Notes From the Dog

Alright, folks....me, Gus, here. [long, shuddering sigh] I'm a tired, tired dog. I know you probably can't properly understand, but I have been put through the wringer. First off, you already know about That Kid that's been around for almost ten months now, right? Well, I'm here to tell you, he isn't leaving! I've given up on thinking that he might go home soon. He has his own room and everything.

About a month ago, I'd had about all of him that I could stand. Always wanting to touch me, that kid. And his touch is not a gentle touch, let me tell you. He's into SQUEEZING and TWISTING and PULLING. It's a lot to ask of Old Gus. My sleep has suffered lately...I bet you I don't get more than twenty hours of sleep a day. Now, I ask you, how's a dog supposed to function with that kind of deprivation?

Back to the general torment, though. I have a confession to make... I did something kind of evil. After a long bout of harassment at the hands of this kid, I kind of, well....I wished that he'd disappear. I know! I know! It's wrong and mean and selfish, but I'd had all I could take. Mom even washed one of my old toys and just because I haven't played with it in two or three years, she gave it to him! It was the final straw. I wished him gone, went to bed, and like that! He disappeared. I kid you not.

I woke up the next morning and he and mom were GONE. I was a little bummed that mom was gone, but I took advantage and caught up on my sleep. After a few days, I began to worry that I had done something irreversible. They never came back! Eight, nine, ten days....no mom. I admit, I got a little manic and did a little damage to the couch. Two big holes worth of worry, I laid on that couch. I was going out of my mind! Finally, SIXTEEN days later, they came home. Do you know how long that is in dog years! About half my life!

They walked in that door, and I was ready to do anything, ANYTHING! to keep them around. I learned my lesson. I'll let him pet me, pull on me, anything. Just don't leave me again! Oh, the trauma this has caused Old Gus. I've aged at least five months. I have to say, while he was gone, he did become a whole lot more useful to me:

(That's me there, to the left. Notice my toy on his tray. Harumph.) At last, I recovered and was feeling back to normal again, when mom completely lost her mind and came home with this:

I'm never going to rest again! Y'all, this thing is alive. It rolls all over the house and tries to suck me up. I even have to guard that kid against it....it's everywhere! Under my couch, around my food, nothing is safe! I just don't know how much more of this I can take. I snapped a little yesterday. I got after a bag of squash and a box of ziploc bags. I just had to do something, I was feeling insane! (Note to other dogs: I don't recommend either the raw squash or the bags. Not good.)

In closing, folks...keep me in your thoughts. It's been a rough month. And be careful what you wish for.

Thanks for listening,
Gus the Beagle