'here & Know'

Our puppy, Jude, was scarcely three months old when he died in the creek that separated the Cravendorf residence from ours. Though I could never muster up any hard proof, I was sure it was Mr. Josef Cravendorf himself who drowned the pup in cold blood.... Josef and his wife Marjorie had arrived in Red Sparrow Falls under suspicious circumstances. "You look too young to be retired," I told them. Apparently, he had been a doctor of some renown, a surgeon in the city, and previously owned a cottage on some nonfunctional farmland just southeast of Erwin. Once, I called him Dr. and he immediately corrected me. "Call me Mr., or–better yet-just call me Josef," he told me. "Makes the transition back into civilian life a little bit easier," he said with a chuckle. "But what about the Hippocratic Oath?" I asked him. He scoffed. "Hooey." --- Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/myspace/support

Things have changed around these parts as u can see, im jut taking it day by day --- Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/myspace/support

"Oh, Henry dear," Margaret said, startling me from behind as I sat transfixed at the kitchen table in the warm air bath of rotting aardvark meat which was to be our dinner.... "The Cravendorfs?" I said, indignantly. "Why would I want to associate with that lot? On my birthday no less!" I was incensed. Sure, I had forgotten that today was my seventy-seventh birthday, but the sting of the prospect of having to spend it with my hideous neighbors over a platter of broiled anteater was too much for my weary mind to process. I am a calm man, not prone to outburst. But Margaret was testing my limits. The only question was, why? --- Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/myspace/support

I woke up feeling sleepier than I ever had before. One thousand nights of pure slumber could not have prepared me for the feeling. It was a hell. Nevertheless, I pulled myself out from under the covers and meandered downstairs.... I couldn't stomach of the smell of one more dead aardvark in the kitchen and, though I should've been more prepared–I had heard Margaret sneak out in the middle night to do some hunting–here it was again. Sprawled out on the counter, skinned of its fur, I could almost see the stink. Margaret had gotten the idea, somewhere along the fading line of life, that the game meat had to proof like dough before cooking. The buzzing flies said otherwise.  --- Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/myspace/support

wait till you see the novelization of this (im not kidding) - byebye --- Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/myspace/support

so so close --- Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/myspace/support

add a sponsored section to this are you for real --- Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/myspace/support

a tru gentleman --- Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/myspace/support

huhnow --- Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/myspace/support

if ya dont want no verm --- Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/myspace/support

not talking about no pen --- Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/myspace/support

tru story --- Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/myspace/support

if ya know, ya know --- Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/myspace/support

they got a crunch --- Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/myspace/support

on numbers and such # --- Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/myspace/support

things were different back when --- Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/myspace/support

the people know who they are --- Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/myspace/support

its a place u can go a place for friends and such --- Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/myspace/support

ahhhhhhh beees in brrreeaaaad --- Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/myspace/support

the saga cont'inues --- Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/myspace/support