Shuffles was playing sick today. He was really good at this, especially when he knows what’s coming up. So right now, he’s just laying there, sort of whimpering every now and then just to make sure that everyone knows he’s not feeling well right now.
The thing is…he’s just fine, and I know that for a fact. We woke up early this morning and he had all the plans for the day. We were to eat some breakfast, get ready with the leashes, and head to the park. But when Gracie had laid out her plans to go off and do her errands, Skipper suddenly became ill with all the things that nothing but pure attention could cure.
Gracie totally puppies him so much. If she’d stop, he’d have no other choice but to dog-up and stop whining when things happen that he doesn’t like. He can’t always have it his way. At least this ought not to be, but he seems to find a way to get something at least.
This goes for baths too. But Gracie doesn’t let that one slide. Baths are mandatory, and there’s no escape unless you can hide long enough (we have yet to reach the statute of limitations).
But anyways, Skipper is at the moment belly-up with his paws reaching out and whimpering about how everything was getting so dark now. Even the smells were dark. At least that’s what he claimed was happening.
“Get up already,” I woofed. “She’s not buying your little game.”
“Wh-what?” Skipper looked at me confounded. “Is that you, Dante, my bestest buddy?”
“Come on, you can see just fine,” I whapped him with my tail.
“Oh buddy oh my pal, make sure and take care of the squeaky squirrel and my ball when I’m gone…”
“You’re not going anywhere,” I ruffed. “Now get up and let’s do a race or something while Gracie goes to do the things.”
“I…I don’t know if I can even stand up,” Skipper whispered.
He was still playing his little game. It hadn’t worked on me, but it was keeping Gracie around to comfort and nourish his every need. Such a clever little rascal, very clever. But I’m wise to such things. I’ve been around, and I’ve done them myself. That’s how I know between the real thing and games.
So I did what I knew would shock Skipper back into his regular old self. I found his favorite squeaker that is kept behind the bed post. He doesn’t know that I know that he keeps it there. Now he does. And I brought it to him and laid right next to him.
“SQUEEEEEEEEEK!” when the old raggedy turtle.
Those little eyes went wide as Skipper glared at me from his helpless place on the floor. Suddenly he could see, now we’ll know if he’s all better.
“Give me back my tu-tal,” Skipper growled.
With a ruff and some barks, Skipper was back on his feet and hot on my tail. We raced around the room, bounding over the sofa arms and into the bedroom where we made a mess of all the pillows before heading back to the kitchen. I thought Gracie should see that Skipper’s condition had gotten all better now.
And yes. Oh yes. Gracie was happy to see that Skipper was doing better. In fact, she was so happy that she gave us both a treat right before she left to run her errands. But at least Skipper was back to normal. Well, he’s pretty upset about the turtle, but it did put a stop to all that whining. Now it’s just the grumbling I have to deal with.
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.