Laugh at me while I try to think like a dog.
Momzy turns to the Animal Planet.
I don’t like to look at the flickering images, but sometimes interesting sounds come out of the black boxes on the floor. I’d like to pee on the boxes, so I could send my scent to Animal Planet, but I’d better not do that. Momzy doesn’t like it. She’s strange that way, and I must do as Momzy says. Momzy is strong and powerful; besides, she has all the food. I listen carefully to her tone.
Sometimes she leaves me.
It’s lonely when she’s gone. I get frustrated, and I’d like to rip the pillows on the bed to pieces. They’re so plump and fat. Their boneless bodies are rich with Momzy’s drool.
When Momzy comes back to the den, she always brings fresh food, and I forget about the feathers inside the pillows. Momzy must be a wonderful hunter. Maybe, one day she will let me prowl the hunting ground with her. I would be a good tracker. My ancestors have made certain promises to me. Their voices blend into a single sound that echoes in my blood.
We eat lunch. It’s roasted chicken today, but any kind of meat is okay with me. Also cheese, peanut butter and anything sweet make good snacks. The only thing Momzy won’t share with me chocolate. The greasy smell of the chicken fat makes slobber run off my tongue. Momzy shares. Momzy loves me. I love Momzy. Pardon me while I gulp. I must eat fast, before someone else wants a bite.
We take a nap on the sofa, while the TV flickers nonsense. I can feel Momzy’s heart beating against my back. It is a strong beat and that’s good. Momzy is not a pup, but she is not old, either. It’s warm under the blanket. It’s important to be warm. Momzy farts, and I wiggle out.
I chew on my bone. I wish it was a real bone with salty blood to lick and marrow to gnaw. A ray of sunshine warms the floor in front of the window. I lie in the sunshine with my belly up. Vitamin D is good. I don’t want to get rickets or lose my teeth. I’m only a pup.
A faint breeze creeps between the window and the metal threads; it brings tantalizing wisps of yard. Grass, bugs and my poop are the closest things. Chlorinated water drips from the garden hose into the birdbath. The garbage can is further away, but it smells interesting. The bones from the roasted chicken are in there. Momzy shouldn’t throw the bones away.
Kids are playing in the street, and two houses down there is another bin with oily fish. I don’t like fish, but it makes for good camouflage. The musky smell would surely get rid of the perfumed stench that Momzy scrubs into my fur.
Momzy stirs on the sofa, and I pad over to her. We stare at each other, but it’s not a challenge. I am lower than Momzy and my tale is tucked between my legs. She speaks to me. Her tone is soft; her vowels round. I understand many of her words, but I only like a few of them.
“Want’a go for a walk?”
“Arf, arf, arf.” I spin and twist.
Momzy leashes me and wraps her feet in cow skin. As we trot down the sidewalk, I take the lead. Momzy and me are a small pack, but as soon as I find a bitch, I will make puppies.
The sidewalk’s hot surface fills my nose: pee from dogs, poop from birds, wads of gum, candy wrappers, traces of cats and squirrels. We turn off the street and enter the park, my favorite place. Momzy doesn’t fool around; she throws the ball right away. I chase it down, pounce on it and kill it. All too easy, but I take the dead ball back.
A man comes. Momzy talks to him; he talks to her. The man leaves and Momzy cries. This worries me. Is she sad enough to die? I place my nose on Momzy’s knee. She shoos me away.
Beyond the trail a squirrel yadders at me. I nearly catch the scamp before he leaps up a bole at the last second before capture. I promise the squirrel a ripping death if he will come down again. He won’t come down so I dig up his stash of nuts. I find a big oak that twelve dogs have peed on. I know many things about these dogs from their messages. As last dog to mark the spot, I am most powerful. On the trail, I bump into a wilted sapling. This pup is hungry. I offer my fruits and whiz on the trunk. The tree likes one but not the other.
The sun goes down, and I realize I’m lost. My stomach rumbles. If only I had caught that rude tree rat. I can’t find Momzy. I wander out into the street that goes back to our den. A car honks, and the metal lip bumps my right hip. The loud, booming thing has hurt me, and now I walk with a limp. I lick at my new bruise, but the licking does no good.
I will go back to the park and start anew. I’m not ready to hunt alone. Dew beads on my hair and the sounds of the park change. New animals come out, as day creatures slip abed. I wish I was abed. A bat zips by, an owl hoots and frogs complain near the lake.
I must find a new pack; I must nuzzle my nose into their butts. As I think this, I hear Momzy’s voice. She says that word that means ME.
“Come and get me,” I yelp. I hope she tracks me soon.
A ray of light, moving like a boor shaking his head, fans through the bush. It’s a monster with a single white eye that cuts the darkness! Its mouth must be enormous! I pretend to be brave by growling, but I’m a tricky pooch. I shy away, slipping deeper into the woods.
Momzy calls my name. She is close; I can smell her. She is behind the light-monster,
she has tracked me. Momzy is a good hunter, and she has forgotten the man, who made her cry. There is only an image of me in her heart. Momzy loves me; I love Momzy.
I hope she takes me home, now. I’m very tired, but I do smell much better.