A Day In The Life Of A Dog

8:10 AM. Awake. Feeling quite rested. Time to get the day started. Where is the human? Is she awake yet?

8:12 AM. Curious, very curious. No trace of her in her room... the bathroom door is open. I wonder where she is....

8:14 AM. Coming into kitchen. The human is sitting having a cup of tea. Human, how did you manage to get downstairs without waking me up? This is most irregular, you know...

8:17 AM. The human is most kind, and pours me a big bowlful of kibbles for breakfast. Yummy!

8:20 AM. Out the door for my morning constitutional. Running like a lunatic, as usual, barking my head off.

8:45 AM. Running through the back fields, on my rounds. No trace of anything amiss. I wish there was a deer or two around, something that I could chase. That would be ever so much fun.

Maybe that cat from down the road that doesn't like me for some reason is around....

9:05 AM. Have encountered odd looking little critter in field. It seems to have all sorts of  grey and brown quills instead of fur. I wonder what it is. Bark at it to say hello. Come a bit closer to sniff at it...

9:06 AM. Ow ow ow ow ow!!!!!! Why didn't someone tell me these things pierce the skin???

That hurts!

The critter just glares at me in a sullen way.

All I was doing was saying hello, and now I've got these things embedded in my snout!

9:07 AM. How do I get these things out? I've tried moving them with my paw.... 

I'm going to need help.

9:20 AM. I have crossed paths with Spike The Magnificent, Tormentor of Squirrels. He takes one look at the quills in my snout and shakes his head. He informs me that we're supposed to give such creatures a wide berth when we encounter them. Contact with those quills tend to result in, well, what's happened to me. He also remarks on how rumor has it the critters can actually throw these quills, but he chalks those up to old wives tales, saying that from bitter experience, it's just getting too close to the quills that makes this happen. The humans call them porcupines, and they tend to be a bit cranky. That, and those quills hurt.

I know the quills hurt, Spike! How do I get them out?

9:21 AM. Spike advises me that the best thing I can do at present is to go to my human, who will be able to remove the quills. Spike suggests I not be seen by any cats on my way home. Cats have a way of rubbing misfortunes of dogs in their faces, for some reason.

9:23 AM. Bidding farewell to Spike. I must have these quills removed from my snout as quickly as I can.

That's the last time I ever mess with a porcupine.

It's not quite as obnoxious as that time with the skunk, but still...

9:40 AM. I am home. The human opens the door and frowns at me. Human, by chance can  you remove these quills? In a way that doesn't involve that demonic arch fiend you call the vet?

9:45 AM. The human is carefully removing quills, admonishing me for carelessness. She says something about this teaching me a lesson. I hope so, human, I hope so. I promise, in the future, I will always give such critters a whole lot of space.

9:50 AM. Yet another quill removed. The human tells me to be patient as she works. She's using scissors and a plier for some reason. Please hurry, human. Each time you do that it hurts. 

I find myself whimpering...

9:53 AM. I wonder how much more of this I can ta... owww!!!

9:57 AM. The human tells me she's done. Gives my snout a wash with soap and water to clean it up. 

Human, I will never, ever, ever again bother a porcupine. I swear on my next bowl of kibbles.

What a day it's already been... and here it's not even noon.

11:50 AM. Waking up from nap. Snout sore. Oh, yes. Right. Porcupine quill removals will do that.

12:05 PM. The human is having lunch. Hello, human. My snout might be a bit sore, but I'd feel better already if I could just have a bit of something to eat....

12:07 AM. The human gives me a smoked beef and cheese sandwich. 

Yum yum yum!

12:25 PM. The noon news is on. For some reason there's no mention of just how dangerous porcupines can be.

I think human news directors have their priorities completely mixed up.

2:10 PM. Waking up from another nap. I think aside from any business I have to conduct, so to speak, I'll just spend the rest of the day indoors.

I don't want a repeat of this morning, after all...

6:10 PM. The human is making dinner. Smells great, human. Is that spaghetti I smell? Can I have some? I promise, I'll be very tidy.

Human?

Oh, right, she remembers last time.

6:25 PM. I just have to make do with a couple of dinner rolls, along with my usual bowl of kibbles. Well, the dinner rolls do taste good, but it'd be even better with a plate of spaghetti. 

Come on, human, it was cute in that movie about the lady and the tramp.

9:00 PM. The human is turning on a movie. What are we going to watch tonight, human? Something with a dog as a hero?

Um, what is Sunset Of The Dead? Would you explain that to me? 

9:25 PM. You know, human... watching this film, I must say... I do find the zombie genre of movies to be, well... rather confusing. Here we've got ourselves a cast of strangers, all filling a role. There we've got Kirsten Dunst as the ingenue, Shia LaBeouf as the doofus we all hate, Ving Rhames as the tough no-nonsense cop, Jon Voight as the grandfather, and John Hawkes as the paranoid isolationist from the backwoods.

And for some reason, rambling zombies chasing them all over the place.

Would you explain to me why this genre is so popular?

I hope Shia LaDoofus dies first.

To Be Continued....