A Day In The Life Of A Dog

With a brand new year it is time once more for the point of view of the resident dog and cat, starting as always with the hound...

7:31 AM. Waking up at home. Dreamed of chewing on a mammoth bone. For some reason a palaeontologist kept yelling at me to stop.

7:32 AM. Looking outside. More snow outside. Oh, good!

7:35 AM. The human comes downstairs. Well, hello there, human! How about some breakfast?

7:39 AM. Gobbling down a big bowlful of kibbles. Yum yum yum!

7:42 AM. Say, human... how about letting me out for a run? There’s all that lovely fresh snow out there. And I feel like getting out and about and having a ramble about in that white stuff. Just as long as you don’t apply that Towel of Torment to me when I get back. I mean, I was a very good dog over Christmas, wasn’t I? Doesn’t that earn me the right to dry off by the fireplace?

7:45 AM. Out dashing through the snow. The fresh powder feels good!

7:48 AM. Barking my head off while running through the field. It occurs to me that if I were trying to sneak up on anyone, they’d be hearing me coming from a long way off. Fortunately being stealthy is not on my to do list for today.

7:55 AM. Stopping in to see Spike the Magnificent, Tormentor of Squirrels. Good morning, Spike!

7:57 AM. After customary doggie greetings, Spike and I discuss what our humans were up to the other night. Apparently watching balls drop and everyone counting down and yelling about a new year in some fashion constitutes a pressing activity for humans. You know, Spike, between us, I think humans can be really weird at times.

7:59 AM. Spike and I discuss the notion of resolutions for this new year. Well, humans might feel obliged to try all that, but we’re dogs, and we’re very good dogs, perfectly well behaved. Dogs don’t have to modify our behaviour, do we? Oh, I’m sure the mailman would disagree, but they’re evil, so their opinion doesn’t count.

8:03 AM. Well, Spike, I’m off. I’ve got an appointment with a nice and toasty warm fireplace mantle to keep, and I think I’ll stop by the property where that cranky cat lives to give her my regards. What do you mean, you don’t think that’s a good idea?

8:12 AM. Stopping by the place where the cat lives. Pausing at the tree line. Looking at the windows. Well, now... there she is. Up on the windowsill. I don’t think she’s noticed me. Well, I’d better approach with tail wagging to signal my good intentions, right? Of course right.

8:13 AM. Crossing the snowy lawn while wagging my tail. The cat’s noticed me.

8:14 AM. And she’s not happy. Not with all that hissing and foul mouthed grammar no doubt going on behind that glass. Oh, come on, cat, why can’t we just be friends? I mean, I’m not such a bad dog when you get to know me. Don’t believe anything the mailman says. Or the vet. I mean, sure, I’ve occasionally been inspired to bark at you to surprise you when you’ve been sleeping out on the deck, but that’s all in fun, don’t you see?

8:15 AM. Well, despite whatever else I might be attempting in trying to show that I can be trusted, the cat seems bound and determined to loath my very existence. I don’t know why, I mean, as far as I’m concerned, I’m a very good dog, you know. Why do I get the odd sense someone’s laughing?

8:16 AM. With the cat expressing all sorts of coarse language about me and venting her fury, I have decided that discretion is the better part of valour and it is time to leave. Farewell for today, cat. Maybe tomorrow you’ll be in a better mood.

8:18 AM. Back into the woods. Looking forward to the fireplace at home.

8:32 AM. Coming up to the back door. Barking to signal my return. Human! It is I! Loki, Annoyer of Mailmen and Chewer of Slippers! Open the door so that I can claim a prime spot by the fireplace and dry off!

8:35 AM. The human opens the door but prevents me from getting inside to the beloved fireplace. Instead I find myself subjected to the rigours of the Towel of Torment applied to my damp fur. Human, I’ve told you this before, but there is nothing wrong with the smell of a wet dog.

8:39 AM. I finally get to settle in by the fireplace for my nap. Circle around three times on the living room floor and settle down. Two circles are not enough. Four are too many. Three is just right. Kind of like Goldilocks and the Three Hyenas. It’s hyenas in that story, right?

11:55 AM. Waking up from nap. Ah, good, it’s before lunch. Time to mooch.

12:03 PM. Scarfing down a dinner roll thanks to my patented mooching. Yummy!

1:28 PM. Barking my head off at the mailman as he drops off letters in the mailbox. Human! Let me out! I’ll tear a chunk out of his arm! Just open the door!

4:32 PM. Musing on the meaning of life. Is catching a stick what it all comes down to?

6:22 PM. Dinner with the human. For the record, bacon pancakes are delicious.

11:43 PM. The human is off to dinner. Fear not, human, for I, Loki... Annoyer of Mailmen and Chewer of Slippers, am on guard duty, bound and determined to protect this house against squirrel invasions or incursions by evil vets and mailmen. If that means I have to bark at a bump in the night at four in the morning, so be it.