A Day In The Life Of A Dog

It is time once again for the point of view of the dog and cat, starting, as always, with the hound.

7:23 AM. Waking up. Had pleasant dreams of chasing the mailman up a tree.

7:26 AM. Looking outside at falling snow. Sounds of the human upstairs getting herself ready for the day. Looking forward to breakfast. Yum yum yum!

7:37 AM. The human comes downstairs. Hello, human! Fine day, isn’t it? Say, have you by chance given any consideration to making my breakfast? I’m just bringing it up because I lack the required paw finesse to get myself into the pantry, and I’m not quite sure I could be trusted to pour myself just one bowl of kibbles. That’s not to say I’m untrustworthy, it’s just that when food becomes a factor, my level of trustworthiness tends to decline. Like last week when I helped myself to that cookie you left on the end table.

7:41 AM. Devouring a big bowlful of delicious kibbles. Yum yum yummy!

7:44 AM. Out the door for my morning run. See you later, human!

7:52 AM. Running through the back fields, barking at all that falling snow. Woof woof woof!

8:03 AM. Dropping by to pay a visit to Spike the Magnificent, Tormentor of Squirrels. Hello, Spike!

8:04 AM. Spike and I greet each other in the customary doggie fashion and inquire as to why humans don’t do the same when greeting each other. What’s wrong with the hindquarters?

8:06 AM. Spike and I confer on the preparations our humans are making for the Christmas holidays. No tree put up in my place yet, Spike, but then we’re just really getting started with the month, aren’t we? Besides which, the human seems to be wary of the idea of me around an elaborately decorated tree. I don’t know why, I mean, I knocked the thing over one time and she never let me hear the end of it.

8:10 AM. We discuss the relative scarcity of squirrel sightings as of late. Spike is certain they’re spending most of their time in winter quarters, only coming out every once in awhile to raid the bird feeders. Apparently humans find this rather endearing, which is odd. Humans are supposed to be smart, so why can’t they see how devious squirrels really are?

8:12 AM. Spike and I speculate on the odds of new chew toys being under the Christmas tree. Well, I’ve been a good dog all year long, so it should be fine for me. As long as you ignore the whole chasing the mayor around the waterfront thing I did in May.

8:16 AM. Parting ways with Spike. He’s promised to give a good warning bark when the mailman passes by his place.

8:28 AM. Passing by the house where that cranky cat lives. I wonder if she’s out today.

8:29 AM. Well, she’s not outside, but lo and behold, there she is, behind a window, glaring at me and hissing. What is it with cats that make them so cranky where dogs are concerned? Is there something we did long ago that annoyed them? Was it one time chasing them up a tree too many? Well, maybe she’ll respond well to a wagging tail.

8:31 AM. Standing in front of the window, wagging my tail, barking hello to the kitty. True to form, she’s expressing hostilities and antagonism and giving me the finger. Oh well, you can’t say I didn’t try. Time to leave, but first... one good roll around on the ground.

8:32 AM. Departing the property. The cat is displeased with me. I suppose if she were outside right now, she’d be trying to claw my face. That’s what you get for your human leaving you alone during the day.

8:40 AM. Returning home, where the human stops me from getting inside and applies the rigours of the Towel Of Torment to me. Oh well, it would have been nice to get indoors and dry up natural, but my human seems to dislike the smell of wet dog. Really, human, if the fashion industry could bottle up the smell of wet dog, they’d make a fortune.

8:56 AM. Circling around three times in the living room and settling down for a nap. Note to self: set internal alarm clock so I can wake up before noon and therefore mooch some lunch from my human.

12:24 PM. Waking up suddenly. Glance at the clock. Wait a minute, what happened to my internal alarm clock?

12:25 PM. Finding the human in the kitchen, doing lunch time dishes. Awww, nuts! I missed the chance to mooch!

1:28 PM. Hearing the sound of distant barking. That’s Spike... and that means the mailman is coming.

1:36 PM. Barking up a storm when the mailman pulls up in his car to the mailbox outside. Hey! Get out of here, you evil fiend!

5:41 PM. Watching the human working on dinner. Whatever it is, it smells good.

6:36 PM. Dinner with the human. She’s made shepherd’s pie. I’m enjoying a portion. This makes up for that whole missing the chance to mooch thing that happened earlier in the day.

8:09 PM. The human’s reading. I’m lying on my back wondering if Coco Chanel ever considered releasing L’Eau de Chien Humide.

11:33 PM. The human is off to bed. Good night, human! Sweet dreams. I’ll be down here guarding the house against all sorts of squirrel threats and nefarious bumps in the night. Unless, of course, I’m the one doing the bumping in the night. In which case it’s not nefarious, because as we all know, I’m a very good dog.

Just don’t ask the mayor if she agrees.