of what might come.

But what comes is not what he expects.

I come, slowly, out the bathroom door, slowly, and pad naked to the bed. I stand before him and stare into his eyes.

He reaches for me, but I admonish him: “Don’t touch.”

He lies back, aching, waiting for my hot sultry smooth skin.

I climb onto the bed and crawl towards him, watching his face, waiting for the moment.

I slowly straddle him and slowly lean across his body.

He’s tense, hard, agitated.

I let my locks caress his face, his chest, and I bend down to whisper hot breaths on his sweating skin.

It is exciting and erotic.

That is when I plunge my incisors into his carotid, and feel the hot sweet succulent smell of fresh blood as it erupts upon my lips.

I pull back and watch his face, watch as his life ebbs with every spurt of precious blood.

The reaction never varied. It was always the same, no matter the man.

Copyright, Paul Grignon, 2013, All Rights Reserved.

ALSO: Don’t miss Eric Alagan’s Gallery of Writing at his superb site Written Words Never Die. Here is the link to it. Eric always enjoys your contributions and comments, and his site is one not to be missed!


Dog Daze of Spring, Part 3…

Anxious Andi

Anxious Andi

Imagine this; I have not been a dog person for most of my life, and yet here I am, still marveling at our latest family edition. Andi is getting better when I leave the room, but in the beginning he always needed eye contact.

I guess that’s why whenever I had to use the loo, or go do the dishes, he’d either follow me or sit and howl his hound sound at the ceiling. It’s a form of separation-anxiety for poor ol’ Andi. Well, not old, really. He’s pegged at 3 ½ months, so he has a few years left in him.

Since we’ve had Andi for over two weeks now, he does appear much bigger and stronger and relaxed than when we picked him. And remembering that very first day, when we went to surprise our son, Jace, at his Dad’s house with a puppy,  Jace’s look was priceless.

Jace Meets Andi

Jace Meets Andi

That was a great moment and memory. We called Jace out of his bedroom, managing to pry him from his precious video games. He came out, clearly bothered by the interruption.

Julie had hidden behind the house. Jace sighed, came down the stairs and turned the corner. He saw Mom with a dog and asked, “Who’s dog is that?” And Julie replied, “It’s yours, honey. An early birthday present!”

Our son’s eyes filled with wonder and excitement, and I bet he could not really believe it to be true. But there Andi was, in Julie’s arms, waiting for Jace’s first touch.

That night, Andi slept soundly with Jace without incident. Already Andi seems to have a remarkable disposition.

A More Relaxed Andi.

A More Relaxed Andi.

As for me? Well, I suppose my disposition has been altered as well. Pup-sitting, sitting on the couch, and writing questionable prose with Andi close and fast asleep.

I guess a person can be a cat lover and a dog lover. At least, I seem to be leaning that way.

Imagine that.

to be continued…

©Paul Grignon, 2013, All Rights Reserved.

Chiron…No, Jerry….No, Andi!

Before bath...

Before bath…

We left the naming of our puppy to Jace, our 11 year old son, who is now the proud owner of this brand new member in our lives.

The puppy came from Virginia, most likely from one of the Puppy Mills that flourish there, and when he arrived at the Sterling Animal Shelter, his name was Chiron.

But he certainly didn’t look like a centaur, although he did possess much intelligence and kindness, despite being held in chains down south. Can you believe that? That he, along with his two equally adorable brothers, were kept in chains? It’s no wonder every time we take a trip in the car, Andi trembles. We think he thinks we are returning him to the shelter or worse, down south again and more shackles.

Can you imagine putting this puppy in chains?

...After bath, in the arms of My Lovely Julie.

…After bath, in the arms of My Lovely Julie.

So the name Chiron had to go. Not a very mellifluous name at all, and rather harsh sounding on the palate.

Jace came up with Jerry, so when he went off to school that first day, I was at home all day with the puppy. During the day, I played with him, constantly calling him ‘Jerry’, trying to get him used to his new name. I must have said his name 100 times or more.

Come the end of the school day, Jace returns and promptly says, “I think I want to call him Andi. With and i at the end.” Needless to say I was slightly taken aback by this, and so was Jerry. Now he was to be called ‘Andi’. And I do believe it has a better ring to it.

Andi and his toys. (spoiled to no end...)

Andi and his toys.
(spoiled to no end…)

So now, for the most part, Andi answers to Andi. Most of the time. He can be a tad stubborn at times, especially when it’s feeding time and he has to go into his ‘room’, which is actually the crate. Reluctantly he will enter it, but soon realize  we are not punishing him nor transporting him to another location. It’s his safe place, where a warm fuzzy blanket awaits him, and food and water. Okay, an occasional snack as well. I did mention that he is spoiled.

Slowly but surely I am getting accustomed to Andi’s many nuances, and getting used to life with a dog.

Who knew such a thing was possible?

Andi curled next to me.

Andi curled up next to me as I feverishly type nonsense. (I think he likes me.)

Copyright, Paul Grignon, 2013, All Rights Reserved.

Dog Daze of Spring, Part 2…

"Hi! I'm Andi."

“Hi! I’m Andi.”

I sit on the floor, and look down into the doe eyes of Andi. It is a vastly different perspective from my previous  world of only cats.

A cat. Now there’s an easy animal to train. A little kitty, bring him home, set up a litter box, bowl of food and water, done. Set for life. The kitty will know to poop in the box, and has free reign of your house. No worries. Except perhaps a pilled chair or a furball now and then.

But a puppy. Hmm, slightly different, I am finding out.

We are crate training Andi, so that has been a challenge. But last night went well. He slept the entire night without having to go outside. A good start. But way too soon to give him free reign. I’ll give you an example.

I made a foolish mistake the other night. Andi woke up at 2:30 in the morning, so I took him out to pee. When I let him in, I told him to go to ‘Andi’s room’, what I call his crate. He usual does. But as I rounded the corner to the living room, there he was, curled up on the couch, staring at me with pleading eyes: “Please! Please let me sleep with you!” those eyes said.

"Oh, please! Can I...?"

“Oh, please! Can I…?”

How could I resist such magnificent beseeching eyes? So I did.

Well, come the morn’, I woke up and had to use the loo. I looked down at Andi, and he was fast asleep. I thought, ‘I should take him out first.’ But I didn’t.

When I returned, he was in the middle of the room, peeing on the rug. Aargh!

Holding back the urge to admonish him, I gently coaxed him into the cage, and cleaned up the puddle. I learned my lesson.

And our cats are slowly learning about this new creature in their midst, even boldly venturing near the crate. But I believe it will be awhile before they become best of friends. At least the cats are making the effort to introduce themselves. (Or maybe they’re just sizing him up and plotting Andi’s demise…)

'What is that creature in there?'

‘What is that creature in there?’

Miles plotting.

Miles plotting.

It has been six days since we adopted Andi and things are going much better. Right now as I type this he is wrapped around my back, pressed close to me and snoring away. I am barely perched on the couch, a mere few inches on the edge. Andi cannot get close enough it seems.

I look down into his eyes once again, and my mind returns to cats. Yeah, sometimes cats do what Andi is doing right now. But for the most part, what I love about felines, is their independence.

Some days, when you want your cats on your lap, you call them over to you: “Hi guys! C’mon, come here! Come sit on my lap!” The cats slowly turn their heads toward you and think, ‘Yeah, right. In your dreams’ and then they turn away, irritated that you bothered their precious nap time.

'We don't think so.'

‘We don’t think so.’

But a dog. After the same command, he couldn’t get there fast enough. Unless, of course, you have a leash in your hand, and you’re going to take him out in the rain again to see if he’ll pee or potty. Then, he’ll hesitate, and suspiciously eye your ulterior motive.

At this juncture, Andi will usually dart into his ‘room’ and curl up, still looking at me with those big, wary, brown eyes. Ah, so much to learn.

to be continued…

Our son and Andi.

Our son and Andi (with pilled chair).

©Paul Grignon, 2013, All Rights Reserved.

Dog Daze of Spring, Part 1…

I have never been a dog person. Ever. And yet…

With the passage of five decades (plus)–many years come and gone–this month of May, in the year 2013, I have become…a dog owner.

I cannot believe it.  Me! With a puppy.

Well, the puppy is actually for our dear 11 year old son, an early birthday present. (His birthday’s in June.)

My Beloved and I ventured to this extraordinary place, filled with extraordinary, caring people, and there did we experience a most delightful time among humans and canines alike.

The place is called the Sterling Animal Shelter, in Sterling, MA. The folk there were incredibly kind, knowledgeable, gentle, and just plain nice. They have a no-kill policy, which is great, and the love and concern they exhibit is palpable. We highly recommend this place to everyone.

Initially, this outing was only to be a ‘look-see.’ That was the intention at least. But have you ever been to a shelter that had so many beautiful and loving dogs?

This, coming from me, a bona fide, 100%, pure-bred cat lover. I love cats!

Always have. As for a dog? Never. I used to say, “I just don’t cotton to canines.” Did I happen to mention this sentiment had been etched in granite for over five decades? But on that note…

Meet Andi


First Contact

Could you resist such loving eyes and wrinkly skin? Andi’s part Sharp Pei, Shepherd, and Hound, with a little Lab thrown in for good measure. As a woman at the shelter said, “All dogs are part Lab. It’s the oldest dog in the world.”

Now, I can’t vouch to the veracity of such a statement, but it certainly appears  Andi possesses a glimmer of that lovely dog.

Andi the Puppy

Our Puppy Andi

Did I mention that he’s cute as hell?

And here’s another shot of him, the latest member to our family.


Takin’ A Break

We adopted him and brought him home, uncertain of the reactions of our three cats to this four-legged interloper. As you can see by the Before and After photos, it didn’t fare too well.





But now, as I puppy-sit in the living room, I manage to write this out long-hand, sprawled on the ground near Andi. He does not like to leave my side.

to be continued…

A Tired Boy.

A Tired Boy.

Copyright, Paul Grignon, 2013, All Rights Reserved.


Addendum to the Money Madness…

Here’s a quick link to Alternet’s article on how blue-collar Americans are getting royally siphoned by the wealthy. It ties in nicely to the haiku prompt by Eric Alagan here at Written Words Never Die.

The article is quite enlightening to say the least.

Spread the word…

The Art of Compression…



It’s really nothing to sneeze at. Haiku is a demanding form of poetry, condensing a limited amount of words into a meaningful message or a telling tale.

Eric Alagan presents yet another haiku challenge, at his superbly witty and entertaining site Written Words Never Die.

His latest delves into the spoils stolen by the big banks, where the high and mighty get away with plundering untold trillions from the pockets of blue collar workers and the destitute, yet suffer no consequences. In fact, their wealth has only sky-rocketed since the debacle of 2008.

The bail-out has turned into a bail-in for the banks, where bales of cash have flowed back into their already bulging coffers.

I could not resist adding my own haiku to something so important. As Eric poignantly states “…Let us not lull ourselves into complacency.”

The common blue-collar folk must remain diligent in keeping the message alive, steadfast  in never  allowing the banks to steal with such impudence and impunity.

Please do go to Eric’s site and add your two cents worth. While you still have it.

Here’s my angle on it:

Fed-Up Reserves

Banksters bask in cash

Funds stashed in off-shore accounts

Pilfered from the poor.

Copyright, Paul Grignon, 2013 – All Rights Reserved. (For now at least.)