Scary Dreams

Holding hands we strolled the beach on a beautiful December day. Children played in the surf while their Moms tanned in the sand. A freshly painted Shrimp Boat rolled on the ocean dragging its nets behind. We were making our way to Marlin Monroe's for the annual "Pay off the Tybee Island Police Department Oyster Roast".

We were not too worried about the dogs causing a disturbance while we were away because Goddess was stoned out of her mind and had fallen asleep under the Chiminea.

Winston, the little gay dog, was tied up with a sock stuffed in his mouth and locked in Sarah's closet. It's one of his favorite games! We pretend to be the neighbor who gardens in her underwear which scares the shit out of the dogs and they moan loudly in agony. Apparently this disturbs the neighbors to our right who pretty much stay locked up in their house.

The neighbor on our left never seems to notice because she's standing on her back deck wearing a bath robe with cat fur flying all around her with a blue towel wrapped around her hair. She looks like Marge Simpson on meth as she screeches, "HERE KITTY, KITTY, KITTY!"

She's a nice neighbor and once stopped me when I was walking Goddess to say, "Mike are you aware that our neighbor gardens in her underwear and is bombarding my kittens with Cherry tomatoes?" 

"Well," I replied while Goddess turned her head to take a quick toke, "she did leave a note on our door explaining that our moaning dogs were giving her a headache whenever she gardened in her underwear."

"What did you?" the Kitty Lady asked.

"I left a note on her door asking that she please put clothes on when she gardens or at least buy underwear that match and don't have holes in them."

"Hmmm," the Cat Lady said while cat fur circled around her blue towel head like a halo. 'Maybe that's why we never see anybody else who lives on this street."

She has a point.

It's a nice street though. The marsh is at one end with a terrific view of the lighthouse. It goes for six blocks in the other direction and dumps you in the Back River. They're lots of trees, tons of birds, lush foliage and we're close enough to the ocean where we can just carry our stuff.

It's like any street in most any town. It's Mayberry ... ON ACID!

Strolling into Marlin's Michael Moody and Anne Allman (yes those Allman's) are playing some great blues. We're greeted by neighbors and meet new friends. Jenny O invites us to her Christmas party and we invite her to ours (which has a saran wrap theme). The Tybee Island Police Department seem to be enjoying themselves slurping oysters and slugging beers. There's no breeze and the freshly painted Shrimp Boat continues to roll in the distance.

After a while we make our way home and run into Glenn and Vicky who literally moved to the island today. We arrived just in time to miss helping them unload anything. Sean and Wen arrived just before we did and didn't have to unload anything either! When you live on an island, timing is everything!

In the distance I could faintly hear, "Here Kitty, Kitty, Kitty!"

"Shit!" I exclaim. "We forgot about Winston, the little gay dog!"

Running home we were relieved to find him unbound, giggling and snuggled with Goddess under the Chiminea.

"How do you suppose ..." Sarah started to ask.

"Ssshhhuuu," I said. "Sometimes its best to not know. Besides, they seem happy."

Before bed, Sarah prayed the nightly prayers with them. "Dear Jesus, please let Goddess and Winston, the little gay dog, know how loved they are and not have any scary dreams ... about bitchy neighbors gardening with holey underwear."