Rachel couldn’t stand the sound of her husband’s snoring every night, and even worse the questions he asked each time she would tell him about it; “Does it sound like this?” he would ask. Months later they adopted a dog, Morty, and Morty snored eactly like Rachel’s husband – “There you go, it sounds just like that!”
I travelled forward in time, eager to see what we had made of the world.
I turned up, found humans ruling everything and immediately went back with a mission to kill each and every single one of our going-to-get-too-big-for-their-collar pets.
Phoebe – a small dog who wasn’t known for her jumping abilities – wasn’t allowed on the furniture but after begging every night, her female owner finally said, “OK, Phoebe, if you can make it onto the bed by yourself, then I’ll let you stay up here.” Moments later Phoebe used all her might and jumped on the bed; her female owner turned to her husband and said, “See, I told you she speaks English.”
With his belly full and his bladder empty, he sits there in the blanket nest I meticulously crafted for him in the center of my bed, smug as I leave for work. Surely he was napping even before I made to the car.
I looked at the headstone where my dog now lay.
And said “The pawprint you left on my heart, will never fade away.”
Bessie, my white-faced golden retriever, trotted over to greet me with a smile and a wagging tail as she always does. She’s the best dog I’ve ever had, and I only wish I was still alive so I could give her the belly rub she so rightfully deserves.
“Sweetie, what on EARTH are you doing?” Claire asked, beyond surprised to see Chelsea, her pig-tailed, freckle-cheeked, pink-shorts-wearing four year-old daughter, hopping repeatedly on one foot for balance while jamming the other down the toilet, two dandelions grasped in one hand while the other worked the flushing lever.
“Well we bringed flowers to Grampa in the hospital yesterday, so now I’m gonna bring flowers to Bubbles,” Chelsea answered matter-of-factly, of course referring to her comrade who had, several weeks ago after a violent incident involving one of his (larger and more aggressive) bowl-mates, been sent via toilet flush to the fishy hospital.
People are always giving away pets and some of them say they’ll visit but they never do.
Me and my brother are forever grateful as we lower the mewling bucket down the well to Dad.