A Day In The Life Of A Dog

It is time once more for the point of view of the dog and cat. As always, the dog gets the first say, as he easily gets distracted by squirrels.

7:08 AM. Waking up at home. Slept exceptionally well. Had good dreams of chasing the mailman until he fell into a canyon.

7:10 AM. Looking out the living room windows. Snow still on the ground. Weird, since we’re supposed to be in spring now, but then it’s been a pretty strange winter all around. Dawn’s coming. That silly changing the clocks thing the human did a few days ago still feels out of sorts. I mean, should it feel like it’s ten past six in the morning? I don’t know. But if you ask me, and you are asking me, I think human beings are very, very weird at times.

7:15 AM. Sounds from upstairs, so I know the human is awake. I’ll behave myself and stay down here. And think of breakfast. Breakfast, my favourite meal of the day. In a four way tie with lunch, dinner, and snacking.

7:23 AM. The human comes downstairs. I wag my tail in greetings. Hello, human! Isn’t it a wonderful day? Say, have you given any thought to breakfast?

7:25 AM. Thumping my tail with anticipation as the human pours me a big bowl of kibbles. Yum yum yum! Watching her setting it down….

7:26 AM. Licking my chops after devouring the entire bowlful. That tasted good!

7:29 AM. The human lets me out the door to have my morning run. See you later!

7:42 AM. Running through the back fields, barking my head off, happy as I can be.

7:47 AM. Noise from high overhead. Looking up. Flocks of geese, flying north. Well, it may not quite be spring, even though the calendar is supposed to say different, but that’s one sure sign that it’s coming.

7:53 AM. Stopping at the home of Spike the Magnificent, Tormentor of Squirrels, and he happens to be outside. Hello, Spike!

7:54 AM. Spike and I greet each other in the customary sniffing the hindquarters manner of canines.

7:57 AM. Spike and I confer on the most serious of issues. Health benefits of a good belly rub. Whether or not to bark when the wind rattles a window at four in the morning. The known movements of the enemy squirrels.

8:03 AM. Spike points out to me that in a few days the humans will be having that Easter thing again. Four day weekends mixed with religious services mixed with a rabbit that somehow leaves chocolate eggs around. Like I’ve been saying for a long time, Spike, humans are very weird. But I like them anyway. Even if they don’t share their chocolate.

8:06 AM. Spike and I speculate that humans tell us that chocolate is bad for us not because it’s true, but because they want all of it to themselves. Could chocolate really be that delicious that humans can override our sad eyes mooching tactics and refuse us?

8:09 AM. Spike and I go our separate ways, promising to keep each other up to date on the mailman, and any squirrel sightings. I tell you, Spike, it might just be me, but I’m convinced those devious little bastards are plotting some nefarious world domination scheme, and they’re five minutes from launching it.

8:17 AM. Trotting through the woods, sniffing about as I go. Fortunately, there have been no signs of skunks coming out of their dens.

8:23 AM. Coming across the property where the cranky cat lives. Should I say hello?

8:25 AM. Strolling through the snow on the cat’s property. Hey, there she is behind a window.

8:26 AM. The grouchy feline has not spotted me. Her eyes are closed and she appears to be sunning herself. Should I bark hello and disrupt her reverie? Or should I behave myself? Decisions, decisions…

8:27 AM. I decide that discretion is the better part of valour and take my leave of the property. No one in this world can suggest that Loki, Chewer of Slippers and Annoyer of Mailmen, is unable to behave himself.

8:36 AM. Returning home. Barking to alert the human to my presence.

8:38 AM. The human has opened the door but is applying the Towel of Torment to my fur vigorously to dry me up. Oh, come on, human, all I did was roll around in seven snow drifts.

12:11 PM. The human is having lunch. I have successfully mooched a dinner roll from her.

1:36 PM. Barking viciously at the mailman as he drops off some mail and drives away. Get lost, you vile fiend!

6:28 PM. Dinner with the human. She’s been kind enough to cut up some Italian sausages for me. Yum yum yum!

11:24 PM. The human is off to bed. She’s not impressed with the weather forecast. More snow? Come on, human, stop complaining. After all, spring will come when it’s ready to come. And snow is fun to jump and run and play in. Right? Of course right.