1. Word count: 498
Title: My Life As A Dog
Art: Contributed Photo-B Story
Slug: Charlie and Pearl lounge in their space on the bed at Dogwood.
Six years ago, Better Half wanted a dog.
I argued against it, but lost.
Suddenly, I was leaving Animal Control with eight pounds of new responsibility.
We named her Lucy.
Thus began the existence of a place called Dogwood and my life as a dog: a member of a pack.
Lucy was my first experience with something that wet the carpet and left "uh-oh's" on the floor.
In reality, experience translated into being the sucker stuck with the job of cleaning them up.
I learned that my home, my carpets, and my life would never be the same.
My ten week old pup was like a toddler. Everything below waist level was on the hit list.
You name it, Lucy destroyed it.
I also realized that everything in the house was poisonous, hazardous, or deadly to a pup.
I spent the first week trying to pet proof.
Sometimes I got it right—sometimes Lucy was too smart for me.
Lucy taught ME to be a good dog.
I learned to sleep in the floor with her when she was sick, and to shuffle outside at two in the morning
because she needed to "go".
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2. When the day was over, I could always count on a narrow strip of the bed to rest my body… while she
sprawled over the rest.
I was almost fully trained by the time Charlie arrived.
There was a restructuring of the pack. Lucy moved UP the chain and I moved DOWN next to Charlie.
That’s why Charlie’s my baby and nobody else’s.
Then came Pearl the cat. The pack trembled a bit, but settled thanks to a case of identity crisis.
Pearl was convinced she was a dog. She ate their food when they weren’t looking, drank their water,
and could whip the tar out of both of them. The key was that Pearl, unlike a true mutt, was self
sufficient.
Most importantly, she took up hardly any space on the bed.
Enter Hines the rat terror (I mean terrier). The pack trembled, collapsed, and reformed.
Suddenly, a little dog with a BIG voice was on my couch like a flag planting conquistador, proudly
proclaiming this land for HINES!
Once again, Charlie and I were reconditioned to the new world order.
I learned to sit quietly for nose lickings, and adapt to an even smaller space on the bed.
Years later, I realize that I’ve learned a lot, and that quiet servitude has been good for me.
I am loved at Dogwood like nowhere else on Earth. If ever I need companionship, or a fuzzy shoulder
to lean on, the four most loyal friends I’ve ever had will provide it.
They are what make my life so good.
They’re not just my pack…they're my family.
So I have to confess, except for the compulsion to carry slippers in my mouth, drink water from a bowl
marked “Princess”, and "go" in the backyard, my life as a dog truly hasn’t been all that bad.
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