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Dog's Life

Okay, so I've got this gig, see?  It's a pretty good one ... I've got humans at my beck and call, bringing me food and goodies and chewies and toys whenever I want.  It took me awhile to train them properly, but these days I'm all set.  A dog really couldn't ask for a better life than mine.

Mornings aren't my thing, and my humans have finally learned to let me sleep in.  The Man gets up when it's still dark, apparently because some loud and obnoxious Beeping Machine tells him to do so.  I don't know for sure, I don't speak Beep.  But eventually, after The Man spends some time yelling and smacking The Machine, he inevitably gives in and gets up, silencing The Machine's demands.  For the longest time he dragged me out of bed at the same time.  That was totally unacceptable.  Leave my warm and cozy bed before the sun has come up?  No thanks.  Maybe The Man likes bumbling around in the dark - he does it every day, so he's gotta get some kinda charge out of it - but that just ain't for me.  He finally quit bugging me, thank the bones.  The Lady, though, makes sure that I get up when she does.  I don't mind much because she's my favorite, and you do what you do for favorites, right?  She takes me outside first thing so I can pee on the trees.  I don't get the whole problem with peeing inside - it's warmer in the house and my paws don't get all wet on the grass - but she really, really doesn't like it.  What can I say, humans are weird.

The Boy and The Girl are the short humans in my house.  They live to give me treats and attention, which I encourage every chance I get.  A good human is hard to find, you know.  Let alone humans who hop to when one gives one's belly up for petting.  I know I can count on them to supply the good stuff; it's as easy as offering my paw.  Every morning, all I have to do is sit by my empty bowl to get The Boy to feed me breakfast.  If I wolf it down fast enough, sometimes he'll wait until The Lady isn't looking and give me some more.  I love those days.  The thirsties usually hit about halfway through my morning meal, but one look of disdain at yesterday's water and The Girl gives me a clean, cold fresh bowl.  Not quite as awesome as drinking from the toilet, but since I do that after they leave anyway, I get the best of both worlds. 

After my humans leave, I can lay around all day, snoozing in the sunshine.  My toys are in their box in the corner, if I get restless and want to play.  And there's always the cat to mess with, if I'm feeling especially energetic.  His claws are a lot sharper than mine - and where's the fairness in that, I ask you? - so I don't get in his face much unless I'm up for a good run.  Still, it's nice to sometimes get the paws moving and the heart racing, ya know?

So yeah, it's a good life.  Or it was, until he came along. 


Note to self - feels forced.  Blah.  What I really want to do is write a training manual of sorts from the dog's perspective, but this is what came out.  Stupid fingers, not connecting to the brain.