Sunday, 24 June 2018

Dog and Cat Diary

As seen in a dog's diary:

7 am - Oh boy! A walk!  My favourite!

8 am - Oh boy! Dog food!  My favourite!

9 am - Oh boy! The kids!  My favourite!

Noon - Oh boy! The yard!  My favourite!

2 pm - Oh boy! A car ride!  My favourite!

3 pm - Oh boy! The kids!  My favourite!

4 pm - Oh boy! Playing ball!  My favourite!

6 pm - Oh boy! Welcome home Mom!  My favourite!

7 pm - Oh boy! Welcome home Dad!  My favourite!

8 pm - Oh boy! Dog food!  My favourite!

9 pm - Oh boy! Tummy rubs on the couch!  My favourite!

11 pm - Oh boy! Sleeping in my people's bed!  My favourite!

As seen in a cat's diary

Day 183 of my captivity... My captors continued to taunt me with bizarre little dangling objects.

They dine lavishly on fresh meat, while I am forced to eat dry cereal.  The only thing that keeps me going is the hope of escape, and the mild satisfaction I get from clawing their furniture.

Tomorrow I will eat another houseplant.

Today my attempt to kill my captors by weaving around their feet while they were walking almost succeeded - must try this at the top of the stairs.

To disgust and repulse these vile oppressors, I once again induced myself to vomit on their favourite chair.  I must remember to try this on their bed.

Decapitated a mouse and brought them the headless body to make them aware of what I am capable of, and to try to strike fear in their hearts.  They only cooed and condescended about what a good little cat I was.  Hmmm, that did not work according to plan.

There was some sort of gathering of their accomplices. I was placed in solitary throughout the event. However, I could hear the noise and smell the food. More important, I overheard my confinement was due to my powers of inducing "allergies." I must learn what this is and how I may use it to my advantage.

I am convinced the other captives are flunkies and maybe snitches. The dog is routinely released and seems more than happy to return. He is obviously a half-wit.

The bird, on the other hand, has got to be an informant and speaks with them regularly. I am certain he reports my every move. Due to his current placement in the metal room, his safety is assured. But I have patience, I can wait, it is only a matter of time.

Author unknown


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Sunday, 17 June 2018

Angel with Drumsticks: Review by Trevar Langlands

Pamela King is a member of the Wollondilly FAW and is a most competent writer and mentor... she was also successful in having a story selected in last year's Seniors Short Stories publication.

I would like to mention a book Pamela has published called Angel with Drumsticks. Now, this is a very unusual but true story which you might say shook the foundations of the Vatican. For anyone interested in music, rock, and the Vatican it would be a most interesting read.

It was told to the author by Angelo Ferrari, drummer, singer and founder of the Italian Beat rock group Angel and the Brains. It's about how the band was formed and its music ambitions and tells the true story about the aftermath of La Messa Dei Giovani.

La Messa was conceived to fulfil the desires of Vatican II to make the Catholic Church more appealing to young people but, because of resulting bitter and vicious arguments within the Church and the Media, the Vatican took a course of action that was inconsiderate, hurtful and cold hearted.

There are a number of interesting black and white photographs in the book, of the band, of the Vatican, Rome, and the Pope.

This is a story I did not know and found it very compelling and very revealing.

The band's first record contract was with Ariel. To promote this new concept of a Rock Mass, priests travelled around Rome putting up posters at most of the Cathedrals and Churches and there were articles and photos in many newspapers.

Huge crowds turned up for this special rock mass, people of all ages, for and against.

Despite much complaint for and against, the band decided on a Rock Mass world tour.

The story relates how these young musicians who had responded to an invitation from the Church to perform the first rock Mass in Rome had their careers destroyed by the Vatican.

But I am leaving the guts of the story for readers ... it's a very unusual story that Pam has written.

Reviewed by Trevar Langlands, State President, Fellowship of Australian Writers

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Sunday, 10 June 2018

Lost Puppy by Pamela King

Wailing sirens pierced her young ears. Thick black smoke began to replace the hot flames that engulfed the house.

Matching her flood of tears, water ran like a torrent down the street, cooling hot embers. Her chest heaved with every sob. Where was her puppy?

An alien form with mask, helmet and breathing tank emerged from the blacken house. It strode purposely in her direction. She trembled, burying her head against her mother’s own shaking form.

The strange creature removed its mask and smiled a kind smile. Opening its arms, a small fluffy bundled was revealed.

New tears formed grey tracks down her small, ash tarnished face. Tears of joy. This was not a monster. It was a fireman. It was her hero who had saved her puppy.