Entry From A Dog’s Diary, February 26th

Dear Diary,

Often times, I am a bit harsh on the humans. I am fully aware of this. I mean, they do an excellent job of making sure my food bowl is full and providing me with nylon bones, so I cannot say too much bad about them.

There are times, though, when all of the harsh words I have do not begin to describe how infuriating they are. It’s like living with two incapable nitwits whose brain functions operate lower than that of a cat. Just in case you do not know, that is pretty low.

The alarm went off this morning at six like it always does. As it blared, I did not move. I knew that it would be turned off, then loudly blare again at least 8 more times before it was time to finally get out of bed.

After the man had finally gotten bored of that fun little snooze button, we got up. I was excited. I had been lying there for seven hours and seven hours is a very long time. As you might know, lying somewhere for this amount of time can often leave one feeling a great deal of…uh… stress.

There’s no delicate way of saying this. I needed to use the restroom. A lot. I had eaten an entire bowl of whatever those dried disgusting pellets are last night and it was weighing pretty heavily on my insides.

“I’ll take you out in a second,” the man said. Then he has the audacity to walk into the bathroom. HE gets to use the bathroom while I am left out in the hall waiting.

Fortunately, I am very patient. I sat there and waited. I thought about the things I usually think about. What is that smell on the lamppost outside? If humans where those clothes all the time, how do they sniff each other? What exactly does chocolate taste like and shouldn’t the female be dead at this point? I mean, I saw her eat a big bite of chocolate yesterday but she seems to be okay. Maybe it isn’t that bad after all…

After all of this, he was still in the bathroom. I was beginning to grow desperate. I tried whimpering, but there was no way he could hear me over the devilish screech of that water monster he stands next to every morning. Seriously, does the fact that water is falling INDOORS not bug them?

“Hey!” I said. “Hurry up! I NEED to go outside pronto!”

There was no response.

“Seriously, I am quite uncomfortable right now!”

Nothing.

“HEY! YOU GOT TO GO TO THE BATHROOM AND NOW I AM OUT HERE JUST WAITING WHILE YOU TAKE YOUR MERRY LITTLE TIME DOING WHATEVER IT IS YOU DO IN THERE! You COULD just let me use the bathroom inside like you do, but NO!  The dog has to do her business outside! HURRY UP, YOU WORTHLESS, GOOD-FOR-NOTHING, IDIOT OF A HUMAN BEING!”

The man did not hurry. And that is why I pooped in the living room.

Hey, they can’t be too mad at me. If they would put the doorknob lower, I could let myself out.

Until tomorrow,

Charlie

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13 thoughts on “Entry From A Dog’s Diary, February 26th

  1. What a wonderful story to wake up and read. After living in a 1 bedroom/ 1 bath apartment with my husband, I can totally identify- minus the pooping in the living room part.

    Like this

  2. So funny! We have a doggy door, which solves most these issues… Except one of our dogs is utterly ridiculous and doesn’t like to get his feet wet. So if it is, or has been, raining, he still poops in the house. Always on the carpet though. Maybe it is more grass-like?

    Like this

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