This was a very nice meeting we were having. Indeed it was, and we seldom get to do this, but today was a good day to do it. So we were all gathered up on the sofa, just woofing about the things we’d done, we wanted to do and what smells we’d found behind the cabinet. Just random stuff, and a lot of it.
I laid in my very sprawled and expanded position, attempting to take up as much space as possible. This effort was done to hinder Skipper from hogging it all to himself. Gracie was sitting in our midst, taking turns rubbing and inspecting each of us. A couple of times she asked us for some “tickets, please,” but that phrase really didn’t make much sense. Maybe she meant something else, but other parts of our conversation were like this too.
There were more comments made by Gracie, most of which sounded very calm and soothing, but very confusing. It seemed like she wanted to know more about the spaghetti incident, to which both Skipper and I denied any knowledge. That whole ordeal was supposed to have remained top secret, so we couldn’t figure out how she found out about it. Some birdy must have told.
We moved on from there, mostly describing to her some of the things we’d done yesterday and what toys seemed to have the best playability. This was a very important discussion, because we pups do take our playtime seriously. It’s more than just a hobby.
“Well, I really like the ones with the squeakers in them,” Skipper commented.
“But you’ll just make the ruckus all night long,” I argued. “You need to stick with the extra fluff so you don’t make as much noise.”
“Well then I’ll just make a mess like you do then,” Skipper retorted.
“No, you don’t make the mess, that’s my job!” I snipped back.
“Fine, then I get the squeakers…that’s my job,” Skipper ruffed and went back to enjoying his chin tickling.
Gracie started in with some more of her things, some of which happened to be about the park and tomorrow and the plans regarding the thing about something in the place outside the water bowls where the wild things play. Okay, so we don’t really know what she meant, but it’s nice to have a chat about such things.
Though we couldn’t understand what Gracie was telling us, she’d begun to rub my left ear and I couldn’t listen anyway and the rest of the conversation tapered off. I leaned in to force her to get that annoying itchy spot.
“Naw,” Skipper ruffed and got in the way, “he’s had enough…tug my ears now.”
And she stopped paying attention to me and started tickling Skipper. I was jealous. Immediately I began attempts to regain control of her attention, which involved begging and swatting Skipper’s big ears so he’d scoot out of reach.
There was eventually a truce and we each got half our friend’s attention. Everyone was happy and Gracie proceeded to tell us more things about some things we didn’t really know about.
It’s nice to sit with friends, especially best ones. We can’t really speak to her, even though we are best friends, but such occasions are a nice way to spend an afternoon. And that’s just what we did. We’ll probably do it again too, just so long as nobody brings up the spaghetti thing again.
Jason Duron is a short story writer and author of several fiction stories. Curious and lovable as dogs can be, the Adventures of Rocky, Nixi, and Dante give you a chance to see daily life from a “dog’s eye view” and share in their thoughts. Please enjoy, and we hope that you’ll feel free to comment and give us insight into your dog’s very own adventures.