A Day In The Life Of A Dog

It is time once again for the point of view of the resident dog and cat. As always, the dog starts things off.

7:34 AM. Waking up at home. Slept exceedingly well. Had good dreams of chewing on dog treats. Yum yum yum. What’s even better is having dog treats for real. After breakfast, perhaps. And after my morning run, but before my morning tea mooch session. Note to self: don’t nap through the morning tea mooch session.

7:37 AM. Looking out the window. More snow in the night. Looks nice and fresh and ready for me to go playing in.

7:41 AM. Good morning, human! Fine day out there, isn’t it? Say, how about some breakfast? I’m feeling a bit peckish. Oh, by the way, I had a rather nice dream involving dog treats. Any of those in the offing?

7:44 AM. Devouring breakfast at a rapid pace. It’s almost like I’m a vacuum cleaner, which of course must be sacrilege, because all dogs know that vacuum cleaners are evil.

7:47 AM. Out the door for my morning run. Bye, human! Don’t you be driving off anywhere without me riding shotgun, right?

8:03 AM. Running through the back fields, barking like a lunatic. There are times when barking like a lunatic is the very best thing you can do. Like about sixty percent of the time when you’re awake. Particularly if the mailman is near your house.

8:12 AM. Stopping by the house of that cranky cat. No sign of her in the yard. I give one big woof and start running back into the woods. By the time she’s at the windows, I’ll be long gone! Hah hah hah!

8:14 AM. Heading back through the woods. Right about now that cat’s sitting on a windowsill trying to spot any sight of me to no avail, grumbling through her fangs and vowing a claw vengeance on me.

8:23 AM. Stopping by to see Spike the Magnificent, Tormentor of Squirrels. Hello, Spike! Top of the morning to you!

8:25 AM. Spike and I compare intelligence reports on movements of the enemy. The squirrels continue to remain elusive. We occasionally see them at bird feeders raiding the bird seed like the greedy devious louts that they are, but beyond that, they have made themselves scarce.

8:28 AM. Spike and I discuss what’s coming next week. That annual occasion when people consult weather prognosticating rodents to find out how long winter will last. You and I could tell them that, Spike, I mean, honestly... winter will last as long as it’s meant to last. If that means seventeen more weeks of winter, so be it. Who needs a groundhog for that?

8:33 AM. Taking leave of Spike. See you later, Spike. I have a nap to get to before morning tea, after all, and I don’t mean to be late.

8:49 AM. Barking at the door to be let back in. Human! Loki, Chewer Of Slippers And Annoyance To Mailmen is back!

8:51 AM. The human catches me before I can get past into the house, and subjects me to the Towel of Torment. Oh, come on, human, I haven’t spent that much time rolling around in the snow. I can dry off naturally, you know...

8:55 AM. Circling around three times on the living room rug before settling down by the fireplace. Two times is too few, four times is too many. Nap time, Loki, and this time, set your internal alarm clock.

11:23 AM. Waking up. Glancing at clock. Why did my internal alarm clock not go off? I missed morning tea mooching, and the opportunities presented by cookies. Oh well, better luck with afternoon tea, right? Of course I’m right. 

12:10 PM. Mooching a couple of dinner rolls from the human over lunch. Yum yum yummy!

1:03 PM. Pondering what came first. The dog or the cat. If it was the dog, why do we chase cats then? You know, philosophy can get a little perplexing at times. Rest assured, Plato’s dog never had to deal with these kinds of questions.

4:36 PM. Waking up from nap. Glance at clock.... wait. I slept through afternoon tea too????

4:38 PM. Finding the human in the kitchen. Human? Why didn’t you wake me up for afternoon tea?

4:39 PM. The human presents me with two butterscotch cookies. Oh boy! Yum yum yummy!

5:48 PM. Staring outside while the human’s in the kitchen making dinner. As fun as weekend days are, there’s something not quite right about lacking the opportunity to bark at the mailman.

6:21 PM. Dinner with the human. She’s cut up some beef for me. She insists on eating hers with Brussels sprouts. You know, there are times humans can be such a mystery. You can rest assured that I would never subject myself to eating Brussels sprouts.

Again. Not after that last time.

8:45 PM. The human’s sitting on the couch reading. I’m busy engaged in a staring contest with that stone gargoyle she keeps on the mantle. One of these days, ugly, I’m going to win...

8:57 PM. Rats. Lost again.

11:36 PM. The human is off to bed. Good night, human! I will keep a close eye on the house overnight. When I’m not sleeping, that is, but never fear, I can be awake in an instant. Just not, apparently, when you’re having tea and cookies, in which case I’m sleeping like the dead for some reason.