Things have a way of working out swimmingly for our skeleton friend Slim, especially on Halloween.  Merrily and swiftly, he piloted his pack to Charlottesville without incident, arriving at UVA with plenty of time for trick-or-treating on the Lawn.  In a costume-wearing crowd, the unadorned authenticity of the group stood out.  Slim was greeted as a celebrity (as he typically is, wherever he goes).  Our daughter, who was there with friends, soon spotted her old buddy, the center of attention in a multitude of admirers. 

D was dressed as Barf the Dog from the movie Spaceballs.  She wore my 1980s Banana Republic khaki jumpsuit, furry ears and the appropriate make-up.  Slim approved, as he’s an avid Mel Brooks fan, and the pack welcomed her as one of their own.  

Kiko rapidly got his fill of the festivities and the press of the throng.  He retreated to the shelter of a stately column and resumed his nap.   And as for costumes, he says no.  Since submitting reluctantly to an ill-fitting red fleece vest (made by my mother without access to any actual measurements) for his first Christmas card photo, he wears only his own fur.  Should he encounter a costume-wearing canine, more than a trace of condescension is evident as he sniffs a greeting. 

Slim, ever the people person, could have mixed and mingled until the wee hours, but he honors his commitments.  Just as his faithful lead dog, Fluffy, was about to point out the time, Slim began to say his goodbyes.  The Crew was needed back in Northern Virginia.  They would not disappoint.  I’ve learned not to doubt my friend’s word.  His integrity is beyond reproach.  Plus, he seems to be able to bend time according to his whim.  Just as I was putting the tea lights in our jack-o-lantern votives, the car zipped up the driveway. 

The gang hopped out and assumed their places.  They’re good at freezing in position, so as not to frighten the unsuspecting.  Kiko looked out the storm door to assess the situation, sighed and retired to the sofa.  The night was only just beginning for Slim and the Crew.  But Kiko can only take so much Halloween. 

Until next year, folks!  Goodnight! 

Halloween season is in full swing, as is our Skeleton Crew of merry mirth-makers.  In early October, Slim and the pups emerged from eleven months of quiet repose and restorative rumination in the shadowy comfort of my mother’s basement. 

For the past few weeks, they’ve enjoyed roaming from our house to hers, snacking, lounging, soaking up sunshine as well as rain.  They savor weather in all its forms.  Slim, widely renowned as a scintillating conversationalist and acute observer of the human condition, has considerable wisdom to impart. 

With the tiniest bit of coaxing (or sometimes none at all), he delves into his endless cache of beguiling tales and truly ripping yarns.  As my father would say, that skinny guy “really can talk.” 

When the month is winding down, the gang is gearing up.  They’re  more than ready to let loose their insouciant charm and plunge full-throttle into fall festivity.  High-jinks ensue. 

While Kiko enjoys smallish doses of the company of his furless friends, their boundless enthusiasm tends to grate on his nerves.  In the very top photo, he has sought out an isolated patch of sun by the garage.  Before long, though, the pack is upon him again.   

These puppies will never grow up, he sighs.  How tedious it is to be the object of so much unbridled adoration.  What’s a senior dog to do?  

Perhaps with an absence of encouragement, they’ll lose interest.   

And then Slim suggests a spin in his favorite vehicle.  Top down, of course.  Gotta feel the cool autumn breeze in one’s silky locks.  With a knowing look he turns to Kiko and asks: Why not head down to Charlottesville and check in with your sister, old man?  We’ll be back before the trick-or-treaters arrive.  

The college kids love Slim.  Plus, he’s an architecture buff.  And a tad vain.  The Lawn and Rotunda, dressed in fall foliage, will serve as a striking backdrop for photographing his good looks.  Also, he and Mr. Jefferson were kids together, back in the day.   

Kiko needs no further nudging.  He’s stirring and stretching, preparing for a full-body shake.  He remembers why he loves this garrulous guy after all, and why it bodes well to tolerate his pack of yippy beasts.  Halloween joyride!

At last, the top dog can finally get some serious shuteye. 

Happy Halloween, everyone!

For previous Skeleton Crew posts from years past, see here.