







Twilight

Quintin & Cruella de Quill watching the colors at dawn
Cruella: “Hey Quintin! It looks like a pathetic paparazzo is pestering us poor porcupines.”
Quintin: “It seems that way, doesn’t it!”
Cruella: “He can’t leave a pair of porcupines in peace to enjoy the colorful dawn.”
Quintin: “A paparazzo with no regard for porcupine privacy!”
Cruella: “So? What are you going to do about him?”
Quintin: “Uhhh! Like what can I do about him?”
Cruella: “Throw some quills at him! Poof up and act scary like you’re going to attack him, or something!”
Quintin: “You know I can’t throw quills…”
Cruella: “Yeah! But that pesky paparazzo might not know that. Humans believe we can throw our quills at them.”
Quintin: “Il paparazzo is unphased by those tactics!”
Cruella: “You’re going to have to hit him with the heavy artillery!
Quintin: “Nooo! You don’t mean…”
Cruella: “Yes, I do… Set up him the stink bomb!*”



*Cruella de Quill’s weird grammar in her last statement is based on a bad translation of an old Japanese video game. When poofing violently, like they are going to throw their quills, doesn’t phase pesky paparazzi predators, porcupines will drop powerful stink bombs trying to keep predatory paparazzi at bay.


Spunk, Gwendolyn, and Glenda by Laurie

pTerodactyl @ Dusk

Resa’s Wolf Tree and Jupiter


Twilight






Herbie: “Hey Ralph! let’s see if we can find some kitty!”
Ralph: “I have some business to attent to first!
Herbie: “What do you mean, ‘Business to attend to?'”
Ralph: “I have to go ‘potty’ as the human’s say!”
Herbie: “Oh wow man! OK! Hurry up.”
Ralph: “Hey Herbie! Check it out, man! It’s a real masterpiece!”
Herbie: “Hey Ralph! Quit kicking dirt in my face!”
Ralph: “Hahahaha! Eat my dust, Herbie!”
*Reminiscent of Cheech & Chong’s “Ralph & Herbie” on their “Big Bambú” albumn, 1972.






Spunk: “You and the coyotes have gone too far with that crappy ripoff from Cheech & Chong. Those coyotes are uncreative, creepy characters with nothing but kitties on their twisted little minds. And you! You’re a sicko, pathetic, perverted paparazzo! I’m so embarrassed I’m crawling into a bean sack so I don’t have to look at you!”
Jake: “I think Ralph and Herbie are hilarious. I love crappy, mucus humor! You’re just an old sourpuss, Spunk! Lighten up a little and enjoy some lo-fi canine humor!”
Spunk: “At least my masterpieces are really Art! Unlike Ralph’s crap.”

Gwendolyn: “Hey, Spunk! Remember that I contributed to your latest masterpiece.”


Dusk







Cats: “Cheese is always a mystery!”
Paparazzo: “As mysterious as cheese is to you cats, cheese is not the mystery.”

Jake and I ventured off down another coyote trail. We went as far as we could go and discovered a pair of shovels.

Cats: “Not a pair of shovels! Those shovels are not what one would use in a kitty litter box. Where do you think the body is buried?”
Paparazzo: “Good question, kitties. I was asking myself the same question.”

“Don’t look at me! I had nothing to do with it.”


“Those are suspicious-looking ‘Hightops’!”

“I saw no evil. Heard no evil, and I don’t give a bloody hoot about no buried bodies or stinking evil!”

“We’re with you, Daddy Owl! Who has time to give a bloody hoot about another stinking shovel mystery?”


Twilight
His shadow waned with the moon
As Sasquatch surveyed changes from yesterday’s yawn
He pitied the sorry state of the scoop shovel
Alone and cold on unscoopable sand, cursed by old Jack Frost
A portal opened, and he walked through to the other side
To his land unknown by humans stuck in 3D
Leaving the scoop shovel to its fate
Meanwhile, Osric courted Nora
Hooting sweet nothings in her feathery ear
Time to work on this year’s brood
Love at twilight. Dawn blushed!








Marble: “Can I lick sweet nothings in your ear, Spunk?”

Black laced trees under a wintery sky

Through the looking glass, Sasha dreams of going down a rabbit hole


Light snow falls on the Sandias at dusk

When Sasquatch ventured back again
The scoop shovel was standing straight up on end
It stood there straight, it stood there bold
When he tried to grab it, only his shadow took hold
“Strange, is it true? Am I only a legend, a story told?”
“A mythical creature like Skinwalkers of old?”
After he couldn’t get the scoop
He wondered what he would tell the group
Are they real or surreal or just mythical beings
Stradling dimensions, mostly unseen
By humans stuck between two and fourth
Who sometimes get a sighting as he slips between floors
An anomaly that ripples space and time’s clear hue
A slight tear in the fabric that offers a view
Whether the story is true or simply belied
As the Sasquatch scoop shovel saga unfolds
So go discoveries in darkness and cold


“Sasquatch can slip through dimensions and grab kitties for breakfast? We think you need to leave Sasquatch be Paparazzo I am, and fix us a plate of green eggs and ham!”

Marble: “I’m not afraid of no stinking inter-dimensional Sasquatch! Spunk will whip Sasquatch with his tail, make art out of him, and then kick his butt again!”

Sunrise


Cranes in the evening


Waning Wolf Moon over Jupiter, Pollux, and Castor

Sasquatch stumbled upon a scoop shovel
Under the light of a waning Wolf Moon
When darkness would give way to twilight soon
Sasquatch wandered out from his hovel
Onto the beach where he spied a shovel
What is this strange thing? He thought with wonder
Is it useful or a trap to pull me asunder?
Oh, hark! I hear a human coming this way
It’ll have to wait for another day

“Sasquatch? Did you say Sasquatch? We heard he likes to eat cats!”

Dawn

Spunk: “I’m not afraid of no stinking Sasquatch! I kicked his butt six years ago when I slipped through a wormhole, and it took me a month to fight my way back into this dimension.”

Dusk
Black lace tree at dusk