Sunday is a day of rest for some, sport for others and worship for the existentially unsure. For me it was a combination of all of the above. I woke up this morning frozen to the floor. The foot falls of the room service dude cracked the morning calm, and the ice that coated the world. The first large metal bowl, practically over flowing with food was placed as far from me as was possible. I tried to get up but with a sickening tearing sound, the movement ripped the hair from my slightly round belly and left it embedded in the ice, fluttering gently in the icy breeze. I didn’t really notice any of that at the time. I squealed like a little bitch. In my defense I am only 47 days old.
A couple of my slower brethren had reason to paws for thought as I scampered over their heads, trampled their ears into the ground and stood on an occasional out stretched tongue. Fuck ’em, food before family. Unfortunately 5 of my siblings were right next to the bowl when it clunked on the ground and although I was undoubtedly the fastest across the room, I was too slow to eat. Do not despair dear reader. Life was not over yet.
A second bowl hit the floor. 2 guesses as to where? Yup, right on top of the fine black hairs trapped in the ice. Bastard room service dude. Not only that, but now there were 5 slightly disheveled and mildly angry puppies between me and the bowl….again! I lifted up my tail, pulled my tongue back into my mouth and shook off the rapidly freezing drool. I charged across the room. These guys weren’t going to be beaten to the bowl twice. They were ready. They went low, but this time, I couldn’t got high. I re tasked my paws, claws and teeth. If I could create enough confusion I might be able to get through these dummies. Fur flew, ears got bitten and tongues flapped about like gossiping grandmothers. A quick bite to a tail and a mouthful of fur spat at a different face and all of a sudden we had a brawl. I was the Muhammad Ali of dogdom for a few seconds. I was fast on the attack and faster still on the bounce away.
I could have won a Golden Globe for my faked submission and the elegance of the roll onto my back. Suddenly, and in the best tradition of the bar room brawl, the 5 of them were fighting among themselves and utterly ignoring little ole me. Well, I tucked in like a Labrador. I inhaled all the food in seconds.
A quick lick of the lips, a waggle of the tail towards the still squabbling mess of puppies and I ambled over the corner and flopped down. One side supported by a wall. More importantly, my back was covered by another wall. The hungry puppies arrayed before me slowly stopped fighting. I guess they weren’t too bright because they all headed for the empty bowl and gave desultory licks to the stainless steel. Next thing I knew I was facing rapid onset food coma. Sport and rest, taken of. All that remained was the existential crisis. That came from the sleep. I dreamed of a chase. I chased an animal I have never seen before. It had four legs, a long tail and an attitude plainly evident on a hideously malformed face. All I wanted to do was chew its feet off. The thing is, I have never seen such a beastie before or since. Perhaps it was some kind of species genetic memory bubbling to the surface. Maybe I was possessed. Maybe the food was bad and I was channeling Ebeneezer in tasting a morsel of cheese or a gravey gravy. Either way. It was most unsettling. Then breakfast 2 arrived and I felt great.
The humans got in touch today. Apparently all goes well with the preparations. They said that they have bought me a carriage and something soft to sit on. I hope that they are okay without me. Apparently they didn’t go to the gym today. It was too far to walk and too cold! Look at my belly you bastards!!!
Chat more tomorrow. I can see a bro sleeping near the door and I have a full bladder…..