34. Ode to Mutts
There was a likeness between them. As they gazed at each other each felt: Here am I—and then each felt: But how different!
“Oh, Flush” said Miss Barrett. For the first time she looked him in the face. For the first time Flush looked at the lady lying on the sofa.
Each was surprised. Heavy curls hung down on either side of Miss Barrett’s face; large bright eyes shone out; a large mouth smiled. Heavy ears hung down on either side of Flush’s face; his eyes, too, were large and bright: his mouth was wide. There was a likeness between them. As they gazed at each other each felt: Here am I—and then each felt: But how different! Hers was the pale worn face of an invalid, cut off from air, light, freedom. His was the warm ruddy face of a young animal; instinct with health and energy. Broken asunder yet made in the same mould, could it be that each completed what was dormant in the other?”
— Virginia Woolf, Flush: A Biography (1933)
Prompt:
Write a scene from an imaginary biography of a pet. It can be yours or, like Virginia Woolf, a take on the secret life of someone else’s pet. Extra points for parody, or if it’s written from the pet’s perspective.
Alejandra Redondo
Location: Mexico City
About: I was inspired by Maki, my chihuahua. She is a whole character, we are always making fun of the things we think she would say or thinks. So this was very special and fun for me to do, and as crazy as it seems, not so weird. I love her.
Age: 30
Por fin alguien escribe por mí, llevo hablando durante años y a veces ellos entienden, otras veces sólo me miran a los ojos perplejos con mi ternura, cuando lo que intento hacer es enfocarlos con intensidad para ver si así logran comprender, pero es inútil, hay algo en el hecho de que los ojos se me salgan de las cuencas, que hace que en ocasiones no me tomen con absoluta seriedad. Será porque los suyos siempre están al fondo, incluso más que en otros humanos, con la combinación de alegría y tristeza que más clara me resulta interpretar.
Quiero hablar de estos días extraños en los que mis humanos salen por un máximo de 20 minutos a la calle y, aunque me alegra tenerlos a mi disposición, me intriga un poco. Limpian cada cosa que entra a la casa como si fueran mis patitas después de hundirme en el lodo, y lo que es mi papá, prácticamente no sale del cuarto donde habla todo el día con una pantalla, mientras trae puestas unas orejeras.
Vine a sentarme con mi tía Ale para supervisar lo que escribe, de hecho me gusta este momento entre ella y yo, con el sol de la mañana en el sillón, creo que las dos estamos agradecidas con esa posibilidad, y aunque su frecuencia energética ha cambiado en estos meses por la ausencia de mi tío Pablo, sé que se esfuerza. Yo he tratado de darle muchos besos y demostrarle mi cariño al elegirla casi siempre para compartir mi calor, creo que le ha ayudado mucho.
Hablando de cosas que podrían modificarse en mis humanos, quiero hablar sobre la postura de meditación, ¿qué necesidad de estar sentados? Le voy a mandar un whatsapp a Buda para que lo aclare: el máximo estado de meditación es acostados, como el savasana en yoga y he tratado de mostrárselos, pero no lo entienden. Parte de mi misión queda entonces sin cumplir.
¿Lo del whats? Bueno, es una forma de decir a mi comunicación constante y privilegiada con el otro lado, le puse ese apodo para que los humanos entiendan el acto de comunicarse sin verse físicamente. Todo se les tiene que explicar con redes sociales.
En fin, soy afortunada porque puedo salir a mi pedacito de naturaleza, pero aunque lo deteste, como mi abuela la ida al salón, me urge un manicure; y me gustaría ir pronto al bazar, mi tía Ale no ha querido volver, así que llevo meses sin presumir mi belleza por allá. O de menos un paseo por mi calle favorita: Francisco Sosa.
Igual estoy contenta con todos mis humanos aquí, rascando la puerta cada que quiero entrar o salir y recibiendo cariños porque sí, a lo largo de todo el día.
Tuve un comienzo en la vida un poco difícil, pero ahora tengo muchísimo amor. A veces trato de ver a mi tía Ale con los mismos ojos de explicación, para decirle que aunque te hayan tocado tormentas en la azotea y te sientas muy chiquita, sale el sol cuando te vuelven a querer; y te sientes enorme y vuelves a ladrar y demostrar tu amor.
Sé por los whats con mi tío Pablo que eso quiere él y también sé (aunque ella no) que se van a volver a ver. La miraré más fijamente a la próxima, a ver si así la logro convencer.
Annette Aghazarian
Location: Montreal
About: I had a very special bond with my dog. He taught me the real meaning of unconditional love.
Age: 53
Nobody wanted me. I don’t know why. I didn’t last long anywhere. Maybe they thought I was ugly. I wasn’t a purebred. I was black with big ears and feet.
Steve brought me home and tried to convince his wife that I would make a wonderful pet. They fought. The lady said that they would get kicked out of their apartment. She told him that she wouldn’t pick up dog crap and she had no time to take care of this animal.
I followed her everywhere. If she sat on the toilet, I waited beneath her feet. If she took a bath, I laid next to the tub on the mat. I wanted so much for her to love me. It didn’t take long.
Within months I could sleep in her bed. She bought me treats and would speak to me in the sweetest voice. She would kiss my snout and whisper the kindest words that I’ve ever heard. I was her beautiful boy and she promised that she would always take care of me. I promised her that I would always protect her.
We had to move. It was my fault. I would howl when she was gone. I loved her more than anything and she knew it.
I grew into my ears and she was right. I was very handsome and everyone loved me. I had so many friends. Neighbours gave me treats and children came to play with me. I lived a good long life. I was well fed, I slept in a warm bed and I was surrounded by love all of the time.
I knew I was sick for a while but I held on. I didn’t want her to know that I was suffering. She had the baby to take care of now. I didn’t want to be a burden. When she brought me to the vet and he told her that there was no hope, I couldn’t console her. She howled in the car all the way home. She made me bacon and eggs. Every time she looked at me she would cry. I didn’t wanna let her go but I couldn’t cause her any more pain.
It’s been 16 years since I’ve been gone. I visit her in her dreams because I know that she still misses me. I also know that when she walks alone at night she’s not afraid. She can feel me beside her, because I promised that I would always protect her.
Cristina De La Rosa
Location: Monterey Park, CA
About: My dog Carol knew I had thyroid cancer before I did; for months leading up to my cancer diagnosis, I would wake up to Carol and me sharing a pillow. After my surgery, it happened less frequently. She died in January 2019 from a brain tumor and we miss her every day.
Age: 38
I am laying in my little bed and I am ready to sleep for the night, but she is not ready. It is always the same thing I want to go to bed and she is not ready, and I have to wait for her! She is sitting in a chair and looking at the bright screen for a very, very long time. She is my favorite person in the pack. She feeds me and she gives me my favorite bone treats that take a long time to eat but taste so delicious and is worth every excruciating bit to get to every last crumble. She finally gets up and starts moving around.
Is it time?
She leaves. I'm too tired to follow her. All the lights are still on and there are noise and faint smells of dinner still in the air. Tonight, they had mouthwatering chicken and my dinner smelled a little different but still good. When I finished my bowl, I was able to go underneath their table and eat some more! There is one person in the pack who always drops food. I'm starting to get hungry again, maybe she's going to get a treat for me. She is gone for a long time and I don't smell any yummy food. Maybe I should look for her. No, there she is.
Is it time?!
She comes back and closes the door. She is moving around, taking things off and putting on other items. I don't understand why she is moving objects in the room. She is always doing this. It seems to me a pointless activity, but she does it all the time. It really doesn’t matter; my eyes just follow her the whole time because it is almost time. She moves soft pillows and blankets around our bed. She walks towards me and picks me up!
It is time!
She walks me outside and we return to the house. We see everyone in the pack, there are five of us total. She takes me back to the room. She turns off the lights and we do our favorite activity. We go to sleep in our bed. When we first lay down together there is a lot of moving around for both us. We are both trying to find the softest spot on the bed. For me it is sometimes too cold, and I try to find the warmest spot which is right next to her. So, I get as close as I can usually by her butt it is also the smelliest place, the best place to be. It is hard for me to smell things - I always have liquid coming out my nose. Sometimes I have a hard time breathing so I take deep breaths through my mouth. And every day she puts drops in my nose, and it makes me sneeze every time, but it is ok. I get a treat afterwards and it smells so strong. Now it is time for us to settle down and we eventually fall asleep.
I wake up. A sound awakes me. No, I think she wakes me up. She moves around a lot in our bed. Maybe I should see what the others in the pack are doing or I could go and sleep with them? I walk around on the bed, maybe she will wake up. She does not but even if she does, she won't let me sleep in another bed, she tells me "we don't go bed hopping at night." Whatever that means. If she does wake up, then she will let me go outside. I could do that. It doesn't matter. I can wait until the morning. There are no sounds in the house. There are not even different smells in the air. I just smell one thing: a foul odor. I should find it. It is coming from her neck; I don't know what it is, but I don't have a good feeling about it. I think it is getting stronger or taking over her neck, I think it is coming from that bump on her neck. It should not be there, but I can't get to it. Ok then, I will get as close as I can to her. Plus, it is the softest spot on our bed.
Flynn
Location: Stuart, Florida
About: I had a dog, once...
Age: 58
The Mutt
Mister Fancy was my name before I got here, to this place. I was “Mister Fancy,” or “Mister,” or “Fancy,” or sometimes just “Fan.” Sometimes “Boy.” Sometimes just ”Dog.”
I knew who I was. I knew what I was.
I had a great people family. Knew ‘em 8 years, since I was weaned. They were great. They loved me. The older people, Lisa and Jack, they loved me. The 3 kids loved me. I loved them. I know love. I can feel it. They’d give me good food. Good treats. Sometimes they’d all sing a song at me, “Happy Birth-day Mister Fannnn-ceeee, Happy Birth-Dayyyy to yooooouuu!”
Then I’d have to eat through some paper to get my new toy. I don’t know why they always did that—I guess they thought I couldn’t smell a new toy through paper—but I’d put on a show for them anyway. Make ‘em laugh.
We’d go to the park and run around, or the beach and run around. Run around, run, run, run around. The kids would chase me, and I’d chase them, laughing, laughing, laughing. Happy. Everybody was so happy. I’d get a belly rub. Then I go to the next one, act like I hadn’t gotten a belly rub in years, and get another belly rub. Then I’d go to the next one and act like I hadn’t gotten a belly rub in years, and so on. Then home.
One night, the kids were in bed, and Lisa was crying. I heard words. “No money.” ”New Job.” “Moving. “New place.”
“No pets allowed.”
I put my head on Lisa’s knee, and she just lost it. Crying.
“Oh, Mister, what are we gonna do? What are we gonna do with you?” Sobbing, she was.
I knew it wasn’t good. I knew it wasn’t good when she told Jack, “You do it. Just take him there when the kids are at school. I can’t. You take Mister”....she shivered.
“I’ll explain it to the kids.”
It was really bad.
The kids were getting ready for school. Happy. I was so sad. They didn’t know I wouldn’t be there when they got back home after school, and I couldn’t tell them. I wanted to. But I knew I couldn’t. Then they left, and I never saw them, or Lisa, again.
Jack took me to this place. He was crying in the car. He couldn’t hold it in. “I’m sorry, Mister Fancy! I’m so sorry, Boy! Oh my God...I’m so sorry!” He was crying a lot.
I heard dogs barking.
It went quick. I was dropped off, and Jack was still crying when he left. He looked at me once and walked away holding his hands over his ears, and I never saw Jack again.
And then I heard the barking get loud, and I got scared, and I peed right there.
My new name was This One 27. So very suddenly, I became This One 27, or That One 27, or just 27. Sometimes Boy. Sometimes just Dog.
I knew who I was. I knew what I was.
There were a lot of dogs. It was loud. It was cold. It smelled so, so, bad. I noticed that we all had the same name. That One, or This One, only with a different number. It was confusing. Scary, loud, cold, smelly, confusing. Very, very scary. I was shaking a lot. A lot of the dogs were shaking.
Every couple of days, I’d get leashed by a Walker. They are some of the nicest, kindest people. Like, they don’t want to be here, either.
I’d get walked into a glass room with some people peering in. They’d look at me. I’d look at them, like, “are you getting me out of here?” They’d say, “That One,” and I’d hope it was me. Sometimes I’d go into a room with them, and act like I hadn’t gotten a belly rub in years. Then I go to the next one and act like I hadn’t gotten a belly rub in years. Then I’d go to the next one and act like I hadn’t gotten a belly rub in years. So on.
Then back to my cage.
Every day at the same time, before the food came, the Walkers would come in with leashes, and muzzles, and clipboards, and That One would get taken away, and That One, and That One, and That One 36, and That One, That One, That One 19....
Sometimes they’d go with their tails wagging. Sometimes they’d fight with everything they had, only to be muzzled and dragged off through some swinging doors....
And I’d never see them again.
I was learning. I knew what it meant.
I know death. I can feel it.
This morning, the Walkers came for That One, and That One, and That One, and That One there, That One, That One...
...and then I was This One.
I panicked, straight off. I barked, and yelped, I even growled—I didn’t even know what that was until I did it right then. I fought, and fought....and I got muzzled, and then leashed, and dragged through some swinging doors into a different room, where the smell of death was loud.
It was all happening so quickly. I was squirming and shaking so bad, being held down on a table by two Walkers while another was getting a pointy thing ready—I remembered the pointy thing all the way back from when I was a pup. The Walker was sticking it into a bottle, and sucking the liquid into the pointy thing. She was saying nice things to me. “It’s OK, Boy, I’m not going to hurt you...,” while she was pushing some hair away on my leg. She was jusssst about ready with the pointy thing....when...
....the swinging doors slammed open and a Walker came running over to the table saying, “No, no, no!!! Did you?? Did you!!?...”
She yelled, “NOT THAT ONE!!!”
“He was adopted!!! His new family is here NOW!”
They took me out of that bad room quickly. They took me back to the glass room.
I’m going home with my new people family. I’m still nervous, and still shaking a little bit, but not so scared anymore. They’re being really nice to me. Petting me, rubbing my belly, kinda like it used to be. In fact, somebody must have told them how it used to be. I knew that I was no longer “That One,” when I heard the leash clank, and then someone say, “Hey, Mister Fancy, wanna go for a walk with us?”
Jocelyn Ball-Edson
Location: Kansas City, MO
About: I'm a landscape architect, retired from city government, formerly too busy leading tours and giving lectures about historic monuments and fountains, and with other groups & activities. The Shutdown simplified my life and allowed me the time to focus on my garden as much as I've always wanted to. The journal prompts inspired me to write again, which I used to do as well.
Age: 62
WANDERINGS
My earliest memories are of my soft fuzzy siblings, crowding around me and keeping me warm, feeling confused but for some reason safe. I remember my mother, vaguely. She licked me and nursed me and circled around me and my siblings. I remember sleeping encompassed within a pile of paws and fur. It was a good time.
Then something happened. Something scary and confusing. I’m not sure what, or why, exactly. Humans picked me up in the air, turned me this way and that, passed me from one to the other. My feet could not touch the ground. Their voices were cold and frightening, and so were their eyes as I looked into their fac- es. They didn’t like me, and I immediately didn’t like them either. They put me back down, and picked up my siblings. Some of my brothers didn’t come back – they got carried off by other people. Then, two of us were left. We cried and whined, and our mother looked up at the humans with sadness and longing. She licked the two of us that were there, and she seemed to be saying goodbye. I didn’t know what that meant at the time, but soon it came clear. When they picked us up again, they put us in some kind of box, and then carried us to a weird noisy box that moved. We moved through space and sunlight, things passed us very fast or we passed things. And then it stopped. They took our little box out and set it on the ground and walked away. The humans got back into their big box and went away. It was quiet. We waited to see what would happen next.
My brother decided to climb out of the box and look around. He was a rebel. I followed him, but I was scared. The ground was funny, rocky and dirt and there were big trees and lots of brush. There were strange noises and creatures every way we turned. I was hungry and wanted to go back to my mother and have a nice meal. But my brother and I wandered around our new surroundings and searched for things to eat. We found a little stream where we drank water, which was wonderful. I played with a bug, and then I thought, I wonder what that tastes like? So I ate it. It was not terrible! We found some more and ate those.
Little by little we figured out things we could eat, some better than others. My brother seemed to fit into this place better than I did. I wasn’t comfortable, but he was sure that it was better than being near people, and I figured he was probably right, if all people were like those mean ones that looked at me so coldly. But one day I saw a person, walking in our woods. I thought, “I’m going to find out if they are all the same.” So I walked up towards the man, and he yelled at me and threw a stick at me! I jumped backwards and ran away.
So, I guessed they were all the same. It made me sad, but at least I had my brother. But we didn’t always agree. I wanted to go to the east, where I knew there were houses and more people, which was scary to be sure, but there was also more food. He thought we could find more small animals and things to eat in the woods and be safer from people. But there were also some scary things in the woods, like coyotes and snakes – I hate snakes. And several things that made me itch all the time. My fur was very thick, which was great when we first lived in the woods, when it was cold, but then it got hot, and I was very hot. And there were people there too, sometimes. Some of them lived in the woods like we did and others just seemed to appear and then go away.
One day several people came in a group, with lots of yelling and trampling around, and then we heard a horrible noise. Suddenly a giant came crashing through the trees, knocking them down and scooping them out of its way. Then more people came into the woods, with weapons that made more horrible noise, and more trees fell down. We were terrified. All the animals were terrified. The birds flew away, squirrels jumped and ran from tree to tree, fleeing in front of the destruction. Foxes, deer, racoons, pos- sums – even the biggest coyotes - all ran for their lives. And so did we. In the confusion and panic, my brother ran one way, and I ran another. We got separated and I couldn’t find him for a long time. When it got dark the scary noises stopped, and we all hovered wherever we were, waiting to see what would hap- pen next.
Little by little we each stepped out of our hiding places, trying to make sense of what had happened. I called and barked for my brother but could not find him. I wandered around in the dark, sniffing for any- thing familiar, but there was nothing I recognized – neither scent nor sight. I had run to some place I’d not been before and I was scared and lonely. Eventually I was so tired I curled up and slept in the leaves next to a log.
When the daylight returned, birds started singing and chirping, as if nothing had happened, except they were different birds, not my usual neighbors. Then I heard some of those who had been dislocated, call- ing fearful warnings to their new companions. I asked them if they knew where my brother was. They did- n’t know but sent out a call through their network. As the sun rose into the sky we heard the dreaded noise again, in the distance from where we had fled and we knew we could not go back. I wandered fur- ther into the new territory. After some time searching, I found some water, a stream like the one I knew before, but bigger, wider. While I was drinking I realized others were also along the edges of the water. When I looked at them each, I discovered, on the opposite shore, my brother was there. I called out to him and he saw me – I asked how he’d gotten there, and he replied with a story of fleeing until, still chased by the giant, he escaped into the river, nearly drowning before he found shallow water and sand bars. He said things on that side of the river were not bad, and he found companions, other dogs who looked different but were still dogs. I asked him to come back across and go east with me, into the neighborhood with the houses where we could find food and maybe some safe place to stay. But he asked me to find the crossing, and come over to his side of the waters. I could see he liked it there, but I still didn’t feel I belonged there, and something called me to leave the woods and go east.
We both lingered there, talking and barking to each other, and it became clearer that it was time for us to go our separate ways. We said goodbye, and I promised to come back to the woods if I didn’t find some- thing better. Eventually, we turned away from the water, and each other, and I wandered to the east.
The next morning I found the edge of the woods, and vaguely familiar scary moving boxes flew past. It was a daunting strip of terror, but I knew I had to cross it to get to the houses beyond. I watched and wait- ed until there were no boxes coming and I could not hear any in the distance, and then I ran across the open space and into a yard.
I could smell something intriguing, something delicious. I searched and sniffed my way to a can of all sorts of wonderment! Treats of meat and bones to chew on, and scraps of bread and some sort of mixed up mash of yumminess. I was so happy! But then, someone came out of the house and yelled at me and started throwing sticks at me. Again! I thought people must always throw sticks and yell. I ran and jumped over a little fence and kept on running until I could not hear that person yelling any more. I hid in some bushes and waited to see if they chased me. Nobody came after me.
I wandered further east. Something called me, as if I knew my destiny waited for me there. I kept walking, climbing over and under fences, or skirting along the ribbons of the noisy boxes, and waiting until they were out of site and sound before I crossed those places. I hid from people and now and then I found an- other dog to play with, or who had a bowl of food sitting out in the yard. Whenever they were willing to share, or I could sneak in while they were sleeping, I snatched these delightful treats as often as I could. And still I wandered east.
When I came to a huge ribbon, or really a group of many ribbons of those evil moving boxes, I was stuck. It was frightening and I didn’t know how to get across. Perhaps that was as far east as I could go? But I hadn’t found my home yet! I had come to believe in my destiny, calling me, and it was out there, beyond the scary, noisy boxes. Once again, I waited, and watched, until I figured out which place to cross each one, one at a time, usually in the dark. It took me several days to cross them all since I had to hide in the tall grasses and reeds in the ditches in between for most of the daylight.
Once I crossed that terror, I felt I had conquered something huge, and I wandered farther, into a new neigh- borhood with larger yards and fewer houses. But there were all sorts of delights here – the usual garbage can offerings, and other dogs’ bowls, but also ponds of water to drink and beautiful gardens to rest in. There were large masses of flowers that smelled so good, even if I couldn’t eat them. After just a few days I found a large yard where lived a big German Shepherd named Duke. He was lonely and seemed happy to have me join him. We became friends and he shared his food and let me sleep in a cozy little house in his yard. My poor new friend was chained so he could only roam back and forth across his yard. He was very interest- ed in my stories of the world beyond there. He had always dreamed of wandering too. I told him it wasn’t al- ways so great, that it was lonely too and there were lots of scary things out there.
As we got to be friends, I would wander around the neighborhood and report back to him. He would tell me what he knew of the people around us. Those to the north were mostly quiet, other than when they came out to cut their lawn now and then, but everyone apparently did that at some point. They weren’t particularly friendly, though they weren’t mean either. Next door to them, those people changed all the time – they came and went and some were nice enough but they never seemed to care about being friends with my new friend. Now, the house on the south, in the yard that was connected to ‘our’ yard was a nice person. Duke told me she came to visit him sometimes, and gave him treats. When his people were away she would come and feed him and teach him tricks. He loved her. He remembered a scary moment when he was a puppy and he got his chain caught in the tree, and was hanging by his collar. He screamed and cried and that lady next door, and another neighbor beyond her, came running over and saved him. A few times he’d managed to break his chain, and he ran over to her yard, or once into her garage, in hopes that she’d let him live there. But he always had to go back to his people, who were not very nice and just got him a bigger chain. Duke told me I should get to know that lady next door.
So I wandered in and around her yard, watched her when she was in the garden. Some days I would get brave and walk up behind her. But whenever she turned around I got scared and jumped back. She never yelled or threw sticks at me though. Then one day she threw tasty little treats at me! I didn’t understand at first, what was happening. But then I smelled them, and carefully I crept up to one and ate it. It was wonderful! Just like Duke had said, this lady had TREATS! Every time I saw her out in the yard after that, I went over and sat somewhere nearby. And she talked to me and gave me treats. Sometimes, she even fed me whole bowls of food, and she put out a big bowl of water for me all the time. Little by little, I got braver, and I got closer to her. And then, one day, it happened – she touched me! I had suspected it by then, but at that moment I knew – I had found my destiny! She was the person I’d always wanted, the one I hoped existed even without proof that people could be good. I found my HOME, where I belonged and could stay forever! After that, when she would kneel down and work in the garden, I would lean against her back and guard her from all others. At the same time I knew she was protecting my back, and we belonged to each other.
She made me a safe place in part of the yard, where I could stay all day, and at night she brought me into her house and I slept by her bed. She took me for rides in her box and it wasn’t scary at all! I grew to love riding in the box! It went to lots of fun places where I got to walk with her, and she never once left me there alone! Out in my own yard – MY OWN YARD – I could still hang out with Duke, and we’d bark to each other and tell stories. Next door on the other side was another dog, Jerry. We were friends too and he had very nice people. It was a wonderful time! I felt my love grow for my person. I got to eat every day, I got brushed and patted and hugged. I was warm in the winter. The most miraculous thing might have been that when it was hot and miserable outdoors, inside that house it was cool and comfortable! Oh, and my person gave me a name. She called me Wander. Wow, did she get me!
Now there was just one thing.... In that house, and in MY YARD, and taking up some of MY person’s attention, there was this CAT! At first, she was kind of scary, and she was scared of me too. We didn’t understand each other and she had been there a long time already, and she didn’t want to share her per- son. But we discovered that our person was so nice to both of us that neither of us felt left out. The cat sat on her lap and I sat at her feet, and she patted us both at once. But only I got to go for walks!
Eventually, Duke went away. I missed him. Then Jerry also went away and I missed him too. And then, the cat got sick, and one day she was gone. I missed her too, which surprised me. I could feel how heart- broken my person was. I made it my mission to keep her company even more, to help her not be so sad. We got even closer, and spent more time going for walks and drives.
One day the doorbell rang. That doorbell changed my world, again. Some kids at the door were trying to find homes for, of all things, CATS! I saw those little squirmy furballs and thought, oh no! Sure enough, my person with the big heart took in those two little monsters! I thought I was done for. But as it turned out, after a few days, they got used to me and I learned to accept them. Once in a while, they even played with my tail or snuggled up next to me to sleep. Like before, our person found ways to make us all feel safe and loved at the same time and we eventually got to liking each other too.
Then another day, my person introduced me to another person, and he started spending more time with us. She seemed to like him, so I figured he was probably ok, but I kept an eye on him, just to be sure. He liked me though. He was very nice to me and scratched my ears and fed me treats. He also liked the cats (go figure!). As time went along, I decided I really liked him. We became a whole family and we all got along just great.
Then the funniest thing happened. We moved. Where did we move? Into the most wonderful yard – a huge yard – with trees and woods.... MY WOODS! We moved back to the woods where I’d lived when I was a puppy! I didn’t see my brother again, but I heard stories of him from the birds and squirrels – he’d become a legend in the woods. They told me that he lived in the woods for many months after I left and was a courageous leader among the Dog Tribe. Eventually though, and only gradually, he’d made friends with his own person who visited him and fed him treats and convinced him to go live with her. I was glad he found the same joy I had found. In my new yard I could run as fast as I wanted, and I could chase and play with the squirrels. I would wander into the familiar woods in the back of the yard. I sat in the shade and watched for foxes or coyotes or deer. I patrolled the perimeter each day, protecting my people and MY yard. If ever it was hot, I could stay indoors and be comfortable. But when it was cold – my favorite time – I could practically fly across the snowy yard, and roll in the fluffy white magic stuff, then come in- doors with my family, nap in front of the fire and revel in the joy of my life!
- Wander Ball-Edson (translated by his person, Jocelyn)
Katie Wesolek
Location: Nashville, TN
About: This pet biography parody is modeled after John Steinbeck's Travels with Charley. My dog, Charlie, is named partly for this book and partly for Charlie Brown. He is definitely more the downtrodden sad-sack of the Peanuts gang than noble companion that Steinbeck heralded in his book.
Age: 35
Travels with Charlie, a Steinbeck Parody
...It is some years, or maybe only months, that we have been alone, nameless, friendless, without any of the safety one gets from family, friends, and accomplices. There is no reality anymore. It's just a very lonely, helpless feeling - a kind of desolate feeling, but also honestly kind of great.
For this reason, we regret our choice of companion on this strange journey. A smelly old derelict mutt known as Charlie. Or Charles Barkley, Gnarls, Charles Manson, Cujo, or Goddammit Dog, depending on the circumstances of his behavior. He was born in Utah on a farm on the outskirts of the Cache Valley, the unlikely offspring of a fluffy house dog and a horny cattle dog. While he knows a little mutt English, he responds to commands only in the quiet confines of our home, and quite literally cannot even when he is overstimulated by the outside world.
He is quite large for a neurotic lap dog, more than 50 pounds of outrageous fluff and raw nerve endings. He is black and tan when clean and close-cropped; he resembles an old gray mop when disheveled, which is to say most of the time.
Charlie is a born coward. He prefers losing is g.d. mind and going utterly ape when confronted with such adversaries as Bichons, UPS trucks, or small children. Only a handful of times in his nearly 8 years has he maintained his composure, usually when he is very tired from physical exertion or freshly dosed with canine anxiety meds.
But he is a good watch dog - that much is true. He has a roar like an unhinged lion, designed to conceal from night-wandering strangers that he is frequently beaten into submission by the dainty paws of a 13-pound tabby cat.
He is a faithful friend but an atrocious traveling companion, vomiting in the tightest, most difficult-to-clean crevices of any vehicle he enters. He would prefer to incessantly lick his paws or thrash about on his back, beseeching nearby humans for a belly rub, than anything else in this world.
Nicki Judson
Location: Ashburton, New Zealand
About: I love to be creative, whether it be quilting, art or writing.I wrote my prompts from the deepest part of my heart and wasn't afraid to express my true feelings.
Age: 54
My real name is Bluebell, but thank goodness my human had the sense to shorten that to Bella. I am a small, short-haired grey coloured pussy cat princess with big green eyes. I love the term “princess”, but my human sometimes calls me “fart-bum” or “squiggle pop” instead. Those names are very un-regal, don’t you think?
I sleep on the human’s pillow, or rather I allow her to share the corner of it to rest her head. I need my space after all. She is a lazy human who gets up late and I have to nudge her with my extended paw on her nose to get her attention. She awakens, opens her eyes and closes them again. I remind her of her duties and my paw touches her nose again. I do so try not to scratch her, hee hee hee…
I walk down the corridor in front of her, extending my tail upright to show off my little bottom. I clean it on every occasion so she must think my bottom is very, very clean indeed. My human fills my biccie bowl up from my raiding through the night and treats me to some offerings that she calls “temptations”. To show my appreciation, when she tosses them into the bowl, I rub my chin on her hand. Gotta keep the human sweet.
After my munchies I then proceed to the front door to be let out. I realise there is a hole in the door only five footsteps away from my biccie bowl, but that would be too easy. I wait at the door for my human to get off her butt and open it. I even allow her to scratch my head before I toddle off to have a pee and a poo.
Patrick McDonnell
Location: Montreal, Quebec, Canada
About: My husky sends me a message.
Age: 68
A Husky's Life
Wow, you were so much fun! Did we ever go on so many walks and sometimes I got to go by myself. All day in the snow, till it froze on my back and I finally got hungry and came home. But I led you on a wild goose chaise didn't I? What fun!!!!
I am a husky after all, not a dog. Dogs just sit there and obey, I am a person, and I can talk. You heard me when I got bored in the place where you drink that smelly stuff. I was bored out of my mind. Walk me, run me but don't ignore me. I need your love and I will give it back to you in spades.
Let’s go walking now, and I can pull you, I love to pull you to the point where you fall, well not that bad, but on icy sidewalks you do fall but you never let me go. I wonder why? I lick you on your face just to see if you are ok.
And snow - I love snow, I was made for snow. And cold. I love it cold. I sniff things in the wind. I find things that are buried in the snow. So much fun. Then you try to take it away....no fun. I know I am a northern dog, made to pull sleds, I was impressed with the dog sled dogs but they are so hairy and wild. Maybe I would like that...
I love to go to the beauty salon, but I don't. I wail and yowl and I'm glad when you get me at the end and I am so clean and white, I can't wait to get dirty again, so I can clean my self like a cat. I am the hottest bitch around and I know it.
Do you remember when we played catch me in the big farmers field, you and my brother were running behind me and then I turned around and went back to mama in the car because she had kibbles? SO many times I tried to get away, nothing against you, that is just the way I am.
And I love to go to the dog race place, I love it when they all chase me and I am the fastest and then I do the dog leg thing and even the grey hounds fall on their faces!
Your Husky
P.S. When is it meal time? And can we go for a walk?
Sariann Monaco
Location: Near Miami stuck at home
About: My dog, a rescued English Bully is so content with his family at home all day in quarantine. He is my shadow, always keeping me in his sight following me to the bathroom, the laundry room and kitchen between naps.
Age: 54
My lazy day. ~ By my dog, Chancho Mclovin'
This broad...she calls me her chunky bully. She really digs in my nose rope for morsels. I was saving 'doze for later. My tummy feels a little full now anyway. …..snore.....
This sun through the window feels good on my belly. Here she comes again. Why she kisses my head so much I'll never know, but I like it. Is she checking my temperature? She smells like cookies. Sigh ….I lub her.....snore.....
“Chancho, Let's go out!”
Oh she's calling me. Time to lumber out the back door. I'll just meander over by that fat lizard and poop on the garden rocks.
I'll look the other way cuz she's watching me.
I lub her.
Time to snuggle on da couch with mama, she's a nice lady. I lub her...snore