I stumbled upon this site and this week was inspired to play.
Four, Five, Six…
The pug next door said it was useless to count the humans. He said there were too many and since you didn’t know which ones were good and which not, why bother? I asked him what he counted. He said he counted the dark times.
The dark times, what? He explained further that as there were times the room was bright and times when it wasn’t. He counted the times it wasn’t. He said a poodle clued him in, the dark times signaled an end and the start of a beginning. The poodle noted how when the bright came after the dark another bowl of food was delivered.
Nine, Ten, Eleven. . .
I was confused as to how counting the dark times was any less useless than counting the humans. I liked counting the humans. There were more of them than dark times and it was more fun. Some of the humans were nice. The short ones like to pat my head. Some of those had sticky fingers. Now and again I got to taste peanut butter they left behind.
Fourteen, Fifteen, Sixteen…
I heard the pug sigh loudly when he got to sixteen. I asked if all was well. He said no one made it past twenty dark times. I wasn’t sure what he meant by that, though I did notice the chocolate lab and that weird terrier were gone and a different poodle and a stout bulldog were in their places. I’d lost track of my dark times, since I was counting humans but if pug was on sixteen my count had to be more. I was here before him.
Nineteen….
Oh goody, more humans and they have some short ones with them. I just love the short humans. I think I’ll wag my tail. They seem to like when I do that. The short humans giggle when I waggle my tail.
“Mommy, please Mommy, please, please, please…may we have this one!!”
The pug next door said it was useless to count the humans. He said there were too many and since you didn’t know which ones were good and which not, why bother? I asked him what he counted. He said he counted the dark times.
The dark times, what? He explained further that as there were times the room was bright and times when it wasn’t. He counted the times it wasn’t. He said a poodle clued him in, the dark times signaled an end and the start of a beginning. The poodle noted how when the bright came after the dark another bowl of food was delivered.
Nine, Ten, Eleven. . .
I was confused as to how counting the dark times was any less useless than counting the humans. I liked counting the humans. There were more of them than dark times and it was more fun. Some of the humans were nice. The short ones like to pat my head. Some of those had sticky fingers. Now and again I got to taste peanut butter they left behind.
Fourteen, Fifteen, Sixteen…
I heard the pug sigh loudly when he got to sixteen. I asked if all was well. He said no one made it past twenty dark times. I wasn’t sure what he meant by that, though I did notice the chocolate lab and that weird terrier were gone and a different poodle and a stout bulldog were in their places. I’d lost track of my dark times, since I was counting humans but if pug was on sixteen my count had to be more. I was here before him.
Nineteen….
Oh goody, more humans and they have some short ones with them. I just love the short humans. I think I’ll wag my tail. They seem to like when I do that. The short humans giggle when I waggle my tail.
“Mommy, please Mommy, please, please, please…may we have this one!!”
Wow....I had to read that a few times, what an intense story. Well done. I really think the site you found is very cool.
ReplyDeleteThat makes me want to go adopt another dog.
ReplyDeleteVery well written...
ReplyDeleteLiv and I used to go to the shelter occasionally and it used to break my heart. SO many big dogs. You could just see the writing on the wall. They had been cute puppies and then...well, they began growing and yes, training was frustrating. So, they were brought in. Whoever brought them in probably told themselves that someone would adopt them, no big deal. But, the small dogs ALWAYS get picked first. Those big labs just broke my heart.
ReplyDeleteWorking in rescue is murder. I want to take them all home. Then, I remember the carpet, bluetooth, 6 pairs of shoes, 5 pairs of eyeglasses and assorted other items the last one ate.
ReplyDeleteI love anything written from an animal's perspective! This was so much fun - serious subject, yes - but fun to read just the same... Thanks!
ReplyDeleteAwww....how sweet!
ReplyDeleteNow I want to go visit the local shelter!