Speak of the Devil: A Day in The Life Of A Dog

It is time once again for the point of view of the dog and the cat. As always, the dog has the first say.

7:07 AM. Waking up at home. Stretching myself and getting up. Slept exceedingly well. Had dreams of carrying a stick in my teeth. A stick which ended up transforming into a Christmas tree. I wonder what that means.

7:09 AM. Looking outside the window. Lots of fresh snow visible in the pre-dawn light. Oh, I’m going to be glad to get out there in the fresh powder and start playing around. But priorities first! A good dog like me- and I am a good dog- needs his breakfast.

7:12 AM. Waiting on the human to come downstairs. After all, first it’s not as if I can open pantry doors. And second, if I could, I couldn’t be trusted with not stopping at one helping of dog kibbles.

7:14 AM. Watching movement outside the windows. Birds around the feeders. Something moving around the snow covered bushes… can’t exactly make it out, but I see… wait a minute. It’s that squirrel!

7:15 AM. Barking my head off at the squirrel, who stares at me through the window as if he could care less. Secretly I know he’s laughing and laughing and all that. Oh, I hate squirrels. I hate their very existence!

7:17 AM. The human comes downstairs. Human! That squirrel is out there right now laughing at me! You must let me ou… oh, wait. Breakfast first. Yes, breakfast first, and if we’re lucky that squirrel is dumb enough to stay out there.

7:19 AM. The human has poured me a big bowl of kibbles. I set to work feasting on it.

7:20 AM. Licking my chops, quite satisfied by my breakfast. Now what was I doing?

7:23 AM. Sitting in the living room staring at the fireplace when movement out of the corner of my eye draws my attention. That squirrel is out on the windowsill looking in. Oh, that’s what I was doing. I launch into an all out barking frenzy.

7:25 AM. The human lets me out the back door. I sprint for the windows where I saw the squirrel, barking my head off. I can’t help myself, I see a squirrel, I bark. I see him dashing through the snow, without a one horse open sleigh, over the fields we go, barking all the way… now wait a minute. Where did that come from?

7:26 AM. My pursuit of the squirrel has ended. The squirrel is safely above me in a tree chattering away at me and reveling in the fact that he has escaped my wrath yet again. I circle around the tree, growling and barking. He’s obviously laughing at getting one over me yet again.

7:38 AM. I glare up at the squirrel with contempt and disdain that would usually be reserved for me from that cranky cat down the road. Fine, you’re too gutless to come down here and face me? I’ll leave. But one of these days, you little bastard, you’re going to let your guard down. And on that great day, guess what?

I’ll be there.

8:02 AM. Stopping in to see Spike the Magnificent, Tormentor of Squirrels. Hello, Spike!

8:04 AM. I brief Spike on my encounter with the squirrel. He advises me to try to do what I can to restrain my urge to bark the moment I see a squirrel. But Spike, it’s a squirrel!

8:06 AM. Spike and I discuss the upcoming Christmas holidays. I don’t know if my human is going to be having any of those relatives over that have small children. Between you and me, Spike, I really don’t like small children.

8:09 AM. Parting ways with Spike. We agree to keep each other up to date on any movements of the enemy via the usual communication channels. And he says he’ll bark a warning when the mailman turns up here. One of these days the mailman’s going to screw with our heads and do his route in reverse.

8:38 AM. Returning home, and barking to the human to let me back in. Human! It is I! Loki! Chewer of Slippers and Annoyer of Mailmen!

8:40 AM. The human has intercepted me from getting back into the house and is now vigorously applying the Towel of Torment to my snowy fur. Oh, come on, why can’t I shake myself off in the living room and let myself dry off natural? There is no such thing as a wet dog smell, and you know it.

8:43 AM. Settling into the living room. Turning in circles precisely three times- because two is too few and four is too many- and lying down on the floor. A nap is in order. Yes, that would do quite nicely.

10:39 AM. Awake from my nap, just in time for mooching an oatmeal cookie from the human.

12:08 PM. The human is having her lunch. I am using my patented sad eyes look to mooch a dinner roll off her. Yum yum yum!

1:28 PM. Out on the front lawn barking my head off at the mailman as he drops off some mail at the box and drives away. Peace on earth and goodwill to men? I don’t think so, you monster!

3:41 PM. Scarfing down a butterscotch cookie the human has given me while she’s having her tea. It’s one of her baked ones. And this being Christmas time, it’s shaped like a snowman. I wonder why no one bakes snowdog cookies.

6:33 PM. Dinner with the human. She’s been kind and considerate enough to cut up some roast for me. I don’t know why she insists on having hers with broccoli. But then again, humans can be quite perplexing if you ask me, and of course you are asking me.

8:57 PM. Lying on my back in the living room while the human reads on the couch. Staring at the ceiling, pondering the great Yuletime mysteries. If Santa was real, would he require quantum stargate technology to get himself, a bunch of reindeer, and a colossal sleigh full of presents around the world in a single night?