Hi! This is Frank and I’m doing today’s post. I know my human wrote I don’t “say much” in the byline, but every now and then I have something to say. Today’s one of those days …
My human is a bit ticked off because he woke up this morning and his laptop wasn’t working. And he blames me! Hey, I didn’t even touch it. I usually don’t get up on chairs until he’s sitting down on them because I prefer warmth … and he’s got a really warm lap. Of course, the bed’s another story. Woof (when I talk to my buddies about my human, I call him “Woof”) tries to keep me out of the bedroom, but he’s not always careful to make sure the door is completely shut, so I’ll nose it open and head on in to catch a few zzzz’s. I mean, if you had a choice between some thin mat with a blanket on it and a nice, warm, soft bed with a comforter, which would you choose? Woof’s busted me a few times but all he does is act tough, shake his head and laugh. Every now and then he makes me get up and come back out by him, but most times he’ll turn around and walk out, leaving me to get back to doing what I do best … sleep!
Anyhow, back to the dead laptop. Like I said, I don’t go near it (except for now – I figured he’d write something about me being a “bad dog”, so I wanted to get to you first and tell you my side of the story). I don’t touch anything unless it’s in my space – and my space is anything that’s head high and lower. Oh, every now and then I might sneak my nose up to see what’s on top of a table. Sometimes I get lucky and find something that tastes good. But I didn’t do that this time. This time, all I did was chew on a black, snake-looking thing that was coming out of the wall, winding around on the ground close to my bed and then running up to the side of his laptop. I’ve seen it for a while now (actually, it’s been on the ground laying there ever since I came to live with Woof about 5-6 months ago). But last night, when he was busy watching his picture box … some guys were using sticks to push some black thing around a big pond of ice … this thought just, uhhh, just came to me. “I wonder what that would taste like?” Sooooo, I did what any other dog would do. I tasted it! Not much flavor, but it startled the hell out of me when it bit back on my tongue and some sparky things came out of it! So I left it alone after that.
I’ve tasted a few other things while I’ve been here. Things that Woof’s yelled at me about. One time, there was another big snake that I tasted. That one was blue. It stuck out of his laptop and ran across the floor to a box … he called it an “eat her net” cable. Well, it didn’t look like a net, but hey. If someone says “eat” I’m there! Then there was the writing thing, with a black, gooey liquid in it. That tasted horrible and it made a mess all over my face. I had to endure a bath! Yuuucckkk! You know what I think? If Woof doesn’t want me eating things, then he should make damned sure that they’re not lying in my space!
Like I said, I’ve been here about 5-6 months. I don’t have much recollection of where I was before then. All I know is that I was out jogging one day and this guy in a truck picked me up and brought me to a big place where there were lots of other dogs. Man, too much noise! Everyone was talking at the same time. A few days later, two women came by, pulled me and a couple of other guys out of our cages (I hate cages, by the way), put us in a truck and brought us to another place with cages. It was okay, except for the one time when they took me out to see a guy in a white coat. I didn’t like him very much. He looked me over, made me open my mouth, stuck this thing in my butt (I told him, “HEY, I don’t swing that way, pal!”), and then put a sharp thing in my neck. But that wasn’t the worst of it. I took a nap and when I woke up, I felt really sore “down there”. I went to lick myself .. by the way, I know a joke – “Question: Why do dogs lick themselves? Answer: Because they CAN!” Anyhow, I licked myself and … and … THEY HAD CUT MY NUTS OFF! I mean, come on! Seriously? What did I ever do to them??? What am I supposed to do now … audition for the Vienna Dog’s Choir????
After a while, they put me in a bigger cage, with a little house for me. I had a lot of room and they fed me once a day, which was nice because for a few days there I was having to scrounge for food. What was nicer though was that there were quite a few people there, walking by and visiting, looking at me and my friends. I’d go over and check them out, but they’d walk on. Every now and then, they’d pull out another guy from a cage and take him with them. But not me. Hey, I get it … I’m older … no cute “puppy breath”, but geesh!
I was there for a while. But then one day, Woof came by. He stopped and spent a lot of time there on the other side of the fence. I came over, stood up on it and smiled at him because he was the first one that really showed me any attention. He stayed for a while, then left. So, like usual, I just went back over to my house, figuring he was going to take one of my friends with him. But a little while later, he came back over! Then he called me to come back to the fence and asked me a question: “Do you wanna come home with me, buddy?” So I stood up again, wagged my tail (humans like that) and smiled at him again. Like Woof said, I don’t say much – and when I do, I usually let my tail do most of my talking. He stood up, called one of the ladies over and they took me out of the cage. And I went for a ride with him!
We got in the car … it seemed like we were in it for quite a while … and he kept calling me different, weird names. “Jim. Otto. Dewey.” Quite frankly, I thought he was a bit crazy and was talking to some imaginary friends, so I just kept my head down and stared at nothing in particular. But then I realized he was talking to me! He then said, “Frank!” and I thought, “Frank? Hmmm, that’s not bad. Frank … a real hot dog!” I looked up at him and wagged my tail again. “You like that name? Frank?,” he said. I was thinking, “Hey, call me anything but late for dinner,” but he wouldn’t have understood me if I told him that in “dog,” so I just wagged my tail. Again. He started back in with the name game. “George. Ringo. Woody.” After a while, he said, “Frank?” again, so I looked at him once more and wagged my tail. Again (Sometimes I think he’s a little slow on the up-take.) “Okay,” Woof said, “Frank it is!” And he’s been calling me that ever since!
I like it here. Woof’s been pretty good to me. He feeds me (I especially like something he call’s a “Kid’s Meal” that he gets from some lady in a window every now and then. I don’t get those as much as I like, but what are you gonna do, right?) He lets me sleep in bed with him. He knows I’m afraid of loud noises, like when it rains. He bought me this ridiculous looking “thing” that he makes me wear when it looks like rain. But then again, it does make me feel more safe and secure when the noise happens.
Woof takes me for walks too … but not as much as I like. He’s also stopped playing around with me, tossing my duck and my woolly bone (which I’m not really fond of because it makes a noise when I bite into it. Scared the shit out me the first time I tried it! But I digress …) He’s been kind of sad lately, something that is easy for me to tell because it gives off this “aura” that I can sense. He’ll sit in a chair, not doing anything. So I try to cheer him up. I’ll jump up in his lap and lick him to try and get him to snap out of it … and it does for a while. But then he just seems to go back into being sad. And I hate that! It makes me sad to see him like that. I try real hard to make him feel better, but lately it just hasn’t seemed to be enough.
I remember that he used to take me to a big open field with a lake. We went there quite a bit when it was warmer. He used to laugh when I’d lay down in that lake. As an aside, do you know how hot it is in the summer where we live??? If you had a built-in fur coat … in THAT heat … trust me! You’d be laying in a lake, too! We don’t go there anymore, though. He hasn’t gone anywhere for quite a while.
But Woof says that’s gonna change. A couple of week’s ago, he seemed like he was starting to be less sad. He’s been doing something he calls “planning”. And he’s told me we’re going on a big trip pretty soon. I think I’m up for that, especially since he seems a little happier these days. He’s told me that we’re gonna be “on the road”. I just tell him, “that’s great, but watch out for cars, will ya?”
So that’s it for now – I hear Woof coming back and I don’t want to let on that I’ve been typing. He sees that? He may think that if I can type, then I can wash dishes or something. He keeps saying, “If you only had opposable thumbs, you might be able to help out around here and earn your keep!” Between you and me, though, I’d much rather sleep! What’s a thumb, anyhow???
This has been fun … I might do it again some time, but I’ll have to wait until he’s not around. Take care.
(Oh yeah… Woof, if you read this after it’s posted? TAKE ME TO THE DAMN PARK!!!!)