A Day in the Life
It’s starting to get light out and dad’s still sleeping. If I pace back and forth on his side of the bed, I’ll just happen to be close by when his eyes open. Pace, pace. Pace, pace.
Except he’s not waking up, so this requires a more nuanced approach. If I give myself a good shake, I can rattle the tags on my collar and that might get his attention. Shake, shake. Rattle, rattle.
Damn! He’s still asleep. Alright, no more Ms. Nice Gal, a cold wet nose to his back it is.
“Abbey!”
Oh, hi dad, are you awake? Can we go for a walk now?
“Abbey, go lay down,”
But, dad . . . okay. Humpf.
Now the sun is really up, I’m getting hungry and it IS time for my walk and then breakfast. Another wet nose to his back and this time I’m not taking No for an answer.
“Good morning, Abbey.”
Oh, hi dad, are you awake? Can we go for a walk now? This time I get a nice scratching on my back. Thank you very much.
Dad, go do your morning stretches and I’ll prance around and yip with excitement. And open the doggie door so me and Lahni can run outside and bark at something. Maybe it’s a squirrel, maybe it’s a lizard. Lahni pretends she can see it, while I just bark and howl at whatever it is.
Ok, morning guard duties are done. I’m calmly sitting here waiting for you, dad, but hurry up and get out of the bathroom.
“Alright, Abbey, let’s go.”
I race down the back stairs and stand in the driveway, taking in the fresh smells from last night as my nose gets a little twitchy. Hey, what’s that smell? The restaurant up the street? Raccoon scat on the lawn? Bacon cooking at that gray house across the street? Well, yeah, all houses look gray to me, as do cars, flowers and cats.
Thank goodness it’s nice out so I don’t have to dress up in one of those sissy sweaters. Granted, I’m more of a lover than a fighter, but dressing up my homies in any kind of outfit is just flat out idiocy. No thank you. Also, I don’t need no stinkin’ leash like other dogs. Back in my early days I was a little bit ornery around other dogs, but since going to Uncle Matt’s place for training, I’ve been much better around my buds. Did I tell you that Uncle Matt has his own TV show about us types? He takes nasty-assed dogs and turns them into well behaved pups. Pretty cool, huh?
Where was I? Oh yeah, out walking. Normally I’m on dad’s left side, but when we pass houses that have some of my kind and maybe they’ve barked at me in the past, I’ll switch things up and walk on the opposite side of dad. It’s not that I’m afraid of them, no sir ma’am. I just don’t want to be tempted at biting ‘em in their snout.
It’s kinda good that dad’s legs are hurtin’ today since my arthritis is causing me to walk slower than when I was a young pup. But, there’s hardly any place I’d rather be than out walking with my dad, unless it’s standing in front of a full food bowl.
Wait, gotta stop and pee.
Wait, gotta stop and sniff. Hmmm, there seems to be a new dude in the ‘hood. Better keep an eye out for ‘em.
Wait, gotta stop and sniff and then pee. Dad! Stop pulling on the leash, ok? Can’t ya see I’m peein’ here?
“Come on, Abbs, let’s go.”
I guess he’s referring to me when he calls me ‘Abbs.’ Dad also calls me Little Miss Hopeful, because I always get a hopeful look on my face when he and/or mom are going someplace in the car. Being in the car is my most favorite thing to do besides eating. It doesn’t matter where we’re going. I just lay down in my crate and off we go. Nothin' better than that! Unless it’s standing in front of a full food bowl, or did I mention that already?
Dad sometimes calls us ‘Dog 1’ and ‘Dog 2’ when me and Lahni are together. I know that I’m Dog 1 since I’m the Alpha dog. Hard to believe that I’m tougher than Lahni, but deep down she’s kind of a wuss. We also are called ‘dog’ and ‘other dog,’ ‘you’ and ‘other you.’ I guess dad can’t remember our names so that’s his way of keeping us straight inside his fading brain.
Oh good, today we’re going across the bridge. I love walking over the bridge and passing the homeless people . . .
Wait. Hmmm, that smells pretty good, I gotta pick that up off the ground and eat it.
“Abbey, drop it!”
Damnit dad, get your fingers out of my mouth. Ack!! Ack!! Cough!! That was a perfectly good piece of something edible.
Crap, now dad’s mad at me, but I’ll just wag my tail and look up at him and grin. I can’t always figure out dad’s look, but I’ve got all kinds of facial expressions–cute, feed me, cute, do I get to go?, cute, wadda ya’ mean I don’t get to go? Cute. Well, you get the point.
Back to the homeless people . . . They have lots of smells coming off them, but it confuses my nose too much and I can’t tell if they’re good or bad smells. I’m thinkin’ they’re not good, since dad doesn’t let me get too close to ‘em.
Uh oh, there’s another dog walking across the bridge toward us and it’s the kind dad and mom refer to as LWFD’s, or little white fluffy dogs. My nemesis. Those little dogs bug me, they're always so hyper and nervous and they’re also the type to wear those sissy sweaters. There’s even one in the ‘hood that rides around in a pram. Gimme’ a flippin’ break!
Back to this one approaching me. Hey buddy, you keep giving me the stink-eye and I’ll knock your fluffy little white ass over the side of the bridge. Damn right I’m talkin’ to you. You think I’m kidding? Watch this – GRRRRR!
“ABBEY!”
What, dad? I’m just showing that little snot-nosed mutt who’s the boss around here.
Hmmm, more homeless people with their confusing smells ahead.
“Kin I pet yer dog?”
Hell no, get those grimy hands away from me. Plus, you stink.
“Sorry. She doesn’t like strangers.”
“Thas’ a’ight. Got any spare change?”
“All I have with me are poop bags. Stay safe, though.”
“Yeah, thanks man.”
Let’s go home, dad, it’s time to eat.
Wait, why do we have to go the long way back home? Oh hell, here comes some old lady, I hope she doesn’t have an LWFD with her.
“That’s a nice looking dog, what kind is he? Does he like treats?”
Treats? Did you say treats, lady? I was gonna stick my nose in your crotch for calling me a he but then you said I’m nice looking. I’m a she and I’m stunning, but enough about me, where are those treats you mentioned I could have?
“She’s a long-haired white German Shepherd, and yes I’m sure she’d take a treat from you.”
Gulp. Yum. Got any more, lady?
“Come on, Abbs, let’s go.”
Wait, she might have more treats.
Wait, gotta stop and pee.
Wait, gotta stop and sniff.
Wait, gotta stop and sniff and then pee. Dad! Stop pulling on the leash, ok? Can’t ya see I’m peein’ here?
Finally, we’re home and I get breakfast.
Dad . . . (drool) . . . put. . . (drool) . . . my . . . (drool) . . . food bowl . . . (drool) . . .down. . . (drool) . . . The. . . (drool) . . . carpet. . . (drool) . . . is getting . . . (drool) . . .soaked . . . (drool).
“OK.”
Snarf. Gulp. Gulp. Gobble. Gulp. Snarf. Lick. Lick. Lick.
Hey, Lahni, you got anything left in your bowl I can have?
She never does, but I always go check out her bowl, just in case she missed a tiny speck of food.
I’ve had my walk and breakfast. Mom’s taken me outside and brushed my coat into a luxurious blonde sheen. Now there’s nothing to do except lay down on my bed and take a nap. I’ll just stretch out here with LAHNI and take a little snooze . . .
Damn, Lahni, get your butt outta my nose! Sticking that unwashed, flea-ridden thing in my face is NOT cuddling in anyone’s universe. At least I hope not. Why don’t you go outside and bark at squirrels, or lizards or the Amazon driver? If you were really as tough as you thought you were, the squirrels and Amazon guy would never come back, now would they?
Can’t you remember Lahni, you barked at them yesterday, and the day before, and the day before that? Wait, that wasn’t the Amazon dude back then, that was that big brown UPS truck you were flappin’ your gums at. Well, whatever. Just chax Lahni and let me lie here in peace and quiet.
~~
Oh crap! Mom’s getting that jug of blue soapy stuff out of the cabinet where she keeps our food bowls. That can only mean one thing–me and Lahni are getting a bath. They’re not fun, but I don’t mind them as much as Lahni does. She turns to a bowl of quivering jelly standing in the shower all wet and sudsy. The best part is after our bath when we get a bully stick. I’m not sure what part of the cow they come from and probably don’t want to know, but they sure are tasty. YUM!
Another nap to dry me off, but this time it’s outside with dad. He gets in the lounge chair with a book while I go and search out a sunny spot. Yep, life is good.
“Abbey, don’t lay in the dirt. You just had a bath and are still wet.”
Dad, I don’t know dirt from carpeting from the deck. Where I’m from that’s a complete unknown. But to satisfy you, I’ll lie next to you. Or I could go inside and sneak up on your bed. Mom’s busy and dad’s outside, neither of them will ever know.
Naw, too much work. I’ll just stay out here and enjoy the sun.
BARK. BARK. BARK. GRRRR. GRRRR. GRRRR. BARK. BARK. BARK.
“Lahni, leave it. It’s just the mailman.”
Like I said earlier, Lahni barks at the same things over and over. Although I imagine with those radar-dish sized ears on her head she can hear anything and everything, including picking up radio stations in Guatemala, wherever that is. Must be a curse to be carrying those things around on your head all the time.
Well, the deck is now covered in afternoon shadows and that means mom takes me for a walk cuz’ of dad’s legs not working too good late in the day. As much as I like going with dad, I don’t really care who takes me for an afternoon walk since afterwards it’s that much closer to dinner time.
<<Puff>> <<puff>> <<Pant>> <<pant>>. Well, another walk under my belt and . . . WHOA, what’s that I smell? Is that salmon dad has out on the counter? Cool. We always get little chunks of raw salmon in our food bowl when mom and dad have it for their dinner. YUM!
Mom . . . (drool) . . . put. . . (drool) . . . my . . . (drool) . . . food bowl . . . (drool) . . . down. . . (drool) . . . The . . . (drool) . . . carpet . . . (drool) . . . is getting . . . (drool) . . . wet . . . (drool).
“OK.”
Snarf. Gulp. Gulp. Gobble. Gulp. Snarf. Lick. Lick. Lick.
Hey, Lahni, you got anything left in your bowl I can have?
She never does, but I always go check out her bowl, just in case she missed a tiny speck of food.
After we’re all done eating I join mom and day in the living room to watch TV, I think that’s what they call it, but what do I know? They say it’s a color TV, but I’m certainly no savant at anything with color. Ya’ know, as I mentioned earlier, life’s all grey to me.
Along with ice cream for dad’s dessert, mom brings out the toothbrush and dog toothpaste. I get excited about it but couldn’t tell you why. The stuff tastes awful–coconut oil and baking soda. YUCK. But here I am, eyes bright and ears perked up until that thing gets shoved halfway down my throat. It feels funny and tastes gross, but if my dad’s doing it, I’ll play along. Ack!! Ack!! Cough!!
“Come on, Abbey. Time for bed.”
Mom pulls the bedspread off and into a pile on the floor and Lahni proceeds to lie on it, while I go and plop myself down on my own bed in the corner.
“Good night, Abbey. Good night, Lahni.”
‘Night dad. See you in the morning and we’ll do it all over again, ok?
Yep, life is good.
Thanks to Mary, Abbey, Lahni, Caroline, Chet and Bernie for their inspiration.