Danny Mac's Blog, page 13
June 2, 2023
My Dog is a Karen – Ginger’s Rant
Happy Friday Everyone,
Our dog of ten years old has begun to show her age. This sweet overly energetic pup has had the years piled on top of each other, and now her nature now exudes grumpy, entitled, and demanding. With this in mind, I agreed to write her karen complaints for you in the June issue, her story:
Confusion has taken over the old man called Dad. This past week he asked me, “Who put the bee in your bonnet?”
First of all, I don’t wear a bonnet. I sport a fashionable bandana to bring out the natural beauty of my red coat of royalty and superiority. He is so dumb; he can’t tell the difference between a bonnet and a bandana. Then he totally forgot in his ancient age that I eat bees for a snack. Where flies make good raisins, bees make an excellent spicy snack with a sting to it.
His biggest omission in common sense occurred last week when Mom was out weeding. Naturally, I helped her by offering a helping paw and chasing the bees away. Mom said there were no bees but that only shows how good of a dog I am.
My biggest reason for insisting upon helping wasn’t my glorious supervision ability, but my eye for danger in the neighborhood. Being the ultimate watchdog, I kept a vigil for any dangers entering our surroundings. All was quiet until the most malicious of evils beeped into the neighbor's drive in the form of a large brown truck.
Any guard dog worth their salt knows these trucks are the worse bringing unknown boxes of revolting disgust known to the dog world. I give a warning bark to scare the intruder away and the truck stopped backing up. Another howl of my fierce aggression to protect my mother, and dad exits the house to force me against my will back into the house. This pitiful, unassuming, and ignorant excuse for a man has the nerve to yell at me for doing his job of protecting my family from the unspecified horrors of the brown truck.
Subscribe for alerts at my website and receive notices of my blogs, book updates, and other happenings. I received chapters 1 -11 from the editor this week and tweaked the corrections for The Devil’s Dragon due for publishing this summer. I am expecting the rest of the story sometime this week.
Additional note: some hours after writing the first draft for this week, we took Ginger to the vet for a swollen face. Apparently, one of her spicy snacks really did sting her back. She was okay Thursday evening as I went through a second time.
God bless,
Danny Mac
Our dog of ten years old has begun to show her age. This sweet overly energetic pup has had the years piled on top of each other, and now her nature now exudes grumpy, entitled, and demanding. With this in mind, I agreed to write her karen complaints for you in the June issue, her story:
Confusion has taken over the old man called Dad. This past week he asked me, “Who put the bee in your bonnet?”
First of all, I don’t wear a bonnet. I sport a fashionable bandana to bring out the natural beauty of my red coat of royalty and superiority. He is so dumb; he can’t tell the difference between a bonnet and a bandana. Then he totally forgot in his ancient age that I eat bees for a snack. Where flies make good raisins, bees make an excellent spicy snack with a sting to it.
His biggest omission in common sense occurred last week when Mom was out weeding. Naturally, I helped her by offering a helping paw and chasing the bees away. Mom said there were no bees but that only shows how good of a dog I am.
My biggest reason for insisting upon helping wasn’t my glorious supervision ability, but my eye for danger in the neighborhood. Being the ultimate watchdog, I kept a vigil for any dangers entering our surroundings. All was quiet until the most malicious of evils beeped into the neighbor's drive in the form of a large brown truck.
Any guard dog worth their salt knows these trucks are the worse bringing unknown boxes of revolting disgust known to the dog world. I give a warning bark to scare the intruder away and the truck stopped backing up. Another howl of my fierce aggression to protect my mother, and dad exits the house to force me against my will back into the house. This pitiful, unassuming, and ignorant excuse for a man has the nerve to yell at me for doing his job of protecting my family from the unspecified horrors of the brown truck.
Subscribe for alerts at my website and receive notices of my blogs, book updates, and other happenings. I received chapters 1 -11 from the editor this week and tweaked the corrections for The Devil’s Dragon due for publishing this summer. I am expecting the rest of the story sometime this week.
Additional note: some hours after writing the first draft for this week, we took Ginger to the vet for a swollen face. Apparently, one of her spicy snacks really did sting her back. She was okay Thursday evening as I went through a second time.
God bless,
Danny Mac
May 26, 2023
My Dog is a Karen – In Trouble Again
Happy Friday Everyone,
Well, Ginger played one of her old tricks today. It’s called Ding-Dong Ditch karen style. Ginger banged on her door to come in the house. I crawled out of my chair and lumbered to the door. With the squeal of the old hinges the door opened in time to see her run away from the house to check something else to do. “Really,” I exacerbated.
In return, Ginger gave me the “pity the fool,” look to her peon peasant serving her every need.
I received the cold furry shoulder on Tuesday and it was not my fault. Mom and sister took to gardening just after lunch. Mom refused to let Ginger onto the porch because the faux wood deck became excessively hot in the high summer sun and it gets too hot for her tender little paws. Ginger stood at the screen moaning her complaints to me working on book number six.
It started as a soft grumble then intensified into loud groans of displeasure. “Mom said no,” was my objection, which was met by a side-eye curse as if to call me lazy and worthless. Then long sorrowful moans from the pain of being locked inside with grumpy old dad. Her cries of loneliness went unheard by the women working in the garden as the pitiful whimpers affected my writing.
“I can let you out on your leash,” I encouraged her in that direction. However, our resident karen had her heart set on the deck and any alternative was an insult to her and her self-appointed status in the house. The rest of the day I asked, “How are you doing,” or “Do you want a butt scratching?” It was met with her walking away still complaining of me not letting her out to supervise from the vantage point of the deck.
At bedtime, “Goodnight Ginger,” in an attempt to make up with her is met with, “mmmrrrrnnnn” in a low slow tone showing no forgiveness.
So when my sixth book comes out, don’t be surprised that chapter twenty seems darker than the rest of my writing since I endured grunts of disparagement at me, my writing, and my lowly status beneath Queen Ginger.
I finished reviewing the edits on Sunday and sent book 5, The Devil’s Dragon, back to the editor to find the last of those pesky grammar errors. It is due back in early June and then comes the process of designing a cover.
Subscribe for alerts at my website and receive notices of my blogs, book updates, and other happenings.
God bless,
Danny Mac
Well, Ginger played one of her old tricks today. It’s called Ding-Dong Ditch karen style. Ginger banged on her door to come in the house. I crawled out of my chair and lumbered to the door. With the squeal of the old hinges the door opened in time to see her run away from the house to check something else to do. “Really,” I exacerbated.
In return, Ginger gave me the “pity the fool,” look to her peon peasant serving her every need.
I received the cold furry shoulder on Tuesday and it was not my fault. Mom and sister took to gardening just after lunch. Mom refused to let Ginger onto the porch because the faux wood deck became excessively hot in the high summer sun and it gets too hot for her tender little paws. Ginger stood at the screen moaning her complaints to me working on book number six.
It started as a soft grumble then intensified into loud groans of displeasure. “Mom said no,” was my objection, which was met by a side-eye curse as if to call me lazy and worthless. Then long sorrowful moans from the pain of being locked inside with grumpy old dad. Her cries of loneliness went unheard by the women working in the garden as the pitiful whimpers affected my writing.
“I can let you out on your leash,” I encouraged her in that direction. However, our resident karen had her heart set on the deck and any alternative was an insult to her and her self-appointed status in the house. The rest of the day I asked, “How are you doing,” or “Do you want a butt scratching?” It was met with her walking away still complaining of me not letting her out to supervise from the vantage point of the deck.
At bedtime, “Goodnight Ginger,” in an attempt to make up with her is met with, “mmmrrrrnnnn” in a low slow tone showing no forgiveness.
So when my sixth book comes out, don’t be surprised that chapter twenty seems darker than the rest of my writing since I endured grunts of disparagement at me, my writing, and my lowly status beneath Queen Ginger.
I finished reviewing the edits on Sunday and sent book 5, The Devil’s Dragon, back to the editor to find the last of those pesky grammar errors. It is due back in early June and then comes the process of designing a cover.
Subscribe for alerts at my website and receive notices of my blogs, book updates, and other happenings.
God bless,
Danny Mac
May 19, 2023
My Dog is a Karen – Ginger’s Dilemma
Happy Friday Everyone,
This spring brings a very promising future for our dog Ginger, the family karen. New neighbors moved in last December. Where the old neighbors spent only limited time outside our new neighbors are frequently enjoying their yard, especially since warm temperatures sprang forth. They offer a multitude of opportunities for Ginger to go all karen on them every day.
On Sunday, she spotted the dogs down the street from our bedroom window. With great anticipation, she rings the bell to exit the house. Even before leaving the house her hair starts rising on her back. I, not born yesterday, know to stay in the doorway and watch her.
Her leash stretches to the most southeastern point where she can see around a partial fence and from there the two dogs playing spiritedly capture her attention. However, the realization of me watching her from the door disturbs her karen rant.
She stares down at the dogs and then looks back at me. “Don’t do it,” comes sternly from the door. Another irritated glower at her despised foes with her hair rising again and then back to me standing humorlessly in the doorway. A good look at me tells her not to bark or her trips outside ends abruptly.
Seeing me not moving yet, she glares down two houses for the update on her antagonists as her tail quivers in expectation of a fuming torrent of barking and howling. But wait, jerking her head back to see me unwavering at the door to halt her at the first yelp, she must wait for the proper moment in time. The anxiety of waiting impatiently causes her paws to dance in the freshly mowed grass as she peers one more time down the road.
She contains dancing and quivering until the engine from hell interrupts the moment as the neighbor slows to pull into her driveway. Ginger could hold her tongue for two dogs playing, but adding the neighbor having the audacity to arrive home at the same time, put her over the edge, “Aaaaarrrrrrrroooooo,” bursts forth like the levies giving away after a storm.
I strut out, grab her leash, and lead her back into the house. Of course, she stops three feet out, turns, and in one last karen word, “ARF,” in defiance of the intruding neighbor.
Subscribe for alerts at my website and receive notices of my blogs, book updates, and other happenings. I sent chapters 1 -11 to the editor this week and working on the corrections for the rest of The Devil’s Dragon due for publishing this summer.
God bless,
Danny Mac
This spring brings a very promising future for our dog Ginger, the family karen. New neighbors moved in last December. Where the old neighbors spent only limited time outside our new neighbors are frequently enjoying their yard, especially since warm temperatures sprang forth. They offer a multitude of opportunities for Ginger to go all karen on them every day.
On Sunday, she spotted the dogs down the street from our bedroom window. With great anticipation, she rings the bell to exit the house. Even before leaving the house her hair starts rising on her back. I, not born yesterday, know to stay in the doorway and watch her.
Her leash stretches to the most southeastern point where she can see around a partial fence and from there the two dogs playing spiritedly capture her attention. However, the realization of me watching her from the door disturbs her karen rant.
She stares down at the dogs and then looks back at me. “Don’t do it,” comes sternly from the door. Another irritated glower at her despised foes with her hair rising again and then back to me standing humorlessly in the doorway. A good look at me tells her not to bark or her trips outside ends abruptly.
Seeing me not moving yet, she glares down two houses for the update on her antagonists as her tail quivers in expectation of a fuming torrent of barking and howling. But wait, jerking her head back to see me unwavering at the door to halt her at the first yelp, she must wait for the proper moment in time. The anxiety of waiting impatiently causes her paws to dance in the freshly mowed grass as she peers one more time down the road.
She contains dancing and quivering until the engine from hell interrupts the moment as the neighbor slows to pull into her driveway. Ginger could hold her tongue for two dogs playing, but adding the neighbor having the audacity to arrive home at the same time, put her over the edge, “Aaaaarrrrrrrroooooo,” bursts forth like the levies giving away after a storm.
I strut out, grab her leash, and lead her back into the house. Of course, she stops three feet out, turns, and in one last karen word, “ARF,” in defiance of the intruding neighbor.
Subscribe for alerts at my website and receive notices of my blogs, book updates, and other happenings. I sent chapters 1 -11 to the editor this week and working on the corrections for the rest of The Devil’s Dragon due for publishing this summer.
God bless,
Danny Mac
May 12, 2023
My Dog is a Karen – Dad-joke Mishap
Happy Friday Everyone,
This past Wednesday, the sun broke out from a week of cloudy skies. The radiant warmth brought Mom out of her cocoon to weed the garden and prepare it for Mother’s Day flowers. With mom spending most of the day enjoying the spring sunshine, it made Ginger jealous and needy for her mom.
After a half hour of hearing the whines of complaints about being so lonely as Mom disappeared around the corner, I let Ginger out to be with Mom. I get an hour of uninterrupted writing completing my new epilog and a second review of the introduction and first chapter.
The bustle of lunch sees me leaving the writing to join in the tussle. Naturally, Ginger waits impatiently for anything to fall onto the floor and manages to get underfoot of everyone’s mealtime prep.
Listening to Reddit stories and finishing my lunch, a groan of contentment wafts through the house as Ginger settles into her bed for a much-needed afternoon nap. A few snores later, which Ginger denies coming from her, Mom and her two-leg sister exit to the backyard to work on the vegetable garden. A karen-like bang of the bell roars to me to let her out again.
Ginger catches only a few more Zs before I start preparing supper. Ginger earnestly believes this task cannot be accomplished without her authority and marches into the kitchen as the official supervisor. After dinner and cleaning up, I find myself passing through the bedroom to the bathroom. “Ginger is wore out,” comes matter-of-factly from my wife.
“Who wore the dog out,” sang out of my mouth to a nineties tune with a similar statement followed by a “Woof, woof.” My wife rolled her eyes as Ginger let out the most annoyed karen groan to date. Apparently, she didn’t like her rest disturbed by childish wit.
To be fair, it was a corny dad-joke created for the moment and my singing lacks any training or ability, but it wasn’t groan-worthy, was it?
I finished in the bathroom and left the way I came in past a soundly sleeping dog with just enough energy to groan one more moan of disgust at my attempted humor in her karen tone of disgust and disturbance.
Subscribe for alerts at my website and receive notices of my blogs, book updates, and other happens. I working on the second round of corrections from the editor for The Devil’s Dragon due for publishing this summer.
God bless,
Danny Mac
This past Wednesday, the sun broke out from a week of cloudy skies. The radiant warmth brought Mom out of her cocoon to weed the garden and prepare it for Mother’s Day flowers. With mom spending most of the day enjoying the spring sunshine, it made Ginger jealous and needy for her mom.
After a half hour of hearing the whines of complaints about being so lonely as Mom disappeared around the corner, I let Ginger out to be with Mom. I get an hour of uninterrupted writing completing my new epilog and a second review of the introduction and first chapter.
The bustle of lunch sees me leaving the writing to join in the tussle. Naturally, Ginger waits impatiently for anything to fall onto the floor and manages to get underfoot of everyone’s mealtime prep.
Listening to Reddit stories and finishing my lunch, a groan of contentment wafts through the house as Ginger settles into her bed for a much-needed afternoon nap. A few snores later, which Ginger denies coming from her, Mom and her two-leg sister exit to the backyard to work on the vegetable garden. A karen-like bang of the bell roars to me to let her out again.
Ginger catches only a few more Zs before I start preparing supper. Ginger earnestly believes this task cannot be accomplished without her authority and marches into the kitchen as the official supervisor. After dinner and cleaning up, I find myself passing through the bedroom to the bathroom. “Ginger is wore out,” comes matter-of-factly from my wife.
“Who wore the dog out,” sang out of my mouth to a nineties tune with a similar statement followed by a “Woof, woof.” My wife rolled her eyes as Ginger let out the most annoyed karen groan to date. Apparently, she didn’t like her rest disturbed by childish wit.
To be fair, it was a corny dad-joke created for the moment and my singing lacks any training or ability, but it wasn’t groan-worthy, was it?
I finished in the bathroom and left the way I came in past a soundly sleeping dog with just enough energy to groan one more moan of disgust at my attempted humor in her karen tone of disgust and disturbance.
Subscribe for alerts at my website and receive notices of my blogs, book updates, and other happens. I working on the second round of corrections from the editor for The Devil’s Dragon due for publishing this summer.
God bless,
Danny Mac
May 5, 2023
My Dog is a Karen – Complaints Abound
Happy Friday Everyone,
Our old dog is trying to change the rules to mom bringing her a banana treat every morning. So far, Mom has resisted the idea with a sing-song chant ba-na-na to entice her dog downstairs. I read the story to Ginger last week and sounding like Mark Twain, she karen-groans, lies, and damn lies! So, this week I offered to express her many complaints in her karen voice.
Dad gossips about me from his twisted point of view. His falsehoods cover inaccuracies to outright untruths. However, his unfairness accelerated to a new level in its treatment of me, the ever-faithful family protector, comforter, and head of the house. Let me spread the truth regarding his deceiving role in the house.
The other day, this tyrant of a man screams uncontrollably at me to get my “Fat Furry Butt” out of the kitchen. This is from a man who is one donut shy of playing the Stay Puft Marshmallow Boy. Here I am serving the family for ten years at the same weight as when I was a spry young puppy, and he has the nerve to call me fat.
During last week’s wind storm, the neighbor releases a box to attack us. This box creeps suddenly and incrementally towards our house. At times, it flies high into the air in preparation for a frontal assault against the house. My first response is to let out a warning yelp to caution my family in the house. Then I start my strategic scaring howls to keep the hideous instrument of destruction away from our yard.
Dad, in his infinite gullibility, comes out and laughs at my protective baying. “It’s a little box. Why are you carrying on like that?” as he grabs my leash and leads me back into the house. He doesn’t understand the power of devastation the box of that magnitude has in tearing down our house.
As spring brings more sunshine, Mom opens the blinds on the bedroom window. This allows me to survey the neighborhood with an elevated view to spot danger and potential crises effecting my family. The two shady dogs down the street pretending to play when they are really planning our demise are my main point of concern.
Occasionally, when their plans of torture become quite troubling, I will politely remind the people of my house of their threat by giving a cultured bark. Dad yells at me to stop and then closes the blinds and maneuvers the louvers to eliminate my sightline to the peril. He has no respect for my position in the house.
Subscribe for alerts at my website and receive notices of my blogs, book updates, and other happens. I finished the first round of corrections from the editor of The Devil’s Dragon due for publishing this summer.
God bless,
Danny Mac
Our old dog is trying to change the rules to mom bringing her a banana treat every morning. So far, Mom has resisted the idea with a sing-song chant ba-na-na to entice her dog downstairs. I read the story to Ginger last week and sounding like Mark Twain, she karen-groans, lies, and damn lies! So, this week I offered to express her many complaints in her karen voice.
Dad gossips about me from his twisted point of view. His falsehoods cover inaccuracies to outright untruths. However, his unfairness accelerated to a new level in its treatment of me, the ever-faithful family protector, comforter, and head of the house. Let me spread the truth regarding his deceiving role in the house.
The other day, this tyrant of a man screams uncontrollably at me to get my “Fat Furry Butt” out of the kitchen. This is from a man who is one donut shy of playing the Stay Puft Marshmallow Boy. Here I am serving the family for ten years at the same weight as when I was a spry young puppy, and he has the nerve to call me fat.
During last week’s wind storm, the neighbor releases a box to attack us. This box creeps suddenly and incrementally towards our house. At times, it flies high into the air in preparation for a frontal assault against the house. My first response is to let out a warning yelp to caution my family in the house. Then I start my strategic scaring howls to keep the hideous instrument of destruction away from our yard.
Dad, in his infinite gullibility, comes out and laughs at my protective baying. “It’s a little box. Why are you carrying on like that?” as he grabs my leash and leads me back into the house. He doesn’t understand the power of devastation the box of that magnitude has in tearing down our house.
As spring brings more sunshine, Mom opens the blinds on the bedroom window. This allows me to survey the neighborhood with an elevated view to spot danger and potential crises effecting my family. The two shady dogs down the street pretending to play when they are really planning our demise are my main point of concern.
Occasionally, when their plans of torture become quite troubling, I will politely remind the people of my house of their threat by giving a cultured bark. Dad yells at me to stop and then closes the blinds and maneuvers the louvers to eliminate my sightline to the peril. He has no respect for my position in the house.
Subscribe for alerts at my website and receive notices of my blogs, book updates, and other happens. I finished the first round of corrections from the editor of The Devil’s Dragon due for publishing this summer.
God bless,
Danny Mac
April 28, 2023
My Dog is a Karen – New Heights
Happy Friday Everyone,
So, I managed to get into a bit of hot water this week with my wife, which is hard to do given we have been married twenty-nine years. The Boss (my pet name for her) more than commented on my pants looking a little frayed and kindly suggested I buy new ones. The sun shined on Wednesday and the afternoon was free so I made a pilgrimage to the Outlet Mall.
My bride jumped at the chance to go shopping. My store of choice houses Lee and Wrangler, and it took five minutes to find the pants I like. It took another five minutes to pick out five pairs in my color and size. Then I went to checkout with my wife just getting warmed up for her shopping extravaganza. I reminded her I don’t shop, I buy.
As our dog, Ginger reaches ten years of age, her bones don’t move as easily as they did. In fact, she got downright sluggish compared to her spryness of youth. Add in her karen effect increasing with every passing day, and she has gotten quite lazy over the past year.
Many years ago, her mom started feeding a piece of banana to her every morning. I suppose it started by mistake, but today it is a benefit demanded by a dog that should have an asymmetrical haircut and large sunglasses. In recent weeks, Ginger waited until Mom cut the banana before coming downstairs. This morning Ginger reached a new height in being a karen by not coming down at all. Mom being the spoiler of four-legged creatures, took the banana slice up to her baby.
We all know once a karen gets her way one time, that means it is a habit for everyone else must follow. I suspect that Mom will take Ginger a banana slice each and every morning from this day forward or face the groans and moans of our household karen. If mom misses two days, the verbal grumbles of disdain will melt her heart.
Subscribe for alerts at my website and receive notices of my blogs, book updates, and other happens. Look for The Devil’s Dragon coming to a bookstore near you this summer.
God bless,
Danny Mac
So, I managed to get into a bit of hot water this week with my wife, which is hard to do given we have been married twenty-nine years. The Boss (my pet name for her) more than commented on my pants looking a little frayed and kindly suggested I buy new ones. The sun shined on Wednesday and the afternoon was free so I made a pilgrimage to the Outlet Mall.
My bride jumped at the chance to go shopping. My store of choice houses Lee and Wrangler, and it took five minutes to find the pants I like. It took another five minutes to pick out five pairs in my color and size. Then I went to checkout with my wife just getting warmed up for her shopping extravaganza. I reminded her I don’t shop, I buy.
As our dog, Ginger reaches ten years of age, her bones don’t move as easily as they did. In fact, she got downright sluggish compared to her spryness of youth. Add in her karen effect increasing with every passing day, and she has gotten quite lazy over the past year.
Many years ago, her mom started feeding a piece of banana to her every morning. I suppose it started by mistake, but today it is a benefit demanded by a dog that should have an asymmetrical haircut and large sunglasses. In recent weeks, Ginger waited until Mom cut the banana before coming downstairs. This morning Ginger reached a new height in being a karen by not coming down at all. Mom being the spoiler of four-legged creatures, took the banana slice up to her baby.
We all know once a karen gets her way one time, that means it is a habit for everyone else must follow. I suspect that Mom will take Ginger a banana slice each and every morning from this day forward or face the groans and moans of our household karen. If mom misses two days, the verbal grumbles of disdain will melt her heart.
Subscribe for alerts at my website and receive notices of my blogs, book updates, and other happens. Look for The Devil’s Dragon coming to a bookstore near you this summer.
God bless,
Danny Mac
April 21, 2023
My Dog is a Karen – The Last Word
Happy Friday Everyone,
My apologies for the brevity of this post. The editor sent back my manuscript with an overabundance of edits and I am preparing for a book signing this weekend.
Over the past several years, I listened to karen stories while cooking dinner. Many themes persisted throughout the stories, but one stood out this week. Karens always had to have the last word in any argument. If not, it was because police tased, cuffed, and arrested them.
Last week was gorgeous, which meant Ginger wanted out every half-hour after being inside for only a few minutes or I come to get her for going karen on something in the neighborhood. As I called her in on one occasion, she stood proudly for a moment and then barked one more time before entering the house. She must have the last word.
Earlier this week something set off her karen button and the howls wafted into the house. “Ginger get in here!” commanded from my mouth. She stood defiantly for a moment and then, “Arf,” the last word.
As she sauntered back to the house, we heard, “Roof,” echoing around the middle house from two doors down. Ginger stopped, pivoted to be heard, “BARK,” and ran back into the house. The stare I received telling me to close the door immediately was non-negotiable. She got the last word!
Subscribe for alerts at my website and receive notices of my blogs, book updates, and other happens. Look for The Devil’s Dragon coming to a bookstore near you this summer.
God bless,
Danny Mac
My apologies for the brevity of this post. The editor sent back my manuscript with an overabundance of edits and I am preparing for a book signing this weekend.
Over the past several years, I listened to karen stories while cooking dinner. Many themes persisted throughout the stories, but one stood out this week. Karens always had to have the last word in any argument. If not, it was because police tased, cuffed, and arrested them.
Last week was gorgeous, which meant Ginger wanted out every half-hour after being inside for only a few minutes or I come to get her for going karen on something in the neighborhood. As I called her in on one occasion, she stood proudly for a moment and then barked one more time before entering the house. She must have the last word.
Earlier this week something set off her karen button and the howls wafted into the house. “Ginger get in here!” commanded from my mouth. She stood defiantly for a moment and then, “Arf,” the last word.
As she sauntered back to the house, we heard, “Roof,” echoing around the middle house from two doors down. Ginger stopped, pivoted to be heard, “BARK,” and ran back into the house. The stare I received telling me to close the door immediately was non-negotiable. She got the last word!
Subscribe for alerts at my website and receive notices of my blogs, book updates, and other happens. Look for The Devil’s Dragon coming to a bookstore near you this summer.
God bless,
Danny Mac
April 14, 2023
My Dog is a Karen – Tantrum Cancelled
Happy Friday Everyone,
We finished one of the sunniest and warm weeks of April I have seen in sixty-four years of life. Last Friday it rained gloom all day long with hints of snow possibly entering the day. Saturday broke out with sunshine as the warming ball of fire cleared the horizon.
Although the high only reached the mid-forties, it was a pleasant difference between the past few days and the rainy Aprils of past years. The amazing weather continued to improve when Wednesday reached seventy-five degrees (24C for my Canadian friends) with humidity less than forty percent, gorgeous.
As spring brought warming temperatures, our new neighbor received his first toy of country life, a zero-turn riding lawn mower delivered around ten Saturday morning. Naturally, our resident karen voiced her displeasure regarding an unapproved truck stopping next door. Howls outraged throughout the house warning us of the impending doom.
Peering out the window, I saw the truck backing into their drive. “No, you are not going outside to yell at them,” and chase her furry butt up to mom’s room.
Another ten minutes passed before she clanked her bell to go out. A quick look out the front window and the truck left our neighborhood. I started to let her out. As the door cracked open, I spied our neighbor working on his new toy. “Nope,” the door closed without unleashing the karen kraken on the world.
After fifteen minutes of staring at the computer trying to figure out how the next paragraph should appear, Mom yelled out, “Come look at your dog.” There laid a pitiful site of the most abused, disturbed, and disrespected dog ever to pout in the world. I did what any good father would do in this moment of discontent. I snapped a picture to post on the internet for all to see.
A half-hour later, mom grabbed a cookie from the closet to make up to her baby, and the two headed off to her room. In turn, Ginger gave me the cold furry shoulder well into the afternoon for breaking her heart that morning.
Subscribe for alerts at my website and receive notices of my blogs, book updates, and other happens. Look for The Devil’s Dragon coming to a bookstore near you this spring or early summer.
God bless,
Danny Mac
We finished one of the sunniest and warm weeks of April I have seen in sixty-four years of life. Last Friday it rained gloom all day long with hints of snow possibly entering the day. Saturday broke out with sunshine as the warming ball of fire cleared the horizon.
Although the high only reached the mid-forties, it was a pleasant difference between the past few days and the rainy Aprils of past years. The amazing weather continued to improve when Wednesday reached seventy-five degrees (24C for my Canadian friends) with humidity less than forty percent, gorgeous.
As spring brought warming temperatures, our new neighbor received his first toy of country life, a zero-turn riding lawn mower delivered around ten Saturday morning. Naturally, our resident karen voiced her displeasure regarding an unapproved truck stopping next door. Howls outraged throughout the house warning us of the impending doom.
Peering out the window, I saw the truck backing into their drive. “No, you are not going outside to yell at them,” and chase her furry butt up to mom’s room.
Another ten minutes passed before she clanked her bell to go out. A quick look out the front window and the truck left our neighborhood. I started to let her out. As the door cracked open, I spied our neighbor working on his new toy. “Nope,” the door closed without unleashing the karen kraken on the world.
After fifteen minutes of staring at the computer trying to figure out how the next paragraph should appear, Mom yelled out, “Come look at your dog.” There laid a pitiful site of the most abused, disturbed, and disrespected dog ever to pout in the world. I did what any good father would do in this moment of discontent. I snapped a picture to post on the internet for all to see.
A half-hour later, mom grabbed a cookie from the closet to make up to her baby, and the two headed off to her room. In turn, Ginger gave me the cold furry shoulder well into the afternoon for breaking her heart that morning.
Subscribe for alerts at my website and receive notices of my blogs, book updates, and other happens. Look for The Devil’s Dragon coming to a bookstore near you this spring or early summer.
God bless,
Danny Mac
April 7, 2023
My Dog is a Karen – One Day Please
Happy Friday Everyone,
Home is where dog hair sticks to everything but the dog!
This past week proved to be mostly quiet with a couple of karen moments. There were two that stood out in my mind. The first was last Sunday when I let her out for the umpteenth time in the afternoon. Where the sun filled the day in the morning, clouds crept across the sky just after lunch. Around three, the familiar sound of clang waffled through the house as Ginger decide ten minutes in the house was a sufficient respite from the joys of lingering outside.
Barely sat down again, when the hectic scratching came from her door. With a moan and a grumble of my own, I drew myself out of the recliner. Walking through the utility room to her door I heard complaints in a tone that would make a sailor blush. “I’m coming” trying to appease the karen within our dog.
Ginger barged through as the door opens. I spied several raindrops painting the stepping stones like abstract expressionist art. Still moaning about me leaving her outside during a monsoon Ginger groans dramatically at me.
At least twice a day, I found myself chasing after her to stop the tirade at the neighbor’s dog, some random truck, or unseen forces of evil in her mind. The front moved through during the evening with plenty of rain. Monday morning clouds gave way to afternoon sunshine albeit a bit cooler. Ginger sunned herself all afternoon in twenty minutes increments.
As the sun settled over the tree-lined western sky, she wanted out again. I marveled over the fact not once did she karen over something today. A whole day without screeching at some innocent soul for merely being within her eyesight. This lasted about three steps when “Aaarrrroooorrraaarrooo” muffled into the house. One fat old spin later, I opened her door to see her stretched to the furthest point of the leash howling at the two dogs, two doors down.
It was a quiet day for she did not bark at anything all day long from the inside or outside the house. Of course, in the mind of a karen, this could not happen. The prohibition on irrational howling brought on by the day had to stop. She found her self-righteous indignation just before the sun settled making it nearly impossible to achieve her dominance over the neighborhood.
Ginger, please give me one day without howling at the world.
Subscribe for alerts at my website and receive notices of my blogs, book updates, and other happens. Look for The Devil’s Dragon coming to a bookstore near you this spring.
God bless,
Danny Mac
Home is where dog hair sticks to everything but the dog!
This past week proved to be mostly quiet with a couple of karen moments. There were two that stood out in my mind. The first was last Sunday when I let her out for the umpteenth time in the afternoon. Where the sun filled the day in the morning, clouds crept across the sky just after lunch. Around three, the familiar sound of clang waffled through the house as Ginger decide ten minutes in the house was a sufficient respite from the joys of lingering outside.
Barely sat down again, when the hectic scratching came from her door. With a moan and a grumble of my own, I drew myself out of the recliner. Walking through the utility room to her door I heard complaints in a tone that would make a sailor blush. “I’m coming” trying to appease the karen within our dog.
Ginger barged through as the door opens. I spied several raindrops painting the stepping stones like abstract expressionist art. Still moaning about me leaving her outside during a monsoon Ginger groans dramatically at me.
At least twice a day, I found myself chasing after her to stop the tirade at the neighbor’s dog, some random truck, or unseen forces of evil in her mind. The front moved through during the evening with plenty of rain. Monday morning clouds gave way to afternoon sunshine albeit a bit cooler. Ginger sunned herself all afternoon in twenty minutes increments.
As the sun settled over the tree-lined western sky, she wanted out again. I marveled over the fact not once did she karen over something today. A whole day without screeching at some innocent soul for merely being within her eyesight. This lasted about three steps when “Aaarrrroooorrraaarrooo” muffled into the house. One fat old spin later, I opened her door to see her stretched to the furthest point of the leash howling at the two dogs, two doors down.
It was a quiet day for she did not bark at anything all day long from the inside or outside the house. Of course, in the mind of a karen, this could not happen. The prohibition on irrational howling brought on by the day had to stop. She found her self-righteous indignation just before the sun settled making it nearly impossible to achieve her dominance over the neighborhood.
Ginger, please give me one day without howling at the world.
Subscribe for alerts at my website and receive notices of my blogs, book updates, and other happens. Look for The Devil’s Dragon coming to a bookstore near you this spring.
God bless,
Danny Mac
March 31, 2023
My Dog is a Karen – Toy Mayhem
Happy Friday Everyone,
Several times per week I go through the house picking toys off the floor and putting them in Ginger’s box by the door. If not, they end up in the main paths through the house and in the middle of the steps. Ever since my wife broke her ankle coming down the stairs, I am overprotective of obstacles hindering our ability to traverse the steps.
On Tuesdays, we host Small Group in our home. We prepare a meal to go along with potlucks coming to the house. I spend Monday and Tuesday mornings preparing a guide to help us through a portion of Romans. This past week’s passages are Rom. 5:1-11. This is the pivot point in Paul’s letter from a stern rebuke of the reason we cannot save ourselves to the Good News Jesus did for us already.
We start straightening in the afternoon to make the house presentable for guests. While I clean the kitchen, my wife vacuums the living and family rooms. However, all toys must come off the floor before the removal of dust bunnies, tiny pieces of scraps, and copious amounts of dog hair from the past week.
After filling the toy box and before she can start the vacuum, our resident karen voices the complaint of her squeakers not being where she left them. Grumbling and moaning Ginger takes her toys out of the box and places them around the living room for easy access. “Ginger, I just put those away,” drifts into the kitchen.
Needing a good chuckle, I step into the room to see her mom staring down at her baby. Then takes the newly dropped toys and returns them to the box. She sees the smirk on my face, “Not a word!” as Ginger climbs on the couch still moaning grievances under her breath.
For those of you who might wonder, yes, I had to put the toys away just before the guest came for dinner. By then, queen karen anticipates the arrival of her adorning audience and leaves them in the box until the next morning when she spread them throughout the house once more.
Subscribe for alerts at my website and receive notices of my blogs, book updates, and other happens. Look for The Devil’s Dragon coming to a bookstore near you this spring.
God bless,
Danny Mac
Several times per week I go through the house picking toys off the floor and putting them in Ginger’s box by the door. If not, they end up in the main paths through the house and in the middle of the steps. Ever since my wife broke her ankle coming down the stairs, I am overprotective of obstacles hindering our ability to traverse the steps.
On Tuesdays, we host Small Group in our home. We prepare a meal to go along with potlucks coming to the house. I spend Monday and Tuesday mornings preparing a guide to help us through a portion of Romans. This past week’s passages are Rom. 5:1-11. This is the pivot point in Paul’s letter from a stern rebuke of the reason we cannot save ourselves to the Good News Jesus did for us already.
We start straightening in the afternoon to make the house presentable for guests. While I clean the kitchen, my wife vacuums the living and family rooms. However, all toys must come off the floor before the removal of dust bunnies, tiny pieces of scraps, and copious amounts of dog hair from the past week.
After filling the toy box and before she can start the vacuum, our resident karen voices the complaint of her squeakers not being where she left them. Grumbling and moaning Ginger takes her toys out of the box and places them around the living room for easy access. “Ginger, I just put those away,” drifts into the kitchen.
Needing a good chuckle, I step into the room to see her mom staring down at her baby. Then takes the newly dropped toys and returns them to the box. She sees the smirk on my face, “Not a word!” as Ginger climbs on the couch still moaning grievances under her breath.
For those of you who might wonder, yes, I had to put the toys away just before the guest came for dinner. By then, queen karen anticipates the arrival of her adorning audience and leaves them in the box until the next morning when she spread them throughout the house once more.
Subscribe for alerts at my website and receive notices of my blogs, book updates, and other happens. Look for The Devil’s Dragon coming to a bookstore near you this spring.
God bless,
Danny Mac
