In the past, I have been very concerned about the humans. There are many times they barely seem able to function in the world. If they drop crumbs on the floor, they never pick them up and eat them despite the fact that it is perfectly good food. They insist on not only getting close to the vacuum cleaner, but touching it. Never once have I seem them appropriately mark their possessions.
While these are very bad, nothing can match up to what happened today.
The sun had started to go down and I had moved from the love-seat my afternoon spot, to my evening spot on the couch. I was settled in for a nice evening when, all of a sudden, the doorbell rang.
I ran to the door, alerting the humans of the danger that most definitely waited on the other side. I screamed and yelled as loud as I could. In the past, they have never appreciated this, but I feel that a good dog does his job no matter the level of appreciation that is given to him. Besides, they might appreciate it someday.
Clearly not today, though.
“Go lay down,” the man told me. He then proceeded to open the door and what stood there was beyond shocking.
There stood a princess and with her a gorilla, a baseball player and some sort of person that seemed to have had their face badly injured and bloodied. Instead of scaring away this group of ne’er-do-wells, the man did the unspeakable: he gave them food.
Now, I have to work hard for the food I get around here. It is no easy task. I spend hours every day dreaming up new ways to ask for their food. It never seems to work, though, sending me back to square one. Meanwhile, these people show up at the door and are immediately greeted with treats. Then they just leave. It’s enough to make me feel unappreciated.
The doorbell rang again. Always one to do my job, I said to the man, “There seems to be someone else at the door.”
“Stop barking,” he said as he pulled the door back.
There stood another group. Once again, he handed each one of them a treat and shut the door behind them.
I will admit I might have lost my cool at this point. After three long years, though, of begging for food, this was the last straw. All I have wanted this entire time was a single itty bitty morsel of food. Just a bit. They always have plenty, yet when it comes to me it’s always dry kibble.
The doorbell rang. I was determined. If I couldn’t have food, no one could.
“Hey! Your best friends are at the door again! Why don’t you just open it and give them some more food?” I called to the man. Once again, he tried to silence me. Not this time, though. This time, I would be heard.
The door opened and there stood a bumblebee, a doctor, and a soldier. Their hands were stretched out, just waiting for the treat that should rightfully be mine.
“Oh, really?!” I said. “You people are going to come and take my food?! Surely a doctor and a soldier can afford to buy their own food! Do you even know anything about these people?! I do because I have to spend EVERY DAY WITH THEM! I don’t get to just drop by and grab a treat anytime I want! I spend every waking second putting up with them and never get ANYTHING! Besides, you idiots! Some of the stuff he is giving you is chocolate! That will kill you! HA! Serves you right, you no good, malicious, immoral, insolent pieces of…”
At this point, I was whisked away and locked in the backyard where I was left the rest of the evening. And no, I did not get a treat.
Some people are just so unappreciative.
- Entry From A Dog’s Diary, September 16th (badlandsbadley.wordpress.com)