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Lea Beall
Goodreads Author
Born
Las Cruces, NM, The United States
Website
Genre
Influences
John Erickson, Edna St. Vincent Millay, Emily DIckinson, George Eliot
Member Since
August 2015
More books by Lea Beall…
Book Giveaway Contest!!
Hi everyone! I'm having a Book Giveaway to celebrate a new book release. The winner will receive two books, my latest book:Learning Lore Letters: an ABC Workbook AND my first book: The Stinkaroo Dog and the Forbidden Portal There will be five winners. You can go to this link to enter.
https://www.leabeall.com/give-away-co...
Learning Lore Letters is my new ABC Workbook. It has tracing letters for Read more of this blog post »
https://www.leabeall.com/give-away-co...
Learning Lore Letters is my new ABC Workbook. It has tracing letters for Read more of this blog post »
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“Mom calls me Patch-a-roo and Patch-a-roo-ny. She usually croons these names to me or crows them as if she’s imitating the rooster. I know this is a little odd, but I’m a really special dog. Of course, sometimes she calls me Stink-a-roo.”
― The Stinkaroo Dog and the Forbidden Portal
― The Stinkaroo Dog and the Forbidden Portal
“I wasn’t getting along with Trouble and for good reason. He strolled over and made a snide remark.
“Patches,” he meowed, “why do you look so worried? Has Santa got you on the Naughty List this year? Oh, look, someone left some muddy shoes by the back door. Meowr.”
“GRmpf.” I snarled.
“Oh. And is this a Patch-of-mud on the doormat?” mewed Trouble.
“Look, Cat,” I said, “My status with Santa is a private affair. Someone with a name like yours shouldn’t be pointing paws!”
“That’s so. That’s so,” he purred. “Pointing paws usually lead to flying fur and the need for hair ex-ten-sions.” Trouble did say things that made sense sometimes, in a weird sort of way. (He was trying to mes-mer-ize me with those purrs, but it wouldn’t work).
“Purr--cise-ly. Oh, uh-hum, I meant to say, pre-cise-ly,” I growled, “So let’s drop the subject.” Then he PURRED at me.”
― Once Upon A Dreamland Christmas
“Patches,” he meowed, “why do you look so worried? Has Santa got you on the Naughty List this year? Oh, look, someone left some muddy shoes by the back door. Meowr.”
“GRmpf.” I snarled.
“Oh. And is this a Patch-of-mud on the doormat?” mewed Trouble.
“Look, Cat,” I said, “My status with Santa is a private affair. Someone with a name like yours shouldn’t be pointing paws!”
“That’s so. That’s so,” he purred. “Pointing paws usually lead to flying fur and the need for hair ex-ten-sions.” Trouble did say things that made sense sometimes, in a weird sort of way. (He was trying to mes-mer-ize me with those purrs, but it wouldn’t work).
“Purr--cise-ly. Oh, uh-hum, I meant to say, pre-cise-ly,” I growled, “So let’s drop the subject.” Then he PURRED at me.”
― Once Upon A Dreamland Christmas
“Look. This is a Christmas tree. It’s a decoration. Why do you think everything is a toy, Cat?”
“I thought it was a toy ball, not a toy cat, and this thing here looks like a mouse-toy,” Trouble said, pointing to a mouse dressed in elf clothes that hung on the tree.
“That is a toy mouse, not a mouse-toy for cats!” I said sternly.
“What’s the difference?” said Roger, poking at it and getting it swinging.
Trouble added in wonder, “You think the people of the house did not put this mouse and these balls here for us to play with?”
“Yes ….”
“So we’re playing. What’s the problem?”
“No, Cat!” I stammered. “I mean. Yes, they did not.”
Roger-That said, “I think you are confused black and white Patch Dog.”
Finally, I said, “I am finished with this head-ache!”
Trouble said, “Ok. What head-ache do you want?”
“No. I mean you are the head-ache.”
“Wrong.” he said, “I am Trouble.”
“You got that right, Cat!” I said. “You should watch what comes out of your mouth!”
“At least what comes out of my mouth isn’t dog drool!”
―
“I thought it was a toy ball, not a toy cat, and this thing here looks like a mouse-toy,” Trouble said, pointing to a mouse dressed in elf clothes that hung on the tree.
“That is a toy mouse, not a mouse-toy for cats!” I said sternly.
“What’s the difference?” said Roger, poking at it and getting it swinging.
Trouble added in wonder, “You think the people of the house did not put this mouse and these balls here for us to play with?”
“Yes ….”
“So we’re playing. What’s the problem?”
“No, Cat!” I stammered. “I mean. Yes, they did not.”
Roger-That said, “I think you are confused black and white Patch Dog.”
Finally, I said, “I am finished with this head-ache!”
Trouble said, “Ok. What head-ache do you want?”
“No. I mean you are the head-ache.”
“Wrong.” he said, “I am Trouble.”
“You got that right, Cat!” I said. “You should watch what comes out of your mouth!”
“At least what comes out of my mouth isn’t dog drool!”
―
“Mom calls me Patch-a-roo and Patch-a-roo-ny. She usually croons these names to me or crows them as if she’s imitating the rooster. I know this is a little odd, but I’m a really special dog. Of course, sometimes she calls me Stink-a-roo.”
― The Stinkaroo Dog and the Forbidden Portal
― The Stinkaroo Dog and the Forbidden Portal
“I wasn’t getting along with Trouble and for good reason. He strolled over and made a snide remark.
“Patches,” he meowed, “why do you look so worried? Has Santa got you on the Naughty List this year? Oh, look, someone left some muddy shoes by the back door. Meowr.”
“GRmpf.” I snarled.
“Oh. And is this a Patch-of-mud on the doormat?” mewed Trouble.
“Look, Cat,” I said, “My status with Santa is a private affair. Someone with a name like yours shouldn’t be pointing paws!”
“That’s so. That’s so,” he purred. “Pointing paws usually lead to flying fur and the need for hair ex-ten-sions.” Trouble did say things that made sense sometimes, in a weird sort of way. (He was trying to mes-mer-ize me with those purrs, but it wouldn’t work).
“Purr--cise-ly. Oh, uh-hum, I meant to say, pre-cise-ly,” I growled, “So let’s drop the subject.” Then he PURRED at me.”
― Once Upon A Dreamland Christmas
“Patches,” he meowed, “why do you look so worried? Has Santa got you on the Naughty List this year? Oh, look, someone left some muddy shoes by the back door. Meowr.”
“GRmpf.” I snarled.
“Oh. And is this a Patch-of-mud on the doormat?” mewed Trouble.
“Look, Cat,” I said, “My status with Santa is a private affair. Someone with a name like yours shouldn’t be pointing paws!”
“That’s so. That’s so,” he purred. “Pointing paws usually lead to flying fur and the need for hair ex-ten-sions.” Trouble did say things that made sense sometimes, in a weird sort of way. (He was trying to mes-mer-ize me with those purrs, but it wouldn’t work).
“Purr--cise-ly. Oh, uh-hum, I meant to say, pre-cise-ly,” I growled, “So let’s drop the subject.” Then he PURRED at me.”
― Once Upon A Dreamland Christmas
“Look. This is a Christmas tree. It’s a decoration. Why do you think everything is a toy, Cat?”
“I thought it was a toy ball, not a toy cat, and this thing here looks like a mouse-toy,” Trouble said, pointing to a mouse dressed in elf clothes that hung on the tree.
“That is a toy mouse, not a mouse-toy for cats!” I said sternly.
“What’s the difference?” said Roger, poking at it and getting it swinging.
Trouble added in wonder, “You think the people of the house did not put this mouse and these balls here for us to play with?”
“Yes ….”
“So we’re playing. What’s the problem?”
“No, Cat!” I stammered. “I mean. Yes, they did not.”
Roger-That said, “I think you are confused black and white Patch Dog.”
Finally, I said, “I am finished with this head-ache!”
Trouble said, “Ok. What head-ache do you want?”
“No. I mean you are the head-ache.”
“Wrong.” he said, “I am Trouble.”
“You got that right, Cat!” I said. “You should watch what comes out of your mouth!”
“At least what comes out of my mouth isn’t dog drool!”
―
“I thought it was a toy ball, not a toy cat, and this thing here looks like a mouse-toy,” Trouble said, pointing to a mouse dressed in elf clothes that hung on the tree.
“That is a toy mouse, not a mouse-toy for cats!” I said sternly.
“What’s the difference?” said Roger, poking at it and getting it swinging.
Trouble added in wonder, “You think the people of the house did not put this mouse and these balls here for us to play with?”
“Yes ….”
“So we’re playing. What’s the problem?”
“No, Cat!” I stammered. “I mean. Yes, they did not.”
Roger-That said, “I think you are confused black and white Patch Dog.”
Finally, I said, “I am finished with this head-ache!”
Trouble said, “Ok. What head-ache do you want?”
“No. I mean you are the head-ache.”
“Wrong.” he said, “I am Trouble.”
“You got that right, Cat!” I said. “You should watch what comes out of your mouth!”
“At least what comes out of my mouth isn’t dog drool!”
―
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