I hopped off the bed and stretched. Yes, the food was already cooking, I could smell the wonderful scent of deliciousness floating in the air. My whiskers tickled and I sneezed. No time for that though, I had to get to the kitchen.
Of course, the old man was sitting in his morning spot, fluttering his papers around on the table as he carefully examined them. Hopefully he was reading about some cool recipes for lunch or something. But no time for that, I had to find out what was cooking.
“What’s for breakfast?” I asked the old man. He just smiled at me and acted like it was a secret or something.
“Well, when will it be ready?” I demanded.
But the old man uttered not a peep. Obviously, he did not understand the urgency of the situation. My belly was grumbling and I’m pretty sure we’re late for something on the schedule. The old man shuffled his papers some more, but there was no time for that. I needed to go potty.
Outside into the cold I bounded, trying to be as quick as possible about what I needed to do. It was cold and still a little wet, and the sun was not shiny today. No time to worry about that right now though, I had to go. And when you gotta go, you just gotta go.
Back inside where the warmth brought the feeling back into the tip of my tail and the ends of my paws, the smell of breakfast reminded me of how hungry I was. My belly gurgled and grumbled. I was running out of time. Pretty soon, I might fade away. The hunger was overwhelming me. I had to press the old man to dish out the food before it was too late.
By the time I got back into the kitchen, the old man had a bowl and was happily snacking up his breakfast all by himself. I was upset, but there was no time to be upset. I had to get some food.
“Hey!” I barked. “Where’s my food?”
The old man eyed me as he slurped up his meal. He blinked a few times before looking over to my bowl which was empty. Then he looked back at me and made a surprised face like it the mist had lifted from his eyes. He shrugged his shoulders with an “oops,” but no time to waste. I was looking for something to put in my belly to stop it from eating me up.
The spoon clattered in the bowl as the old man scooted the chair out from under him. Slowly, he walked towards the counter, every step taken as if with extreme caution that one might step on a cat’s tail or something. No time to be concerned about such things, I was hungry!
“Please, hurry!” I cried.
The old man made a peculiar face at me as he patted the counter, searching for something to feed me. It was like he was purposely making me wait like it was a joke or something. But that’s when I saw it. And all my belly grumbles were put to rest.
High above, the source of the smell descended into my bowl. It was a cake, a special cake made just for me. It was my favorite, a once a year sort of thing that rarely pops up for a pup, possibly making it that much more special. And I knew when I saw it, I was going to have leftovers. And there was plenty of time for that.
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.