Welcome, I’m Mary Louisa Locke, the author of the USA Today best-selling Victorian San Francisco Mystery series and the Caelestis Science Fiction series. In this daily newsletter, I reflect on my life as an indie author trying to age gracefully, including my struggles to maintain a balanced life, what I listen to, read, and watch for entertainment, and occasional bits of information I’ve gleaned from doing the research for my novels.
In addition, now and again I will provide some of my fiction to read, for free, on this newsletter. Everything is available to anyone who subscribes, but I am always pleased when someone shows their appreciation for the newsletter by upgrading to paid.
Daily Diary, Day 1324:
Brief Check in: Another sunny day today, and I hope the day will be a repeat of yesterday, which was extremely productive. For a variety of reasons my afternoon opened up so I got more editing done, some of it actually sitting outside! By the end of the day I had gotten thought two chapters and cut 577 words. Today I do have a tentatively scheduled phone call, but that’s all. I also cleaned and did about an hour of continued decluttering and putting things like bedclothes and such in bags and up out of the way, so that were in the closets we will need to use when we are out our bedroom are now completely clear. And, of course, with each of these sessions I make a few more decisions to weeding out stuff.
Some more summer blooms from this morning’s walk!
Here is the next scene in the short story, and a reminder that if you go HERE, you will see the rest of the scenes published so far.
Dandy Detects: A Victorian San Francisco Story
By M. Louisa Locke, copyright, 2010
Scene 5:
"Mother, I told you, he isn't a mongrel. Georgie's Uncle Sean said he saw a dog just like Dandy back east, and he was a special new kind of dog. Part English bulldog, part English terrier, and part French bull dog." Jamie trotted in front of her, holding Dandy's leash.
Barbara replied, "Well, Jamie, if that isn't a mongrel, I don't know what is. Be careful, don't let him! Oh dear, too late." Dandy, who had been weaving back and forth, his minute black nose snuffling up smells from the wooden planks of the sidewalk, had suddenly swerved right and lifted his leg on a barrel of shoes outside a cobbler’s. At least the dark stain on the barrel attested to Dandy not being the first dog to anoint it. But really, did he have to lift his leg every few feet?
"Mother, I'm telling you, they gave this mixture a name! That makes it a pure breed. Least that's what Georgie's Uncle Sean says, and he's an expert on dogs, Georgie says. His Uncle Sean says that they call dogs like Dandy Boston terriers cause they were made in Boston. But seems to me if Dandy was born in San Francisco, he should be called a San Francisco terrier, don't you think?"
"Well, if you ask me, since he is of English and French heritage but made in America, I think that they should call them American terriers. But it doesn't matter what he is. Dandy's a fine dog." Barbara smiled at her son. Whatever kind of dog Dandy was, he was a blessing. They had had to move so often in the first four years after they left Kansas that Jamie had become quiet and withdrawn. Moving last year to San Francisco was even harder on him. San Francisco was such a big city. The papers said when the 1880 census was taken next year, the city might turn out to have as many as 400,000 people! So much noise and bustle, Jamie had seemed afraid to go outside. Moving to Mrs. Fuller's boarding house last January had helped; everyone was so nice to him. But in the last month since he had rescued Dandy, he had become a new boy. He was making friends, and he had begun to roam the neighborhood on his walks with his dog. She was so relieved, and she felt as long as he had Dandy with him, he would be all right.
"Jamie, wait, let that wagon get past before we cross Jones." Barbara moved to the end of the wooden sidewalk to stand by her son, watching to make sure he had a tight grip on Dandy's leash. It was early Saturday morning, a week since she had run into Mrs. Francis, and they were on their way to visit the resale shop, hoping to find her alone.
"Now I know you aren't very excited about having piano lessons, but I want you to give it a try," Barbara said a few moments later as they approached the resale shop. The windows fronting the sidewalk were jammed with hammers, boxes of nails, iron files, several shovels tied together like some gigantic bouquet, and a saw that looked large enough to fell a redwood. Then she noticed that the shade on the front door was pulled down, and a “closed” sign hung against the shade.
Before she had fully digested this obstacle to her plan, her son, who tugged at her sleeve, distracted her.
"Look at Dandy, Mother. What's the matter with him?"
Barbara looked down and saw that Dandy was standing stock still in front of the iron gate across the entryway to the side of the store, stretched out as long as possible from his pathetically small nose to his equally diminutive crooked tail, and his right front paw was drawn up under his belly. He looked for all the world like some miniature hunter, at point.
"Well, dear, he seems to have found some particularly intriguing scent," she said, trying not to laugh. Then Dandy, growling, began to move stiff-legged towards the gate, and as Barbara came up behind him, she was startled to see the fur at the back of his neck standing up. Her son had knelt beside the dog, looking through the gate and down the side of the house, and he said, "There, there, boy. What do you see? Is there another dog down there?"
Barbara, fully expecting to see Mrs. Francis' Scottie, peered down the narrow passageway, but she saw nothing but an empty brick walkway. Dandy then sat down abruptly and began to howl.
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Good build up of suspense!
Oh, the scenes are getting suspenseful. I'm enjoying the serialized scenes.... but I may just have to buy the whole short story if I can't wait!!