( I wrote this a few monhs back. Get it or don't, it's up to you. It's a storyof a puppy dog who had to grow up fast.)
TWENTY NEEDLES
I think I was about 3 months old when John first took me to the vet office. I had always liked to ride in the car, but somehow I knew this trip was going to be different. And it was.
I fought hard as he drug me into that veteranarian office.There were lots of dogs, cats, and other creatures. It smelled funny. It was loud. I was afraid. Surely John would protect me.
Before I knew it a needle pierced my left butt cheek. It hurt and I tried to yell. OUCH!! Another got me in the other cheek. I knew right then and there I hated needles, I knew I didn't like cars, and I was begining to wonder about this guy John. I thought we were pals!
Even after that traumatic experience as a puppy, my life was good. John was a good master. He would go to work and I would spend my timeon the porch waiting for him to return. Sometimes it seemeed like he would never return. But, I frolicked in the yard, just being a dog. I knew he loved me. I was happy. He always returned.
As I grew older, I realized I could dig. John had no idea that I had dug that hole under the back corner of the fence. So, while he was working, I was exploring.
Mrs. McCafferty was the old woman who lived accross the street. Each afternoon she would put something in a dish on her porch. Everytime she did this, she would look in my direction and raise her broom in the air. Her mouth moved, but, I couldn't hear her words. Surely this was an nviation for me to come over and help myself. I knew I was suppose to stay in my own yard and wait for John, but the smell of that wonderful food was just too much! I snuck under the fence and escaped trough the hole I had so brilliantly dug. I headed accross the street to Mrs McCaffertys'. Her gate was open. No doubt it was left that way so I could enter at will. There it was on the porch. That special food. YUM! YUM! Boy, it sure was special!
Old Lady McCafferty sure was nice to ME!
Over the next couple of weeks, John would go to work, and I, would wait patiently for Mrs. McCaffert to come onto her porch, put those wonderful morsels in the dish, raise her broom, and give me the sign!! I would call through my secret "hole" and head across the street.
John always said she was an "old hag". But she was always nice to me, that Mrs. McCafferty, I always wondered what I could give her in return.
Don't get me wrong. John always fed me good, but, her treats were the best a dog could ever ask for, and she did it for me everyday. John had no idea about her, she wasn't an "old hag", nor a "witch". She was my best friend! Even though she never gave me an ear skrittchie or rubbed my belly. In fact, I had never actually seen her in person. She was always back in her house by the time I got to the porch. Sometimes I think I seen her in the window with that broom. Even through the window, she welcomed me.
One afternoon, bored, as usual, I waited for Mrs. McCafferty. Yep, here she was, the broom was raised, my sign had been delivered. I headed over.
This time was different!
When I got to the porch, there was a black cat waiting right next to my treat dish. I had never seen a cat before, except that time John took me to the vet. I don't know why, but, I don't think the cat liked me. But, I thought to myself, "what a nice lady, this Mrs. McCaffert she feeds the cats too!"
I approached this cat to introduce myself. Its back went up, the ears became erect, and a terrible hiss came from its mouth.! Its piercing green eyes tore into my soul! I knew I was in trouble! Big trouble. Maybe Mrs.McCafferty had found a new friend and I had better leave.
I turned to go back down the stairs and in an instant, that insane cat was on my face! I hit the porch and closed my eyes, as twenty needles dug deep into my nose! This was the worse day in my life, even worse than that puppy doctor time. Where was John? I hoped he would come rescueme. I knew he was at work. I had to go. I opened my eyes.
There she was, Mrs.McCafferty. Surely she was going to save me from the menace of this possed cat!
BAMM!!! Her broom hit me square on the ass. The cat jumped over the railing and I ran a fast as I could down the stairs, across the street to my secret hole, and the sancuary of my own yard. My nose felt like it was on fire and it itched bad too! Plus, my ass kida hurt,I sneezed and cried all the way home with my tail tucked deep underneath me. What had I done to deserve this misey?
When I was home safe I looked over. There she was, with her broom. Did she really want me to come back over? Maybe she IS crazy.
I was okay after a day or so, and John was none the wiser. But I sure was.
I mostly stay on the porch now and wait for John to come home from work. Sometimes I will bark at the mailman, and even the occsional kid on his bike.
I still don't like needles or cars, and I am 100% sure I dont like cats either! Maybe some little old ladies are okay, but I will never again trust a cat!!!
A white car came over by Mrs. McCafferty a few weeks ago. It had a flashing light on top and made a really bad noise that hurt my ears.
Ever since then Mrs. McCafferty didn't come on the porch anymore, and I didn't see the cat either, not that I really cared about that vicious black mongrel, but I did miss the little old lady. She seemed nice. I wonder where she went. I hope is was someplace she likes, I hope she didn't have to take that damn cat with her!
I always hoped that she and that evil cat know I meant no harm that day, I had only misunderstood.
THE MORAL OF THE STORY:
Stay in your own yard;
Don't mess with little old ladies;
and, no matter what , DO NOT mess with a cat, or its food!
To describe Pilot Bread is easy. It could be said it is likened to a "salt-less" Saltine cracker or a flat dry biscut. It is hard, crunchy and bland, but at the same time, is nowhere near tasteless. 
The uses for these crackers are as endless as your imagination. Many a person has sat next to the oil lamp in there little cabin deep in the woods and thought of countless ways to use these round delights. Unfortunately, unless you visit our Great State, you will probably never be able to say you have ever tried one. As a matter of fact, I don't know anyone here who has never heard of these, and far fewer who have never tried them.
