“Oscar the Prince of Cats”.

Hello, everybody, this is my third post. My name is Ed. But you could call me by my. Pseudo name. Which is Stan Strikolas . I’m a dyslexic person, and I had an undiagnosed dyslexia. Diagnosed at the age of 32 and as a result, had a new lease on life. I have been writing since I was 11 years old and, as a result, have thousands and thousands of pages of material in which the advent of new technology is caught up with what my brain. I’m writing to you in a stream of consciousness because this is my style. Because this is what I say, and this is how I say it.
I’ve written 40 plays. Seven novels. The children’s book, poetry. And short stories. It’s a musical I’m slowly working on now, too. I thank God for artificial intelligence. Or AI, as they call it. Because it helps me write and collect my thoughts. Before this, I would hack away at a typewriter and make unintelligible, illegible marks. On the page, but now. It’s more comprehensive. Every week, I’ll give you a little story. This week, a story will be worked into a children’s book and called

part one
Adventures of Brutus and Visker toddler.
To the rest of the world, he looked fierce. He could tear your lungs out with one bite if you walked on his territory unwelcomed. To the kids at Ellsworth Street, he was just the dog, Brutus. They got them young, maybe a one-year-old pup. At the same time, they also got a young kitten named Visker toddler. The German Shepherd and the little cat instantly bonded and slept together in the doghouse. The retaining wall well defined the property. That stretched the length of the property on Clizbe and Ellsworth. “Stop, advance and give the countersign,” Brutus would say. Of course, humans can’t understand dog talk, so all they heard was a series of barks. But the barks were ferocious enough for people to stop. Brutus had to smell you; if you were a friend, you could pass. Oh, by the way, he always knew who the friends were. Viskar Toddler could also communicate in dog talk. After all, she was a brilliant cat. As Brutus stuck strictly to the wall and the perimeter, Visker would go on Recon across the Street and down to the pond where there were many fish and birds. Coming back to the doghouse, she’d report vital information about squirrel activity and chipmunk gatherings to Brutus.
The only serious threat to the guards of the wall was the blue man. The man in the blue suit with a blue bag seems to come and go as he pleases and puts letters in a black box. He refused to give the countersign despite Brutus repeatedly telling him to do that. Visker would prowl the neighborhoods, find out where the Blue Man was, and report back to the doghouse. One day the humans forgot to put Brutus on the chain leash and found out Blue Man was coming. Brutus sat in the doghouse, waiting for his chance. Suddenly the Blue Man went down the Street on the other side of the wall. Brutus decided to advance to the edge of the wall, giving his barks. The Blue Man stopped but did not cross. Brutus, would not cross the wall, staying on his side of the wall, so a Mexican standoff began
“This is interesting,” Visker said. “What’s going on now?”
“Well, as long as he doesn’t cross the wall, I can’t smell him,” Brutus responded. “Well, what do you want me to do,” Visker said. “I can’t stand around here all day. I’ve got birds and chipmunks to watch.” Brutus was showing his teeth, which were very white and very large. “I’ll try to approach the Blue Man,” Visker said. “He doesn’t look very dangerous to me.” “All right, just be careful,” Brutus responded. Visker walked up to the Blue Man, and he responded by petting her. Brutus saw this as an act of respect, so he stopped barking and backed down, “Ok blue man, you can advance for now,” Brutus said, “but we’ll be overseeing you.”