winston_picBooyah! Boo YAH! [sung to triplet high hats @ 140BPM] Sir Winston is in the HOUSE!!!

Editor: been drinking from puddles again, Winston?

Nope, Neverend Bore®, I’m super-hyped because:


Ed: you mean bath and flea repellant day?

Noooooo – those are days of sackcloth and ashes. I’m talkin’ about he whose name should never be uttered.

Ah – the Holy Name of God.

Noooooo – I mean the peep who loves all creation: the babe who IS … You get me?

You mean Babe – the pig in the movie?

Noooooo – what planet are you from? No – don’t answer that. <sigh> I mean the babe who is … FRANKIE!

St. Francis of Assisi. You could be a little more reverent by calling him by his proper name, you know.

You mean, the name you peeps gave him? We in the world of God’s Creation show him due respect by naming him as he really is: a child of God who cared for God’s creation. ‘Frankie’ is a familiar name – `cos we know him better than you do.


Peeps to the Max – How are Yoooo?????

Yes, it is true: in much less than one of a cat’s nine lives, all of creation will once again be celebrating the wonder that is Frankie Babe – to which y’all are invited, if your fellow creature so allows.

We will be One Under Brother Sun® – of whom recently you’ve had some infatuation (I do BIG words J). Sister moon will arrive late to the party, but she’s always hanging round.

Even more fantastic-y than that: there will be various rescues, stuff, food, and the opening of the St. Francis Garden. YES – a garden for Frankie Babe!

I was hoping it’d be called something like the ‘Sir Winston Eats Everything Tasty – Bring Over Yours’ (SWEET BOY for short) but, apparently, it’s not all about me. Enough to know that it will be a beautiful memorial, not only for the saint who IS Frankie Babe, but also as a wonderful tribute from you peeps to your beloved creatures who have crossed over bridges of various hues.

The most important part of the day, though, is the ‘blessing’ part: the time when we all enter into God’s House and partay. Well, I think it’s a party, anyway. What’s more cool than all of us being together under the Big Boss’s eye, singing and praying together – and we creatures getting to say our own form of The Creed:

‘We Creatures promise to look after those You have given to our care, not only to the best of our ability, but with all the love we can muster – to the end of our lives.’

Sad to say that some of those creatures will have been turfed out from their previous forever home, even though they were willing to live up to The Creed. Their peeps, though … some tried but sadly failed, some couldn’t be bothered, and some abused the opportunity.

But, as with all things God, there’s always another chance. And this is where the rescues come in!

Yes, it can be hard work. Yes, you might not have thought about remodeling your house and now you are upset. Yes, you never expected this level of anxiety, neurosis, paranoia, and vet bills. But it is all worth it!!!

Coming home to a love-crazed canine, or a mildly bemused feline, is the most wonderfullest thing that can happen to a peep. We know where we were; we now know where we are – and we will be forever grateful to you for giving us this opportunity to share your lives with us.

And I mustn’t forget those other creatures who love to love: the rarebits, gibblets, and hamstrings (ed: you mean rabbits, Gerbils, and Hamsters) along with snaky-things, stick-y-things, birdies of all sizes (and attitudes) – along with fishies, whose memories are much betterer than you peeps give them credit for. (That’s right, I ended with a preposition – feel free to breath into a paper bag!)

Yes, it is sad that you will probably outlive us – but we are like Celine Dion. No, not Canadian: our love for you goes on and on and on and … well, you get the picture. It may be: “Weeping may last for a night, but joy comes with the morning”(Psalm 30:5) but what can I say?

All I can tell you peeps is, that, everything in this life is transitory, but what may happen in the next life … well, that’s eternal. So don’t let your fear of sorrow and loss put you off – give us a chance to love you into heaven!

Or … in my case, annoy the hair off his head J (ed: that’s alright, Winston – I didn’t need it anyway).

And if Frankie’s Big Bash isn’t a big deal for some of you peeps, why deny your fellow creature the opportunity to have a great time? You see it’s a win-win: you get to go on and on about how your hair grew six inches during ‘Father’s’ last sermon, while we get to talk about things on a completely higher level. Except the Boxers – they are just crazy. Oh – and the Bulldogs. Nuts. Cats just plot world domination – until a ball of wool rolls by. Well, we can talk about all the things we talk about, if we want to!

So … be there – or be a regular four-sided equilateral object.

Keepin’ It Real,


Winston's Paw