A Day In The Life Of A Dog

This is the Easter weekend. And as it's been awhile, it is time for the point of view of the dog and the cat. The dog starts things up with Good Friday. The cat shall have Easter Monday to herself.

7:04 AM. Waking up at home. Slept exceedingly well. Dreamed of chasing the Easter Bunny.

7:08 AM. Staring out the living room windows. Most of the snow is gone. Robins have come back. Plenty of mud puddles out there. Yes, spring has come back. I’m looking forward to getting out there and splashing around in some meltwater, but priorities first. I need my breakfast. Because breakfast is the most important meal of the day. In a four way tie with lunch, dinner, and snacks.

7:11 AM. I can hear my human moving around upstairs, so I’m confident that in the not so distant future I shall be gobbling up my breakfast. This is a good thing. Because I get a bit anxious when breakfast is delayed.

7:14 AM. Watching outside as a raccoon passes by on the lawn. I give one woof. He turns and looks at me. Then he gives me the finger and keeps walking. Well now that’s just rude. I thought those masked bandits were nocturnal beasts.

7:21 AM. The human comes downstairs. I start wagging my tail furiously. Good morning, human! Fine day, isn’t it? Say, I don’t mean to be impatient, but have you given any thought to my breakfast? I’m just saying.

7:24 AM. Watching the human as she pours me a big bowl of kibbles. Oh boy oh boy oh boy oh boy…

7:25 AM. Licking my lips after finishing off my breakfast. That was good!

7:27 AM. Inquiring with the human as to if she’ll let me out for a morning run.

7:28 AM. Out the door and on my way. See you later, human!

7:37 AM. Running through the back fields, barking my head off, happy as I can be. 

7:53 AM. Chasing a squirrel up a tree. The little bastard has made it up above my reach and is now staring down at me laughing his ass off. Get back down here, you coward!

8:01 AM. The squirrel continues to taunt and heckle me while I circle around the tree, suggesting that I'm getting slow in my old age and that I should just give up. First of all, I'm five years old. In people years. Yes, that equals thirty five in dog years, but that's not old. And on a side note, I've always found the notion of dog years to be perplexing. But that's beside the point. Second, you had a two second head start and I made the mistake of barking too soon, because if either of those things had been different, you'd be in my jaws right now, you little punk!

8:05 AM. The squirrel continues to torment me. There's no chance of my getting hold of him, so all things being as they are, I'd better just leave and be on my way. I glare up at the insufferable little bastard one more time with all the venom and hostility my doggie eyes can bring to bear. One of these days, you little bastard, you'll slip up. You'll get careless. And that's the day I'll be there.

8:12 AM. Stopping by to see Spike the Magnificent, Tormentor of Squirrels. He sees how foul a mood I'm in.

8:14 AM. I finish debriefing Spike on my near catch of the squirrel. He wishes me better luck next time and says that sometimes these things happen. Yes, well, it would be nice if it didn't happen this morning. Lousy squirrel...

8:16 Spike reminds me that this being the Easter weekend, we won't have any mail coming in today or Monday. The flip side of that is that the mailman will probably be late on Tuesday. Well, we'll just have to keep our eyes open for him then. And assume that if he shows up today or Monday, that it's for some nefarious and evil purpose like world domination or stealing things from our humans or things like that. I don't know, Spike, I wouldn't put anything past a mailman.

8:21 AM. Parting ways with Spike. He cautions me to find hidey holes in case my human has relatives coming over during the Easter weekend. Especially so if they have little children who think dogs are horses. I know, Spike, it's ridiculous. I mean, dogs are not horses. Do horses wag their tails? Do horses roll over on their backs? Wait, they do both of those things. Okay, but do horses bark at mailmen? I thought not.

8:35 AM. Barking at the back door to alert the human to my presence. Human! It is I, Loki, Annoyer of Mailmen and Chewer of Slippers!

8:37 AM. The human has let me in after a careful visual inspection to ensure that I have not been rolling around in any mud puddles or splashing through any streams. Human! I'll have you know that I did no such thing!

I thought about it, but that's a different story.

10:30 AM. Mooching a cookie off the human while she has morning coffee. Yum yum yum!

12:24 PM. The human is having lunch. I am using my patented sad eyes trick to get the human to give me a ham and cheese sandwich. Yummy!

1:32 PM. Right about now would be the time when the mailman would be driving up to our box, but this being a statutory holiday means he's off. I wonder what mailmen do on such days. Probably create more pepper spray for their ongoing war against dogs, or gather together and plot vile schemes of world domination. Or hang from rafters like the bloodsuckers they are.

3:19 PM. Mooching a cookie from the human while she's having tea. Oatmeal! Oh boy!

6:35 PM. Dinner with the human. She's made some broccoli for herself, along with meatloaf. She's cut up some slices of meatloaf for me, which certainly meet with my approval as I am presently engaged in wolfing them down. Why humans insist on eating broccoli with theirs is a mystery.

9:12 PM. The human is watching a movie. One television channel or another always airs this one this time of year. Charlton Heston and Yul Brynner are engaged in a staring and frowning contest for four hours. Or so it seems, at least to a dog. And why on earth do they have Edward G. Robinson chewing the scenery and wanting to call Moses a dirty rat? And why didn't someone stick a knife in his eye during his first scene?

11:54 PM. The human is off to bed. Good night, human. Don't worry, the Red Sea isn't going to crash in on us. For one thing, those were special effects and pretty much the best you could get in the 1950s. For another, the Red Sea is on the other side of the planet.

Sleep well, and have good dreams. If you hear any crashing about in the middle of the night, I swear, it's not me trying to break into the pantry and get into the chocolate Easter bunny stash you have in there.