Showcase Magazine October 2023

CEO

showcase showcase

OCTOBER 2023

Andrew Scott Brooks scott@showcasemagazine.com

EDITORIAL DIRECTOR

Paul Seiple | paul@showcasemagazine.com

GRAPHIC DESIGNER

Kim Demont | demontdesign@verizon.net

FINANCE MANAGER

Cindy Astin | cindy@showcasemagazine.com

ADVERTISING

Lee Vogler | Director of Sales and Marketing lee@showcasemagazine.com | 434.548.5335

Emily Wilkerson | Executive Assistant emily@showcasemagazine.com

753 Main Street #3, Danville, VA 24541 Phone 434.709.7349 info@showcasemagazine.com www.showcasemagazine.com

CONTRIBUTING WRITERS

Paulette Dean | Houston C Galahad | Barry Koplen

Rachael Miller | Jeannette M Ross | Paul Seiple | Lee Vogler

CONTRIBUTING PHOTOGRAPHERS

Lee Vogler

COVER A vintage falloween

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Once home to the city’s iconic Danville Register Bee newspaper building – reimagined for today’s traveler.

FEATURES & AMENITIES:

Free high-speed WiFi | Mini-fridge and Microwave

Keurig Coffee Maker | Premium Bath Amenities

Iron and Ironing Board | Pet-friendly | Fitness Center

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Large Apartment Style Suites Available

420 Patton Street | Danville, Virginia 24541

T: 434-234-9440 www.danvillebeehotel.com

Frozen in Fear

BY LEE VOGLER

Paralyzed. That’s how I felt. But beyond that, I felt a sense of fear and dread that is hard to put into words. It was that deep, down to your bones type of fear that you rarely feel in life, but in this moment, it had consumed me.

But I did. Was it a demon? An alien? Or something else entirely? To this day, I don’t know. But the paralyzing fear I felt at that moment is something I’ll never forget.

The Lady in the Snow

BY HOUSTON C GALAHAD

Iwas still shaking when I heard my wife trot down the stairs of our home. I held a trembling cup of coffee in my hand, ripples radiating through it as if caught in an earthquake.

A ghostly, light snow slowly drifted from the aether above.

I trudged on, the crunch of the snow

FEATURE THE LADY IN THE SNOW

Continued from Page 9

“I’m too young to be seeing things!” I scolded myself. The sun was sinking like a stone thrown into a lake. A few minutes later, I saw another shadow, this time closer. I opened the blind a bit more to get a better view. It moved slowly, lumbering through the thicket. I grabbed my binoculars and squinted through them.

It was a person!

Thinking it was another hunter, I whistled, “Hey buddy! You need some blaze orange or something!”

The shadow never even looked my way but kept trudging through the deep snow. I got worried. The way he was limping, he could have seriously been hurt and needed help. I couldn’t call myself a good person if I didn’t go check on him, so I put my gun down and trekked towards the thicket.

The silhouette meandered through the trees, just out of reach. I called out time-after-time but got nothing in response. I started running after it, nearly face-planting into a snowbank. As I gained on the shadow, I realized it wasn’t another hunter, but a woman in a flowing dress. I couldn’t see her face, only her raven black hair that cascaded like a river of silk down her back.

“Ma’am, you’re going to freeze to death. Let me help you. I used to be a firefighter.”

Still, without flinching, she glided through the snow just out of reach. There was a clearing just ahead. I swiped a prickly branch away from my face and bounded into the glade.

She was gone.

I cupped my hands to my mouth. “Hello!?” I howled.

The only answer was the sweep of wind across the pristine winter landscape. The rugged shape of a chimney at the far edge caught my eye, and like a magnet, it pulled me in. The chimney was old and cracked, barely holding itself together. It swayed cautiously as the wind’s fury assaulted it. Splinters of an antique wooden floor reduced to mere toothpicks

popped above the snow, desperately clinging to the light of day.

I ran my hand along the bricks of the ruins, imagining what this house might have looked like in its glory days. A piercing sob quickly cut into my daydreaming.

I spun around, “H-hey!!” I screeched.

The sobbing grew louder. It seemed to emanate from every direction, even from the stony gray sky above. The snow suddenly began falling harder, pelting me with wet, heavy flakes. A wicked screech came from behind me as a bony, icy hand touched my shoulder. I jumped and turned to see the lady standing there. I stumbled backward in terror. Her face was pale and cracked, black hollow eyes bored into mine, her arms swung lifelessly at her side. Her dress was sky blue and torn to shreds, her legs and feet were missing. She just hovered in front of me, her hair waving in the snowbound breeze. She opened her mouth and screeched again, which knocked me out of my stupor.

I bolted back through the woods. Brambles and branches bombarded my body and tore my face like razors. The screeching and sobbing surrounded me. I didn’t stop to get my rifle. I ran until my feet hit my front steps. I spent the rest of the night pacing around, trying to make sense of it all. My skin burned where the wraith touched me. I slowly peeled back my shirt to take a look. The skin was cracked and blackened… frostbite. I didn’t sleep at all that night.

My wife’s eyes widened, her eyebrow cocked. “Um... okay... You haven’t been drinking, have you?” she groaned.

I yanked my hand away. “I haven’t brought home a drink in years!” I protested. “But I think I might have brought her home with me…”

My wife’s nose crinkled. “Why would you think that?” She snorted.

I leaned down and looked into her eyes before I whispered, “Because she’s in the window behind you.”

Overdue

BY RACHAEL MILLER

Star walked a few steps behind Elise through the high bookshelves, following along and watching her carefully. She heard a meek voice behind her.

“Excuse me, Miss.”

She turned to see a man holding an old book. His shoulders were slumped. He looked to be about thirty.

“Yes,

can I help you?” Star answered.

The man looked a little startled.

Elise turned with a curious lift of her eyebrow and stood back to watch. Her eyes were focused on that book clutched in his arms.

The man continued, “I’m so glad I’ve finally found someone who can help.” He said, cradling the book like a cherished heirloom.

“Of course, “ Star replied, trying to keep her voice calm and reassuring. “What can I do for you?”

The man hesitantly held the book out. It was an old title, but it looked well cared for, as though it hadn’t circulated many times. “I need to return this book, “ he admitted in a stressed tone. “It’s twenty-two years overdue. I’m so sorry,” he stammered.

Star smiled and reached for the book carefully. “I completely understand,” she said in that same caring tone. “We know these things happen. Don’t worry at all. We’re glad you got it back to us.”

The man looked relieved. His shoulders straightened, and the stress seemed to lift. “Oh, thank you, Ma’am. You’re so kind.”

Star just smiled again and nodded. “It’s not a problem at all. If you need anything else, you just let me know.”

The man thanked her a few more times before turning down an aisle and fading out of sight.

Elise gave her a searching look. “Was that one of them?” She asked incredulously.

Star nodded, looking down at the book. “It was. He was returning this book. It’s twenty-two years old.”

Elise looked shocked. “Well, better late than never, I suppose. It is in great condition,” she said, taking it from Star. “We will put it back in the system.”

Star followed behind her again. “Imagine dying and hanging around twenty years just to return a book,” she remarked.

“It’s a bit extreme,” Star agreed.

Elise shrugged. “So, what is it like being able to see ghosts?” she asked casually.

Star shrugged. “Always interesting, I guess.”

Long After I Left My Body

BY BARRY KOPLEN

Although I hadn’t heard from him in a while, I was glad he thought to call when he did. Allen and his wife were on their way to Atlanta.

“Let’s go to dinner. At a place that has the Atlanta game on TV,” he said. Judging by the playful urgency in his voice, I wasn’t surprised that he wanted me to meet him at Kickback Jacks, a sports-bar restaurant.

Crowded and noisy, it was a place I’d always avoided. But I also knew that Allen didn’t have time to wait in line for a table. That’s why I agreed to meet there; I knew we’d probably leave to find a quieter place.

And we did. Three minutes later, we parked at Ruby Tuesday, a cozy place where there were as many waitresses as there were busy tables.

After we were seated, one of them approached me. “Aren’t you Mr. Koplen?”

When I nodded, she reminded me she had been one of my students. “I loved your class,” she said. “It wasn’t boring like the others. You made it interesting.”

I thanked her and asked whether she was still going to school. “Soon,” she said, “I’ll go back and take more classes.” Then she said goodbye to attend to one of her tables. Ours wasn’t one of them.

Sitting next to me and across from Allen and his wife, was a fellow alum of Allen’s from UVA. Just before they’d started talking sports at the Kickbacks’ parking lot, he’d handed Allen a folded sheet of paper, just after being introduced to me.

I watched as Allen unfolded it. It was a flyer that advertised my book, No Gold Stars! Was that more than a coincidence? I didn’t know, and there was no one to ask. Still, it was too unusual not to consider for a while.

But I didn’t have long for that. Allen asked whether I remembered meeting one of his classmates at a UVA football game I’d attended a few years ago with Allen and his wife.

“He sat in front of us,” Allen said. “He was a publisher. And I asked him to contact you about your book.” He watched me shake my head. I remembered, but the publisher’s call never came.

“I’m sorry about that,” Allen said. “I found out that he doesn’t publish your kind of book.”

I wasn’t disappointed; people who are known to be publishers get bombarded by everyone who writes or who knows a writer.

“He’s retired,” Allen continued. “But he told me his biggest selling book was written by Robert Monroe…”

“Far Journeys,” I interrupted. “I met Bob Monroe. In fact, I went to one of his weeklong seminars.”

It was his turn to be surprised. And my turn to reflect on a conversation I’d had a week earlier in Santa Fe, New Mexico.

In a very real sense, Allen and I ventured in different directions for a few minutes. He turned to his cell phone to get crucial details about the WashingtonAtlanta baseball game. Since he lived near D.C., he was dismayed that Washington was losing before a rain delay stopped the game.

While he discussed that, I reflected on the fact that, of all the books in the world, Allen had mentioned Bob Monroe’s, the same one I’d heard about while talking with a hypnotherapist named Roman at a jewelry store in Santa Fe.

“I give that book to everyone,” Roman had said. That’s when I told him I’d met Bob Monroe.

What I didn’t tell him was about the out-of-body

experience I’d had at the weeklong seminar at the Monroe Institute. Learning how to leave one’s body was what the seminar was all about.

At the Institute, we met in the cafeteria prior to our “sessions.” Those took place in our bedroom. As we lay by ourselves in our canopied bed, Bob Monroe would play special tapes he’d created to facilitate our extraordinary meditations. Following his directions, we would go deeper and deeper into a trance-like state. Our bodies and our spirits would seem weightless and unbound to each other.

Whether my eyes were open, I don’t recall. All that I knew was I saw a face, glowing and smiling, hovering above my bed. I watched for a short while without being alarmed because I recognized the face. It was that of an attractive

woman about my age who I’d seen earlier in the cafeteria.

When our session ended, we returned to the cafeteria. There, we talked about our experiences during our meditation. I was reluctant to mention mine because I thought my imagination had been playing tricks.

That’s why I sat in silence as others spoke.

During a pause in the comments, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned and saw the women who I had ‘seen’…the same one who had hovered over my bed.

“I came to visit you. Did you see me?” she asked.

“Rain delay is over!” Allen announced.

I snapped back to our conversation at the table. No one seemed to notice how far my mind had wandered…

Spirits of the Cream

BY JEANNETTE M ROSS

Shortly before the Fourth of July, disturbances were heard and seen at the top of Main Street near Bobo’s Ice Cream Stand. Reports of moaning and what was described as tapping on glass. Some said they noticed reflections of smoke-like figures. Tempting descriptions of the deliciously frozen concoctions remained in perfect condition on the windows.

After renovating what had been a car wash, Bobo’s Homemade Ice Cream moved a few miles from its original building. Throngs of fans began lining up the very first day.

After a successful day, the sign was turned off and the parking lot emptied. Behind the building was deserted and dark. It could be said that no living humans were there. A short distance behind the building was a fence separating it from some apartment buildings.

About a week after the opening, reports of moaning and groaning outside Bobo’s were made from some of the apartment residents. Staff reported slimy

substances on the outside of the order window. The tables out front of the building had similar substances. Every day the same slimy substance was encountered.

Jimmy, an employee, complained about the mess having to be cleaned up each morning. He turned to Dolly, the manager, and commented on the situation, “I sure wish we could catch the scoundrels making this mess every single night!”

She replied, “I’ve looked at it and I can’t determine what in the world it is. It’s not just slimy, it leaves a smokey film, too.”

“Someone should set up surveillance outside the store at night,” Jimmy suggested.

Momma Bobo, the owner operator, replied,“Anyone here know how to set up cameras?”

She added: “Well, this discussion has to wait for now, it’s opening time.” The day started out just like every other day until…

Continued from Page 13

Suddenly, all the car horns started going off! Then, only one at a time down the entire parking lot and back again as though they were computer programmed to do it. All the staff ran outside to see what was happening.

Jimmy yelled, “Should we call the law?”

Then, just as swiftly as it began, it stopped!

Momma Bobo was the first to re-enter the building, but what she saw stopped her dead in her tracks. Staff stepped in behind her and couldn’t believe what they were seeing. The freezers were open and ice cream was dripping from the empty shelves. Cones which had been neatly stacked were strewn throughout the room, sprinkles, dots, and a variety of toppings were even on the ceiling!

“What a mess!” Dolly exclaimed, nearly pulling out her hair. “Where do we start to get this place back in order to open for business today? I’ll have to tell customers we’ll be 2 hours late opening. We’ll give them all a 50 percent discount if they come back later.”

She grabbed Bobo’s business cards and quickly marked each one with a red X and distributed them to the customers in cars.

“The slime on the windows and tables outside has to be washed,” Dolly said after regaining her composure. She began directing the staff. “Let’s get moving! You all know which jobs are your responsibility.”

Exhausted and frustrated, the staff finished all the clean up just barely in time to open for business. Nothing unusual happened for the rest of the day.

Everyone was sworn to silence regarding the other worldly events of the morning to not upset the neighborhood or the potential customers. And, despite the difficulties of the day, clean-up after close of business was especially meticulous.

The lights were turned off as usual and the sign shut off. The parking lot was dark and empty.

An elderly resident of the apartments stayed up that night and watched for any suspicious activity. He set up his phone to video the parking lot, and sat in a chair drinking coffee to make a night of it. After watching diligently for a few hours, he fell asleep in the chair.

Suddenly, a commotion woke him. He jumped to his feet, nearly knocking the camera over. He looked out the window. What he saw was frightening.

Smokey figures were dancing on the roof of Bobo’s place. A strange music permeated the air Then, as if on cue, the dance ended, and the music drifted off.

He slapped himself on the cheek as if he needed to wake up. “What in the name of Beelzebub did I just see?” He picked up the phone to check the video. “What?! There’s nothing but smoke and something dripping on the video.”

The smokey figures were not visible, nor were they on the roof any longer.

The next morning, he went over to Bobo’s after they opened. He went to the order window and asked to speak to the person in charge.

Dolly came over. “How can I help you, sir?”

“I wanted you to know I attempted to video any occurrence here last night. I saw something that I can’t explain. I’ll show it to you, if you like.”

She said, “Of course I would.”

The man pulled out his phone and went to the photos to find the video.

IT WAS GONE!

He shouted, “What kind of craziness is this? There’s nothing here now.”

Dolly just shook her head and walked away, saying, “Thanks for trying, sir.”

As far as anyone knows, none of this has occurred again, but everyone keeps waiting and telling the story of the spirits of the cream.

FEATURE SPIRITS OF THE CREAM

Boarded Up

BY PAUL SEIPLE

“This tout is boring. These are not real ghost stories. It’s all made up.”

Heather Dunne paused from giving the history of a massive house on the corner of Main. “You think these stories are made up?”

The kid smirked. “I’d have a better chance of seeing Bigfoot in that park…” He pointed across the road. “…than seeing a ghost in there.”

Heather bit her bottom lip. Maybe not Bigfoot, but I definitely see a troll, she thought. She wanted to respond, but the best policy with trolls was not to feed them.

“What about The Oscar House? Let’s go there.”

Heather had given this haunted tour for several years. The Oscar House was the headliner. It was an old brick building that had been home to many businesses throughout the years. But its history was rooted in one event… the disappearance of Billy and Stuart Oscar on Halloween night in 1976.

Usually, there were a few more stops before the Oscar House. But Heather was familiar with the blonde kid’s tactics. He was set to ruin it for everyone.

“What’s your name?” Heather asked. “Thorn.”

Heather doubted that was the kid’s name, but she went with it. “OK, Thorn, you want to go to the Oscar House. Come on.”

She told the story of Billy, a fourteen-year-old and his brother, Stuart, two years younger.

“I heard the old man who owned that building did something with those kids,” a girl said, moving to the front of the group.

“Unless he was a ghost, that’s not possible.” Heather let a slight laugh escape. “He died two years before they disappeared. The building was being remodeled. Billy and Stuart snuck in by prying the door open.”

“Maybe the River Street Stalker got them,” another girl said as she caught up to her friend.

“Nope. The River Street Stalker wasn’t a real person. Just an urban legend some adults made up to get their children home by dark.” Heather stopped in front of the three-story building, now occupied by a dentist and several other businesses.

“It doesn’t look haunted,” the first girl said.

Thorn laughed. “That’s because it isn’t.”

“There’s something strange around back.” Heather motioned for the kids to follow her down an alley.

The back of the building was dimly lit by a flickering pole light. A dying bulb gave off a dizzying strobe effect. The bat swooping in to catch a moth capped off the end of spooky season.

“OK, this is a bit creepy.” Alice held her friend’s hand.

Heather took a flashlight from a bag draped over her shoulder. “This is what’s really creepy.” She shined the light at the second story of the brick building. The light reflected off a window. A window that was boarded up from the inside.

“What is that?” Alice asked.

“Legend has it they boarded the window up after Billy and Stuart went missing.” Heather held the light steady at the window. “And here is something stranger. On the inside, there is no hint of this window. It’s a solid wall.”

“And how is this scary?” Thorn asked.

Alice didn’t wait for Heather to answer. “Why is the window boarded up?”

“The Serpens came for those boys.” A tall, slender man separated himself from the group.

Alice grabbed her friend. They moved behind Heather.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you. But I knew Billy and Stuart Oscar. I told them to stay away from this place at night. Unfortunately, they did not listen.”

“What is the Serpens?” Alice asked.

“A distant cousin of Bigfoot, probably.” Thorn laughed at his joke.

The man didn’t find it amusing. “The Serpens, also known as the Crawler or Creeper, is a creature from another dimension that feeds off the souls of this world. It was said that window is a portal to his dimension.”

Glass rattling stole everyone’s attention from the man.

“Did that come from the window?” Alice asked.

Heather flashed the light on the window. There was nothing there but a brick wall behind the glass. The rattle happened again. A light breeze that eased everyone’s mind followed it.

“As long as the window stays boarded up, the Serpens cannot return to this world.” The man slipped back into the group.

“You expect us to believe that? That guy’s a plant. He’s working with her.” Thorn’s voice was shaky.

“Where did he go?” Alice weaved through the group.

“He’s not here.”

An uneasy feeling clung to Heather like the subtle wind. The man was no plant. He wasn’t part of the tour. But there was something familiar about him. She grabbed her phone and searched for the previous owner of the Oscar House before the boys went missing. The photo robbed Heather of her breath. The picture was of the man who had stood beside her minutes earlier. Angus Lester, who had died two years before the Oscar brothers went missing.

Heather gained a semblance of composure. “OK, that concludes the tour. It’s getting late. Everyone get home safely.”

Two Hours Later

Thorn lay in bed, tossing-and-turning. There was something about the strange man’s words that he couldn’t shake.

“It’s a group of actors. He was one of them.” Thorn’s words were barely above a whisper, as if he was keeping a secret to himself.

“Right? I mean, the Serpens? I’ve never heard of that.”

Thunder rattled his bedroom window. Rain poured. Flashes of lightning danced across the night sky, courting the clouds. An image of the boarded-up window imprinted on Thorn’s thoughts. The story the old man told couldn’t have been true, but Billy and Stuart weighed heavily on Thorn. What really happened to them?

Another thunder boom and the glass vibrated. A pang of fear latched onto Thorn’s spine. He sat up. Fear turned into all-out terror and washed over him as four small handprints appeared on the outside of the window. Thorn blinked fast, trying to drown out the image. The hands disappeared.

Thorn let out a deep sigh.

A finger reappeared at the window and wrote through the mist covering the glass. Run. He is coming.

Confessions of a 30 Something Fall Is In The Air

BY LEE VOGLER

PHOTO BY LEE VOGLER

The leaves are turning a beautiful shade of orange before falling to the ground, filling yards and streets with piles of fun for kids of all ages. A chill in the air has slowly crept in. Friday nights are filled with buzzing light poles and packed stands for high school football games. Yes, fall is here.

While I enjoy the warmth and wet fun that summer brings, I am a big fan of the fall season. In fact, it is probably my favorite time of the year. As a sports fan, it is the perfect time for sports to come together: football is starting, followed soon by basketball and hockey, and Major League Baseball is heading towards the World Series. There is always some kind of big game to watch in the world of sports every day of the week.

like riding in the back seat of my dad’s car on the way to the Blairs Haunted House while listening to Bob Seger’s The Fire Inside album almost 30 years ago. Big things like winning football (and baseball) championships. I associate these things with Autumn, and it is hard for me not to get excited when this time of year arrives.

Blair and I have had a lot of fun with the kids over the years getting dressed up for Halloween and trick-or-treating across neighborhoods in Danville. That, in my opinion, is still the best way to experience Halloween. I try to enjoy these moments with my kids as much as possible because it won’t be long until they’ll be wanting to do their own thing on Halloween, rather than hanging out with dear old mom and dad. But for

Falloween is in the Air

The spooky season has arrived. Here are some events in our area to help you get in the spirit.

Bookends: Of Ghosts & Stories (October 13th from 7p9p at Crema & Vine) is an annual storytelling event. The evening includes live music from The League of Ordinary Gentlemen, Dr. Fred Motley as the emcee, Dr. Joshua Hearne as the featured storyteller, and various performances of spooky stories, poems, monologues, and more from local talent.

BookEnds, First Baptist

Smokestack Theatre Co.: Ghosts & Gravestones

Historical Tours (October. ) are stories told are historical, but with an artistic flair thanks to a collaboration of multiple local artists. Writers, directors, actors, costumers, historians, makeup artists, set designers, light designers, and more all contribute to bring history to life.

Ghosts & Gravestones Last Rites On Stage (October 22) brings the characters from the tour to the Smokestack stage, so that you can enjoy the same stories sitting comfortably indoors.

Smokestack Cinema presents classic films. On Friday the 13th there will be two showings of Friday the 13th Part III. On Halloween, the classic comedy Ernest Scared Stupid and later in the evening, they will play the Alfred Hitchcock classic, Psycho

(October 6 from 6p-9p) is a murder mystery dinner.

(October 20-22) is based off of the classic novel by Bram Stoker.

Smokestake presents Misery (last weekend in October) Based on the book by Stephen King, this show features adult content including language, intense scenes, and gore. Special effects artists, pyrotechnicians, and fight choreographers will be behind the scenes to bring this show to life.

Collidescope: “Hallowqueen” Drag Show is a free event

that takes place at Ballad Brewing.

Dia de los Muertos Block Party (November 3 downtown Danville) In addition to the block party, there will be a photography exhibition up that week and lasting the few weeks after the event by Michael Andrews who documented the authentic Dia de los Muertos in Mexico.

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Paws for a Cause

WRITTEN BY PAULETTE DEAN, EXECUTIVE DIRECTOR DANVILLE HUMANE SOCIETY

A couple of weeks ago, I saw a post on a community page on Facebook. A young woman and her boyfriend wanted a black kitten. Some people suggested she visit local shelters and others said they knew of people who had a variety of kittens. A couple of people commented about the dangers for black cats this time of year.

In the past, very few shelters would adopt out black cats around Halloween. That has changed and shelters are now criticized if they do not adopt out black cats until after Halloween. The thought is that all of the horror stories are anecdotal. Our policy remains intact; we remain cautious.

Of course the stories are anecdotal. Works of darkness are not done in the view of public.

MEET EDITH

For years, I have told everyone that I hate Halloween. I hate the way we start receiving calls about lost black cats before Halloween, I hate the gruesome costumes, and I hate knowing what I know about the “holiday.” Many years ago, Lynn Shelton (board president and humane investigator) and I attended a local workshop about cult rituals. Some of the pictures and slides still haunt me, and when I wake up in the middle of the night with them on my mind, prayer is the only thing that erases them.

Even if cult rituals were not true, Halloween can be a scary time for pets. They are very routine-oriented, and can be upset by the parties and trick-or-treaters. They can also become frightened by the costumes. We recommend that pet owners take the following precautions:

Keep your pets inside, away from all Halloween activities. They can feel threatened by the sight of the costumes, and frequently opened doors provide an opportunity for escape. Make

sure all pets wear collars with identification tags just in case.

Do not give in to the temptation to let your pets have candy. Candy can be harmful to them, and chocolate is toxic to dogs, cats, and ferrets.

If you use candles in jack-olanterns, make sure your pet stays away. Accidents can happen, and the candles can quickly burn or set fire to a pet’s fur. Playful pets can become entangled in hanging decorations like streamers, and other decorations can be a choking hazard.

It may sound like a cute idea to take your dog with you for trick-or-treating, but a dog could become frightened or confused by the noise and costumes. A dog bite or lost dog will end the fun.

Every outside animal is at risk for being hurt by pranksters or cruel people, but black cats are especially at risk during this time of year. If you do have a black cat, the safest place for him for a couple of weeks before Halloween is right by your side.

Extra precautions are needed to protect all of your pets during this time.

DANVILLE HUMANE SOCIETY

If Eddie Munster were a girl cat, this would be her school picture.

Games Solutions

Continued from Page 20

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