|
A Dog's Life
by Meagan
Ingrid lay on her favorite piece of furniture; the bed. Oh sure,
John would have her hide. Who cared, though?
Digging her claws into the soft memory foam pillow, Ingrid settled
down for a nap. Ingrid’s eyes stayed the same as always when she
slept; with one open, the other shut. However, her eyes both snapped
open when she spotted something on the tree; a squirrel. She gave
chase.
The squirrel was a tricky one. Every time Ingrid almost had it, it
would swerve under something, causing Ingrid to bang her nose. By the
time the squirrel found enough sense to climb up a tree, Ingrid’s nose
was feeling quite bloated.
Padding back into the house, Ingrid’s head swayed a bit as she climbed
up onto John’s bed. Laying her head down on the pillow, her tail
thumped as she dropped off.
She awoke feeling refreshed, and hey! her nose was a bit better.
Stretching, she eyed the box of crackers that John always kept by his
bed. A little snack never hurt. She knocked the box over, and out
spilled Cheez-its. Alright. Okay. Ingrid loved Cheez-its. Her little
snack turned into a feast.
Hopping off the bed, Ingrid trotted downstairs and out the
doggie-flap. Rain greeted her. She dove back inside the house, and
shook herself. Whoops. There went John's clean new coat, all covered
in rainwater. Oh well. That was where the washing machine had its
purpose. Ingrid raised her right paw in one of those characteristics
of those clever pointer dogs who had no life. Walking down London's
streets with your Mistress's parasol swinging by your head,
threatening to knock your eyeball out? Ingrid didn't plan on that kind
of life. She planned on...
Were those hot dogs she smelled? Turning the corner to peer cautiously
into the kitchen, Ingrid's true passion greeted her. Looked like John
had forgotten to put something away. Ingrid set right to work gnawing
the hot dog. But it was missing something.
Of course! Ingrid slid off the chair and tugged on the refrigerator
door with her paw. It came open, revealing the missing ingredient.
Ketchup! But ugh, it was Motz's Ketchup. That stuff was gross, all
runny and...simply gross.
Ingrid abandoned the refrigerator and padded down the stairs into the
basement. Grabbing her favorite kind of Ketchup, (Hunt's) she opened
the bottle with her claws and lept back up the stairs. She poured the
ketchup all over her hot dog.
She ate it.
"This is what a dog's life is." she thought to herself, polishing off
the last bit.
6.2007
|
