It’s a Dog-Eat-Dog World

I was in the backyard, digging up my cache of stolen goodies when I smelled her. Her scent was one that I never encountered before: a sweet yet woodsy smell.  I followed the trail of the odor, keeping my head up high to catch a stronger wiff of her. I trotted towards the front of the house and there she was, standing at Sam’s doorstep while swaying back and forth. I was overjoyed with excitement. So much so that my whole body wiggled as I ran towards her. Oh goody! I thought. A guest! A guest! But right when I was about to nudge my head on the left side of her leg, she jumped back and hit me with her purse. Instantly, I growled. Instantly, Sam opened the door to smack me on the head. My tail found itself between my hind legs as I watched him invite her inside, closing the door on my nose.

Immediately I ran to the backyard. I squeezed in through the doggy door and immediately caught a wiff of my attacker’s scent and meandered through the house in search of her. I entered the living room and found the wretched beast on my spot at the couch. Oh, how that boiled my blood. Who dares to strike me and claim what is mine? I watched her from across the living room until Sam joined her on the couch with a bottle of wine. Why must Sam be fooled by her pretty exterior? Seeing him googly eyed over this woman disgusted me. I wanted to get rid of her.

The next day she visited again. Again she would make Sam push me aside. She wore a knee-lengthed dress and it was cute, as humans would say, but I ran to her and tore the lower part of her flower patterned dress. Ha! That’ll teach her, I thought. But Sam didn’t understand that I was trying to protect him. He pushed me out the front door into the scorching Floridian sun where I would pace back and forth plotting my next revenge.

Just then I heard a rustle in the rose bushes. My ears perked up and detected the source of the sound. It was a grey rat—the perfect gift for our little guest. I entered the house again through the back door with the rat limp in my mouth. I happily trotted into the living room and placed the rat at the foot of the couch. Then I hid. Five minutes later, came the beast into the living room and sat on the couch in my spot, precisely where I placed my surprise. As I expected, the most shrilling scream engulfed the quiet of the house. Right when I was about to bark my declaration of victory, I felt a violent tug at my collar. It was Sam and he was dragging me outside—outside to the shed. He pushed me in and waved his finger at me, “Bad dog!” and shut the door leaving me in the darkness. Alone.  I guess I didn’t win this battle after all.


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