RKS Poetry Anthology (All We Get Are The Coffee Grinds): CLEARING A PEE PATH

CLEARING A PEE PATH

No, I am not mistakenly referring to the rock n roll song “Shaking All Over”

But after 60 cms of snow with drifts to enormous I have to wade waist deep out my front door

It is shovel MORE MORE

Poor doggie Dylan’s back door and occasional pee path is blocked by a huge drift

Both he and I are miffed

But what can you do with Mother Nature’s big dump

Just get out that shovel and grunt hoping the next day your muscles won’t backtalk and be a grump

Out shovelling at 02:00

And still at 5 the snow grew

I must go out yet again and shovel a pee path at the back door

Because if I don’t man’s best friend might pee on the indoor floor

Robert K. Stephen

RKS Poetry Anthology (All We Get Are The Coffee Grinds):MY LIFE AS A HOOKER AND ELECTION TIME IN CANADA

MY LIFE AS A HOOKER AND ELECTION TIME IN CANADA

Playing golf this year I am hooking the ball to the left

I query out loud why am I hooking?

Drawing guffaws from my fellow hookers

And has caused me to think about the upcoming Canadian federal election

A cause of a plethora of media frenzied erections

As all politicians state it is time for societal corrections!

But obviously politicians are not the hookers

But they try and bribe the electorate to enter their door marked by a red light just like in Amsterdam

Giving away the body and flesh of a bankrupt Canada

Through billion dollar promises

Never delivered upon

You ordinarily pay a hooker

But this time the hooker politicians are trying to pay you to visit their deceptive dream

Robert K. Stephen

“Lost in Puppydom: Rory Dylan Stephen’s Puppydom”: TIME TO SAY AU REVOIR AND ASK WHERE DO WE GO FROM HERE?

TIME TO SAY AU REVOIR AND ASK WHERE DO WE GO FROM HERE?

Bob and Fay are just a bit worried about me after a few weeks back in Toronto thinking I am moping about and lacking enthusiasm for the activities and interests I had before my abduction.

Let’s face it with the excitement and tension flung my way attacking chew toys and stuffed playthings seem so juvenile.

After travelling to exotic destinations, living the life of extreme luxury, my celebrity status, murder, extortion, terrorism, international intrigue, chicken congee and Singaporean chicken walks in the park and eating crunchy chicken kibble ain’t what they used to be.

But given the upcoming Canada China Friendship Tour, an invitation from Canadian Prime Minister Thomas Bankboy to watch the Grey Cup game with him and the upcoming movie about my life produced by Nicole Kidman entitled “From Hostage to Hero” I am not destined to wallow in the quagmire of boredom.

With my new best friend Raffles and my solid friendship in the hood like Mookie, Billy, Jasper, Hattie, Emma, Lulu and Lady I will be just fine.

You know I always have Dylan the Westie and Reggie the Egyptian Rescue Dog to emulate. Bob has said several times that I am destined for greatness and of course I will be sharing my future adventures with you all.

It is only Au Revoir until we meet again.

A heartfelt snouting to you all! Good-bye to my Puppydom!

RORY DYLAN STEPHEN

“Lost in Puppydom: Rory Dylan Stephen’s Puppydom”: WHO EXACTLY IS RAFFLES?

WHO EXACTLY IS RAFFLES?

We adopted Raffles, a West Highland Terrier…I think. He may be a mixie but he is mostly Westie in look and attitude.

I first met him in Singapore at the Singapore Westie of the Year contest. He should have won that contest, but Bobby Fong Jr. had given me a “competitive edge” by having Raffles injected with steroids “on the sly” and “unfortunately” was disqualified after a blood test to ensure the top 5 Westies were “clean”. As runner up I won the title.

I met him subsequently a few times at the luxury hotel Raffles Singapore where he was “employed” as a greeter and a rat and rodent hunter of the kitchens of Raffles Singapore. I had the pleasure of ratting with him twice and we struck gold once by hitting up a couple of big fat Norway rats behind a bag of Durians! Those peppercorns on your hotel steak my not be peppercorns if you know what I mean.

Raffles was an “employee” of Raffles Singapore obviously exploited as he received no wages. Bangladeshi guest workers were paid so why not Raffles? A Singaporean slave?

He slept in a room off the kitchen.

He had a boss, whoever the doorman on duty was.

As far as scant collective hotel management memory is concerned, Raffles was found “several years ago” in a back alley of the hotel dazed and bleeding. A dishwasher at the hotel, a former opium addict and veterinarian took Raffles under his wing and nursed him back to health. The poor kitchen worker was gunned down outside the hotel in a huge gum smuggling deal gone sour and poor Raffles, thought to be 4 years old or so was adopted “by the hotel” and put to work as a greeter and later a rat and rodent hunter.

As a greeter Raffles would bound up to arriving guests, wag his tail and give a gentle welcoming bark. Occasionally his welcoming antics were not appreciated so he learnt well how to “read” guests to detect fear and apprehension as not all loved dogs. Occasionally a naughty sprog would yank his tail but Raffles would never bite.

You may recall the Sultan of Palumbia arriving at Raffles Singapore in great self-inflicted pomp and circumstance kicked and insulted poor Raffles who retaliated with a “warning nip” on the Sultan’s ankle who retaliated by threatening to execute him unless he was permanently removed from the hotel and so Bob and Fay with a bark of assent on my part adopted Raffles on the spot.

Our “friends” in the Singaporean government provided us in short order with “proper travelling” documentation that would permit him to travel both to China and Canada.

So here is in Toronto, Canada now with us.

He is a big brother for me but I must be in charge to acclimatize him to Canada. A pleasure.

As the expression goes, we are “partners in crime” without being criminals.

RKS French Literature: The Archdeacon Reveals His Mad Passion for Esmeralda the Beautiful Gypsy (Victor Hugo)

Oh! to love a woman – to be a priest – to be hated – to love her with all the fury of your soul – to feel that you would give for the least of her smiles your blood, your vitals, your reputation, your salvation, immortality and eternity and the other – to regret that you are not a king, a genius, an emperor, an archangel. God, that you might place a greater slave beneath her feet – to clasp her day and night in your dreams, in your thoughts and to see her in love with the trappings of a soldier and have nothing for her but a priest’s dirty cassock, which will terrify and disgust her.

Victor Hugo, “The Hunchback of Notre-Dame”

RKS French Literature: The Pillory to the Tavern then the Gallows (Victor Hugo)

‘Jehan, you are on a very slippery, downward path; know wither you are going?’

‘To the tavern,’ said Jehan.

‘The tavern leads to the pillory.’

‘Tis a lantern like any other, and ‘twas perhaps the one with which Diogenes found his man.’

‘The gallows is a balance which has a man at one end and the whole world at the other. ’Tis fine to be the man.’

‘The gallows lead to hell.’

‘That’s a rousing fire.’

‘Jehan. Jehan! The end will be bad.’

‘ ‘Twill have had a good beginning.’

Victor Hugo, “The Hunchback of Notre-Dame”

RKS French Literature: Captain Phoebus de Chateaupers: Of Noble Birth but of Vulgar Tastes (Victor Hugo)

…the prospect of an approaching marriage grew less attractive to him each day. Besides, he was of fickle disposition, and if the truth must be told, rather vulgar in his tastes. Although of noble birth, he had contracted, under his officer’s accoutrements, more than one of the habits of the common soldier. He delighted in the tavern and its accompaniments, and was never at his ease save amidst coarse witticisms, military gallantries, easy beauties and as easy conquests. He had notwithstanding received from his family some education and polish; but he began his career too young, had too early kept garrison, and each day the varnish of the gentleman became more and more worn away under the friction of the gendarme’s baldric.

Victor Hugo, “The Hunchback of Notre-Dame”

I AM FINALLY BACK HOME IN TORONTO: I AM FINALLY BACK HOME IN TORONTO

I AM FINALLY BACK HOME IN TORONTO

We had a brief en route stop at the Royal Military College in Kingston, Ontario. The senior commanding officer gave a “rousing speech” about “the incredible bravery of Rory Dylan Stephen” as so said the Kingston Whig Standard. Photo ops and being patted (how archaic) on the head by the cadets. The young ladies were quite attracted to yours truly and Raffles.

Off to Chez Piggy in Kingston for an early dinner.

An hour later on the way to Toronto we paid a surprise visit to my Godfather, Mr. G. with his summer estate located in Prince Edward County. I scarcely remember him but he was most thrilled to see all of us. He asked if he could also be a godfather to Raffles and I barked my royal assent to that suggestion.

Finally around the dinner hour at home! I always knew, or perhaps deluded myself, I would return to Toronto. I could have been blown up searching for landmines in Cambodia or on the Eastern & Oriental Express.

Exhilaration at my return with unexplained foreboding. Strange having both joy and sadness. What’s this about?

Off for a walk with Raffles and my goodness all the neighbours were blown over by seeing a neighbourhood based international celebrity and hero.

Grrrr…this hero stuff again!

Raffles was overwhelmed. He has a family. He has me. He has the dogs of the hood. No more kissing up to guests arriving at the Raffles Singapore that didn’t deserve the time of day and those naughty sprogs pulling his tail. And arrogant idiots like the Sultan of Palumbia.

I have a big job facing me. Although Raffles is a few years older than me, he is a Singaporean Westie. A working Westie. A Westie without a family. I must transition him into life in suburban Toronto.

“Lost in Puppydom: Rory Dylan Stephen’s Puppydom”: DINNER WITH THE PRIME MINISTER OF CANADA: BEING USED YET AGAIN

DINNER WITH THE PRIME MINISTER OF CANADA: BEING USED YET AGAIN

Being somewhat sick and tired of limousines all of us took Ottawa Transit to the Prime Minister’s residence.

Bedraggled and besieged Prime Minster of Canada Thomas Bankboy battling the aggression and hot tornadic air of President Orville Grump of the United States. Annexation. Tariffs. Insults. Threats. Inanities. Puffery.

Bankboy was most interested in hearing about my time with Prime Minister Wong of Singapore with whom he just talked with about a free trade agreement between Singapore and Canada.

Bankboy thanked me for my service to Canada and said I would be the first dog in Canada to receive an Order of Canada appointment. What have I done for Canada? Again as with the Singaporeans I am a symbol of resistance to American imperialism? I picked up that neat term “imperialism” in my recent set of meetings in Beijing!

He knew well the plans afoot for a Canada China Friendship tour which he said would inspire Canadians from coast to coast.

Damn it. I am still a puppy. How can I inspire millions of Canadians not being a hockey player?

I am being used and I sense it is for a “good cause”.

Jimmy Hendrix, Janis Joplin and Keith Moon died for the music. Was that a good cause?

My sense was Bankboy wanted a meet and greet to ensure if this tour occurred, I was a solid Tim Horton’s canine who would not embarrass Canada.

As Raffles was part of that tour Bankboy was concerned he might nip a poor innocent Chinese primary school student during the tour but his fears were allayed when Bob explained the cruelty of the Sultan of Palumbia. He chortled upon hearing how I had pooped near the Sultan’s luggage and he stepped in it dragging dog feces through the lobby of Raffles Singapore making a horrible stink.

Bankboy barbequed beautiful grass-fed Alberta beef burgers of which Raffles and I delighted in as well as a half of a PEI baked potato and green beans from his wife’s garden.

Bankboy arranged to drive us back to Toronto tomorrow morning with “I’m sure you wouldn’t mind a brief stop in Kingston, Ontario to meet our fine young men and women of the Royal Military College.”

“Lost in Puppydom: Rory Dylan Stephen’s Puppydom”: WE ARRIVE SAFELY IN OTTAWA:  TODAY DEBRIEFING WITH CSIS: TOMORROW DINNER WITH THE PRIME MINISTER OF CANADA

WE ARRIVE SAFELY IN OTTAWA:  TODAY DEBRIEFING WITH CSIS: TOMORROW DINNER WITH THE PRIME MINISTER OF CANADA

We arrived in Ottawa just past midnight. We experienced severe turbulence over Murmansk causing poor Raffles to puke up a storm. Poor guy has never been on a plane.

I could have kissed the tarmac as we left the plane just like the Pope but nature called and I am not kissing where I pee thank you.

Our Chinese friends took us in their Mercedes van and dropped us off at the Chateau Laurier. Not as ritzy as the Singapore Shangri-La but not bad.

Everyone crashed totally exhausted and Raffles and I enjoyed our little beds given to us in Beijing by our hosts. That little hammer and sickle patch on the beds make them truly a piece of Marxist magic!

As is often the case after long days of travelling one believes a deep and restful sleep will be the order of the day. Not so. Toss and turn.

At 11:00 hours an agent of the Canadian Security Information Services (CSIS) was to pick us up at the hotel and take us to CSIS headquarters on Sparks Street in Ottawa.

I will admit great disappointment with our buffet breakfast. Pancakes, waffles, French toast, bacon, roast potatoes, baked beans and all manner of carbohydrates. No congee. No dim sum. No noodles. No papaya. No soups. And such a plethora of fat people unlike the Asians I have been living with in the past couple of months. A gold mine for Ozempic!

Fay detests buffets. Gluttony unlimited she says. Bob loves the concept but can’t put the grub down like he used to. He recounted over our breakfast as a child of 6 or 7 living in Pointe Claire, Quebec he would go down to the old village and eat a buffet dinner with his family at the El Paso. He once had seven bowls of canned fruit salad. Such gluttony Fay lamented!

At CSIS a bunch of serious stuffed shirts as I was queried about my adventures which I will not repeat here. They admitted Keith, our Eastern & Oriental Express butler was a CSIS agent and that CSIS was aware of some nefarious plan to annex Canada by the United States but had no details.

Two hours of mundane questions left me bored. As a “gift” Raffles and I received a cheap chew toy. No wonder these turkeys missed Operation EPIC Turkey. If they can’t understand sophisticated West Highland Terriers, do you think they could unveil a dastardly political plan of President Orville Grump of the United States.

I nearly died in that Eastern & Oriental Express bombing by “unmarked fighter jets” and Raffles was close to Sultanic execution by the Sultan of Palumbia, and we get a pat on the head and a $14.99 Kong chew toy!

The fighter jets were F-18’s and were traced by the Singaporeans to a United States Airforce base in the Philippines. No one believed the Eastern & Oriental Express bombing was the act of Amira “the Malay terrorist”. Rather it was an attack by American terrorists.