Halloween Confusion

by Betsy Ashton

Betsy Ashton, born in Washington, DC, was raised in Southern California where she ran wild with coyotes in the hills above Malibu. She protested the war in Vietnam, burned her bra for feminism, and is a steadfast Independent. She is a writer, a thinker, the mother of three grown stepchildren, companion and friend. She mentors writers and writes and publishes fiction. Her first mystery, Mad Max Unintended Consequences, was published in February 2013. The second in the series, Uncharted Territory, A Mad Max Mystery, came out in April 2015. In her spare time, she is the president of the state-wide Virginia Writers Club. She loves riding behind her husband on his motorcycle. You’ll have to decide for yourself if and where she has a tattoo.

October 26, 2015

WitchMocha here. I have no idea what Halloween is. My humans don’t do much to celebrate. My human mom hangs a witch on the door. It’s not even scary, if that’s her plan. I think she looks funny. She’s too far off the floor for me to play with. Is that part of my human mom’s idea?? I am not amused.

We live in the country, so little kids don’t dress up and go door-to-door asking for treats. My human dad bought one bag of treats for himself. Meh! But, my human mom makes sure I get my crunchy treats every night.

Two days ago, my human mom scared me. She walked around the house with a yellow stuffed animal on her head. She said it was going to be her costume and that she was dressed as Trump. What’s a Trump? My human dad thought she’d lost her mind. She said the costume was easy to wear. So there!

All day, my human mom works at her computer. She does this every day, all day long. Except when she stops to scratch my ears and let me play innie-outie at the door. I love going outside. I love coming back inside. Sometimes I’m out only a few minutes. My human mom says I should be named Patricia Finnegan, because when I go out, I want to come in again. I’m always on the wrong side of the door. She’s wrong. I’m Mocha. Don’t even try changing my name.

I looked out the window last night. Sometimes a little black kitten comes to visit. My human mom calls him the interloper. I think he wants to play, but when he comes over to visit, he runs when he sees me. So, of course, I chase him. I just want to play, too. He didn’t come over last night. I watched and watched. I don’t know who was on the deck, but my human mom took this picture. What do you think it is?

I hope you have a happy Halloween. I think it’s a kitty celebration. I get the treats I want. And I don’t have to play any tricks. Except prairie dogging this morning to wake my humans up.

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3 Comments

  1. Dean Robertson

    Good morning, Betsy. My poor Isaac has given up ever having a really fabulous Halloween. His human mom has a whole host of significant events that occurred at All Saints–some very good, some not so much, some world-changing. So it’s really a time of reflection for me. I have a lot of “saints” to remember.

    However, I have made a commitment for next year. My cousin Elizabeth has a yearly Big Bash Halloween party at her house–kids galore, adults in costume, too. 2016 will be her 5th year and the word has spread among her boys’ peers (ages 5 and 10) so it’s crowded, loud, and a whole lot of fun. I’m already planning my costume!!

    • betsyashton

      I may dress up for the next Navy home game on Saturday. I can’t decide whether to put a red nose on and go as a sot or put a colander on my head and go as a pastafarian. The jury is out on both.