Betty sniffed a spot, circled, circled, hunched down, and circled some more. After a comedy of circling, she started to poo. The lady stood, leash in one hand, mini poop-bag turned inside-out like a waterproof mitten on the other hand. Betty generally coiled her poo, always starting to walk away as the last bit fell, so that following the coil were just a couple of hard to find stringers.
The lady cupped the bulk of it in her bag-mitted hand, inverting the handles and tying them together. She was very thankful that Betty was no larger because getting everything into one palmful would be much more difficult. Betty had to be reminded to stay and wait. She seemed agitated about something.
The lady looked up to find a very burly man in a leather jacket and jeans pulling a wheeled trashcan out to the curb. "Mornin' ma'am. Just doin' a little cleanin' up at the old place here. That's a pretty sweet little dog you got there. I had me one just like him when I was a kid".
Sunday, January 22, 2012
Tuesday, January 17, 2012
Iron Coffins
The lady chose a new route this morning, muttering something about curtains pushed back and the same lawn twice a day. They walked past the corner store, crossed the street and up a block with entirely new smells.
The corner had a lot of dogness about it, and so many plants that there was constantly something in bloom. Betty particularly liked the smells of this area. But they walked on and the lawns were pretty well the same as the old route. They crossed a street and walked down another new block with fewer houses on it. There were a lot more smells here, and this took more investigating.
In one edge of grass, near a driveway, was a very tasty smelling pile of what must have been pizza, chewed and spewed. An empty beer can and a box were littered nearby in the parking lot that boasted maybe eight motorcycles. A little square building with no windows sat there quiet as if holding its head in the noisy dawn. On the front of the building, in black iron lettering, the words "Iron Coffins" spelled very clearly who owned the place.
The corner had a lot of dogness about it, and so many plants that there was constantly something in bloom. Betty particularly liked the smells of this area. But they walked on and the lawns were pretty well the same as the old route. They crossed a street and walked down another new block with fewer houses on it. There were a lot more smells here, and this took more investigating.
In one edge of grass, near a driveway, was a very tasty smelling pile of what must have been pizza, chewed and spewed. An empty beer can and a box were littered nearby in the parking lot that boasted maybe eight motorcycles. A little square building with no windows sat there quiet as if holding its head in the noisy dawn. On the front of the building, in black iron lettering, the words "Iron Coffins" spelled very clearly who owned the place.
Friday, January 13, 2012
The Poo Eater
Betty did not understand what the problem was. But whenever she went for a walk with the lady or the man, and she happened upon something delicious-smelling, she would naturally taste it. This produced the most violent reaction in the otherwise calm and gentle lady and man. They scraped out her mouth, forcing her jaw open and pulling back everything that could pull back to allow them a look into her tiny mouth. It was a very unpleasant experience to have them catch her taking a taste.
And why? Well, Betty didn't really know. But the reason was Poo. Betty is a poo eater. A fecal feaster. A dukie diner. A scat scarfer. A caca cruncher. A turd burgler. A fart gobbling, deuce chomping pee sniffer.
And why? Well, Betty didn't really know. But the reason was Poo. Betty is a poo eater. A fecal feaster. A dukie diner. A scat scarfer. A caca cruncher. A turd burgler. A fart gobbling, deuce chomping pee sniffer.
Dreams
To begin with, it is snowing lightly. But there are still leaves, crispy and piled everywhere, their clean decay hiding smells beneath. There are no leashes or harnesses or stitches or roads. Only chasing and jumping tiny fences and children hugging gentle hugs (not the crushing kind that make Betty afraid she can't breathe).
Squirrels foolishly nibble acorns, their tiny foolish backs turned to Betty until she is just about to chomp them and they bolt, Betty happily chasing after, nipping at their fluffy tails.
And when she comes upon something delicious smelling and hiding under the leaves, nobody stops her from taking a taste. Not even if it's poo. Which is often the most delicious smelling item of all.
Squirrels foolishly nibble acorns, their tiny foolish backs turned to Betty until she is just about to chomp them and they bolt, Betty happily chasing after, nipping at their fluffy tails.
And when she comes upon something delicious smelling and hiding under the leaves, nobody stops her from taking a taste. Not even if it's poo. Which is often the most delicious smelling item of all.
The Caged Pee
The day went on with a lot of sleeping and tender walking. When the man left Betty in the cage for a while in the afternoon, she peed and was very upset. Not only because he left her when she was obviously not at her best, but because she peed in the cage. And even though this had happened more than once, it was honestly upsetting every time.
I mean, where does one stand? She scratched at the blankets and puffy doggy bed to push them back away from the pee, but it only seemed to mix it up more. And the anxiety of that made her pee just a little extra. Now that the bed and everything had pee on it, she just couldn't figure out what to do.
And of course the man was upset, as he is every time. Stripping the blankets out and taking them to the basement. Spraying the floor and the cage. Muttering.
But by evening, the kids and the man and the lady were playing a game at the table near the couches. And Betty just laid on top of the lady's coat (which is the warmest spot ever) and watched them happily.
I mean, where does one stand? She scratched at the blankets and puffy doggy bed to push them back away from the pee, but it only seemed to mix it up more. And the anxiety of that made her pee just a little extra. Now that the bed and everything had pee on it, she just couldn't figure out what to do.
And of course the man was upset, as he is every time. Stripping the blankets out and taking them to the basement. Spraying the floor and the cage. Muttering.
But by evening, the kids and the man and the lady were playing a game at the table near the couches. And Betty just laid on top of the lady's coat (which is the warmest spot ever) and watched them happily.
Thursday, January 12, 2012
The Usual
They walked back into the house. The lady left to catch the bus for work. The man held Betty as they waited at the bus stop with the kids. The kids made their usual cooing noises, repeating Betty's name so many times she could no longer even hear it.
The man walked Betty back one block, slowly, begging her to please poo so he wouldn't be worried all morning about her having an mishap in the house. She obliged by defecating in the neighbor's manicured lawn, obviously having needed to rid herself because there seemed to be no pushing involved, just a notion and gravity.
The man bagged it happily, patted her cinnamon head and whistled as they walked slowly back to the house.
The man walked Betty back one block, slowly, begging her to please poo so he wouldn't be worried all morning about her having an mishap in the house. She obliged by defecating in the neighbor's manicured lawn, obviously having needed to rid herself because there seemed to be no pushing involved, just a notion and gravity.
The man bagged it happily, patted her cinnamon head and whistled as they walked slowly back to the house.
The Uneasy Morning
Betty woke slightly akilter. The lady helped her down from the bed, carried her down the stairs, set her gently down in the kitchen in front of the food bowl. Big and small chunks poured into the bowl, smelling of corn and duck and something else Betty didn't have a picture for. She nibbled because her belly was angry and very very noisy. But she only ate a bit before she wanted to go outside. She didn't trust herself and was frankly amazed that she made it through the night without peeing on the bed.
The lady hooked her harness to the leash and carried her down the front steps. Betty's back legs were the most shaky, like they were still asleep and couldn't trust themselves. They walked slowly, only a block, around and back.
The sky seemed to seep out from Betty's thoughts. The wind was odd and specific, pushing just one leaf in the middle of the street, so that the lady and Betty both watched it and their skin crawled just a little. Everything eerie, everything just slightly off. The streetlights like staged spotlights on a filmset, the music quiet. Everything building suspense.
The lady hooked her harness to the leash and carried her down the front steps. Betty's back legs were the most shaky, like they were still asleep and couldn't trust themselves. They walked slowly, only a block, around and back.
The sky seemed to seep out from Betty's thoughts. The wind was odd and specific, pushing just one leaf in the middle of the street, so that the lady and Betty both watched it and their skin crawled just a little. Everything eerie, everything just slightly off. The streetlights like staged spotlights on a filmset, the music quiet. Everything building suspense.
Wednesday, January 4, 2012
Sleep
It was late when Betty finally had hunger enough to eat and strength enough to walk up and down the 1/2 block, from their house to the corner. She didn't feel exhausted the way you do when you've been running all day or chased a squirrel and ended up in a different town, but her body was beyond working and she stood at the foot of the bed, gently whimpering.
The man took the cone off and picked her up. She curled thankfully just behind the bent knees of the lady. The evening was cold but seemed distant somehow. For a while, she forgot about what happened that day, about sore spots and untrustworthy legs. She dreamed of birds and bits of meat, unguarded on the kitchen floor.
In one dream, Betty imagined that she was running through water, but her legs seemed to change. No longer strong and stiff and muscular, they were swaying with the water, flattening out and fanning out like paper-thin fins. The water seemed to be dissappearing and, just before it was all gone and her body flopped down, unable to support itself, she woke up to the sound of an alarm beeping.
The man took the cone off and picked her up. She curled thankfully just behind the bent knees of the lady. The evening was cold but seemed distant somehow. For a while, she forgot about what happened that day, about sore spots and untrustworthy legs. She dreamed of birds and bits of meat, unguarded on the kitchen floor.
In one dream, Betty imagined that she was running through water, but her legs seemed to change. No longer strong and stiff and muscular, they were swaying with the water, flattening out and fanning out like paper-thin fins. The water seemed to be dissappearing and, just before it was all gone and her body flopped down, unable to support itself, she woke up to the sound of an alarm beeping.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)