No Best Friend for Dogs

           Life as a dog isn't too bad. I get treated pretty well, and my family takes care of me. Except the time they betrayed me. 

           I shoulda known something was up. They gave me extra scraps, good scraps. That’s one of the first perks of doghood, getting the scraps. At the same time, I get the scraps. Don’t get me wrong, they are usually pretty good (who doesn’t love people food?), but do I look like a garbage disposal? Just because you find it revolting does not mean I think it is any better. There is some kind of jacked-up paradigm among humans that just because they walk on two legs and have opposable thumbs certain foods are no longer edible. Apparently, the four-legged creatures have been reduced to the floor lickers, if only for convenience of proximity. It is a testament to my strength and superiority that I can lick the floor, eat the crap…er scraps, tossed to me, and still survive.

Back to my story. My family was all cuddly, and talking in baby voices to me. In hindsight, I think they were trying to put me at ease. But do they really have to talk to me like that, like I am some pre-mobile, infantile pudge-ball? It does not change my ability to comprehend human speech. If I barked like a puppy, would you understand it any better? I mean, seriously, do I look like I am 2 years old? After all, my years are seven times that of my owners. They are the real pups here. Not to mention, they have so many noises and they all just sound like the noises I make when I am about to hurl up my dinner. Anyways.

So, my family gave me an extra warm bath, nice fur-cleaning-bubbles, trimmed my toenails, the whole bowl of kibbles, ya’know? Allow me to say, though, that my ability to give myself a bath whenever I want, wherever I want is another great perk of canine life. And no one freaks out if it’s in public. That can come in real handy. Unfortunately, the only washcloth I have is my tongue. Have you ever licked dog hair? You think it smells bad, well let me tell you, brother, it tastes even worse. But hey, how many people get to lick and sniff their butts without criticism? Not many.

They put the leash on me next. I was getting excited, thinking we were going to meet some nice she-dogs. I had been itching (literally) for some female company, if you know what I mean. Unfortunately, cute pooches weren’t on the to-do list. Just the opposite, actually.

            I rode in the back of the truck. That is the place to be. I feel like humans always give me strange looks when I stick my tongue out in the wind. They think it is so funny. Ha. They are the ones that go to swimming pools but don’t like to get wet. What a joke.

We went to this weird place I had never been before. It was a building down town, not far from the dog-food store. I stayed close to my owner, trying to act extra obedient, though my tail was flapping kinda nervous-like. A strange man took my leash and led me into a room that smelled horrible. It was like the bathroom in my owner’s house right after they “cleaned” it, but the smells were ten times stronger. I kid you not, I felt my brain burning from the gaseous fire that went up my sniffer. That was when I knew I was gonna die.

            Suddenly, they jabbed me with a needle. It was like they thought I couldn’t feel or something. I howled, trying to say, “Hey! I am alive here too, buddy. Want me to show you how it feels?” So I bit him. I bit him good. The yelp he made was almost intelligible Dog-Bark. Who knew pain could make people speak other languages?

            Then, I started to get all woozy, kinda like that time I ate some bad eggs that I found in the trash can. Don’t judge me.

The next thing I knew, I was waking up. I felt…different. But I wasn’t sure exactly how. I felt like my thoughts were in a higher register. There was a pain in my private regions, a burning numbness, like another time when I fell asleep sitting in the snow. I think the worst realization was that I had no more desire to see she-dogs. Suddenly, they were just like any other dog in my mind.

            I am still not sure why my humans did what they did. Let’s just say that I can’t stand chasing balls anymore...the memories of what I lost are just too painful.