Just Another Day.
3:07am
"Did you hear that? What was that? Is it morning already? Kasey, what was that? Is it time for breakfast? Hey hey, I think it must be morning. Kasey? Getupgetupgetup!"
"Oh god" I grumble. "Go back to sleep. It's the middle of the night." I open one eye anyway, knowing she is wrong, but still needing to double check; I am kind of hungry, after all. The room we share is nearly black, our two beds shrouded in darkness. I'm curled up in mine, and I take a moment to glare at my sister. She's standing on hers, her whole body rigid with quivering anticipation. She is such a morning person. She makes a noise deep in the back of her throat, and I hiss at her to be quiet. "Don't wake dad!" The door to our room is closed, and I think I can make out the eyes of one of the cats up high on a shelf.
I hear a door open in the hallway, and roll my eyes; Bear's little stub of a tail is whipping around like a propeller, and I wonder that it doesn't come clean off. She launches herself at the door and I'm sure she is going to smash right into it, but instead she skids to a halt and drops to the floor just before it, her nose pressed to the slit underneath. Light spills in, and I hear some noise in the other room. Just mom or dad, going to the bathroom. I rest my head back on my paws, and roll my eyes. "Bear, it's not morning. It's not time to come out yet. " Of course, she ignores me. Her little stub is moving so fast I can feel the air move from across the room. My tail wiggles a bit, much to my chagrin; her excitement can be contagious, I'll give her that. I still my own tail with an embarrassed frown; I'd have blushed, if I could.
Moments pass; the toilet flushes, the taps in the sink run, and then the light turns out. Another second or two, and the door to our parents' bedroom clicks shut. Bear, the silly twit, still thinks it's morning. "Bear, cut it out. I'm going back to sleep." I close my eyes, and soon enough I'm dreaming of squirrels. Likely Bear is still standing at the door as I sleep.
6:59am
There's light outside, now. I have to pee, and I'm beginning to wonder if I'll ever eat again. I'm sure it's been weeks since the last time we had a meal. Weeks! Bear's awake, but the silly monster is lying on her back, a dazed expression on her face. She's drooling a little bit, too. It must be almost time to-
The bedroom just opened! My sister beats me to our door only by a tail -and a stub of a tail at that. Her tail is at it again, but then mine is a little out of my control too. I don't care; I'm nearly positive that its breakfast time! We hear the bathroom, and mom talking to the cats. The felines are crowded outside our door; they get fed in here, while we go downstairs to eat. Humans have the strangest ideas about these things.
Our door opens, and ohmygodtheresmommy! For a moment, everything's chaos; cats bound in past us, heading towards their prospective spots. Bear and I charge mom, circling around her in a rush. "mommymommymommymommymommy" Bear is repeating over and over in excitement, and I'm embarrassed to admit I'm almost as bad. She pushes past us, muttering something that sounds annoyed in Human that I don't quite make out, and the door clicks shut. I hear the cats demanding their breakfast, so I charge downstairs; Bear remains outside our room -by running ahead of her, I avoid being trampled on the stairs by my gigantic klutz of a sister.
I hear the door open, and mom starts down the stairs. Ok, I admit; at this point I'm pretty excited. I can smell the cat food upstairs, and I can smell my own food in that darn frustrating plastic bin. Why are human's so slow? Doesn't mom realize I'm starving to death here?! "Mom!" I shout, "C'mon! Hurry up!"
Bear crashes down the stairs with her usual grace; I wince a bit at the colossal crash as she smashes into a wall while trying to take a tight corner, moving at about ninety past the speed limit. With all the elegance of a horse standing on an ice rink she slides into the kitchen, nearly knocking me over as she skids to a stop at her food bowl. "Food?" she asks me with a goofy smile.
And then mom is there, and everything is ok.
7:38am
I'm in my chair. It's a cozy thing, just the right size for me to curl up in, next to the big window. I love my chair. I can watch the birds, and I can see when dad gets home, as he pulls his car up almost right next to me. I love the feel of the sun on me in my chair, and I admit tanning is something of a guilty pleasure; I know, I know, I've heard about the risks of sun tanning, but it just warms up my fur and makes me so toasty, well, I can't resist. Especially now that Spring is here, and everything is warming up. I love this time of year! There are so many things out there to smell, sometimes I wish I could stay out there all day! Of course, then I'd get hungry...
Where was I? Mom and dad are rushing around the house, with Bear tagging along hopefully. I lift my head a bit, and try to get her attention; she ignores me, but I call out to her anyways; "Bear, they're going out. We have to stay here."
"Can I come?" Bear asked mom. She didn't seem to hear; humans seldom do. "Mom, Can I come?" Her tail was spinning again, with such force that her entire back end was swaying back and forth like a transport trailer on a winding road. She gave up as dad entered the room, and turned to him instead. "Dad, can I come? Are we going to the park? I love the park. Dad, can we go to the park?"
Dad glanced down at her fondly, and scratched her between her two black ears. He said something in a nice voice, and I could make out "go" and "work". I felt a brief stab of jealousy that he was petting her and not me; but she was just a kid and nearly twenty years younger than me, after all. And I guess if I had been begging for attention like her he would have petted me too; but I have more dignity than that.
Mom and dad are moving towards the door, and Bear is frantically zipping around them in a panic. "Don't forget me!" she was crying, "I wanna come to!" Pathetic. I jump to the floor, feeling the strain in my legs even for such a short drop -I guess I must be getting old. I calmly walk to the door to say goodbye as they leave, and watch Bears tail suddenly go as still as a stone. I guess she realized she's staying here.
I hear the car start up, and I return to my chair. Before I settle, I deal with an itch on my back leg, gnawing just a bit for relief. Then I settle in. A few minutes later, Bear trudges her way back upstairs. I hear her climb slowly on the big bed in the guest room; that's a nice spot, too. Lots of sun. Maybe I'll join her in a bit.
11:02am
Bear is snoring. And taking up most of the bed. I moved up to join her an hour or so ago; I guess I like her company, but don't ever tell her that. That darn Rottweiler is sprawled out and taking up at least three quarters of the bed. I'm curled up next to her, but I admit I appreciate her warmth. It’s sunny outside, and I’d be lying if I said I wouldn’t rather be outside. I sigh contently. Bear twitches a bit in her sleep.
Kozmo, one of the cats, jumps up on the bed; he freezes for a moment. I don't think he realized we were already up here. He looks at me as if he were asking permission -not that felines ever listen to what us canines have to say, even though it's pretty much a given that what we think makes a lot more sense. I glare at him for a second, and think about chasing him a way. "Whatever," I mumble, and rest my head on Bear's flank. Other than the twitching, she hasn't budged, by the way. And humans say Rottweiler's are supposed to be guard dogs. Kozmo curls up next to Bear, and closes his eyes.
I wish it was lunchtime. I'm hungry. Ah, well. Mom should be home soon.
1:31pm
Mom’s still not home. I’m sitting in the window downstairs, where I have a good view of the driveway. It’s sunny and warm, and I can see little specs of dust dancing in the beams of light that gather in pools on the hardwood floor next to me. There’s a bird on the fence next door, but I was never much interested in birds; I’m a beagle after all, not some silly retriever with no thought in his head except “fetch!”
At the sound of a car, I know she’s home; Bear crashes down the stairs and arrives at the front door right after me. She pushes past me, eager to greet mom first; the silly canine doesn’t really mean to be so pushy, she just doesn’t realise her own strength. Still, I growl at her in warning, and she apologizes.
Mom steps in, and we rush her; she’s carrying something, but I can tell right away it’s not food. I dismiss it, and run for my bowl. Bear runs in circles, her long legs slipping and sliding on the kitchen floor, and she almost manages to trip mom. “Food!” I bark impatiently. “Please!” I just think to add. Dad’s always telling me not to be rude.
We eat pretty quickly; I watch Bear out of the corner of my eye as I eat, making sure she doesn’t try to sneak some of my food. I’m not kidding – I’ve seen her do it. She’s watching me as she eats, too, though I have no idea why. I’d never do anything like that to her. Honest.
I finish up, and head right for the back door. Mom’s already there waiting, and she opens it and lets me out. As I’m moving through the door, Bear again smashes her way past, pushing past me like she can’t even see me. And dad calls me rude!
I gotta go pretty bad, but once outside I stop and sit on the edge of the deck. I close my eyes for a minute, and raise my muzzle to the sun. Winter is fine enough, I suppose, but boy am I glad spring has arrived. I can hear the birds, and another dog down the street calling hello. The air smells fresh and crisp, like dirt and water, flowers and fur, like an endless meadow right in the middle of the city. The warmth of the sun feels like its charging me, filling me with life. Even the wood of the deck beneath me is warm, and feels pleasant on my flanks.
I break out of my revere and head down into the grass, and do my business. Bear has already finished, and is standing off to one side, waiting for me. I could just ignore her, and she would go away eventually. But I’m feeling pretty good. I’m even feeling a pleasant burst of puppy like energy, so I break into a sudden run towards her. She braces herself, trying her Rottweiler best to look tough, and I hit the brakes just before her, laughing. I dart off in the other direction, and she chases; she’s laughing with me.
I lead her on a chase around the yard, and then we trade and I chase her for a bit. A little later we chase a squirrel. Mom has looked out at us a couple times, but seems fine with letting us stay outside and play. Spring was created just for us canines, I’ve decided. Could it ever be more perfect?
5:32pm
“Is dad here yet?” Bear asked in a murmur. She’s been napping again, and looks to have just awoken. She looks a little out of it –again- as she rests her gigantic head on the chair next to me. She sniffs at my face, and I grumble at her not to be rude.
“Does it look like he’s here?” I reply sarcastically.
Bear actually lifts her head and looks around. “I don’t see him,” she sounds puzzled.
I sigh, letting my breath pump out like a bellows in exasperation. No one realizes how tough it is to be me, I swear. “You silly twit, I was being sarcastic. Of course he’s not here.”
Bear let her head fall, resting again on the cushion next to me, as if supporting her silly head next to me would somehow actually hold up her entire body. She looks a little disappointed. “Oh,” she mumbled. I actually almost feel bad that I might have hurt her feelings.
Mom is moving around the house, and I hop past Bear to the floor. She follows me, as I go to see what mom’s up to. She’s in the kitchen, and I can smell something cooking. Human food smells so much better than ours! It hardly seems fair.
Bear hears something, and rushes past me to our spot in front of the window. Her bum is swaying back and forth like an uneven load in a transport tuck, and I jump up beside her. The car is in the driveway! And there! Its dad! He’s home! My tall is whipping around out of control, but I don’t care. I call out to him, and Dad looks up at the window and smiles. He waves, and starts down the driveway. As if shot from a gun, the two of us race towards the front door, nearly ending up in a collision and pile-up there. The door opens, and he steps in. “Hey guys,” he says. “Yeah, relax, I’m home,” I grab a cat toy, and offer it with a smile. “Look what I brought you dad!” He takes it, and I could just die from happiness.
Dad’s home!
