Woof. Woof? Woof woof Arf? Arf woof bark! Grr woof bark Arf bark! Arf bark woof woof?! Woof Arf. Harrrr grrrrr Arf Arf! Krarrrrr grr harrr WOOF WOOF. Harrumph. Grr.

“Hey so, how about this nice weather?”

“Yeah, the sun feels so nice. I kinda want to go play fetch.”

“I’m too tired. I’ve done a lot today.”

“Yeah? Like sleep?”

“Oh shut up—“

Outside

Run, run, run

Rabbit?

Smell, smell, smell?

Down here?

Nope,

Other side?

Nope.

Oh, there!

Get back here!

Gotcha

Tastes like chicken

Aw, no, come back-

Darn

Sniff sniff

Bird

Sniff sniff

Bird there

Wack, bite

Kill the bird

Oh noes

Mama’s mad holding that bird

It could’ve killed you, Mama

I saved you Mama

Sniff sniff

Wilbur

Grrr

Kill, kill

Bark bark

This stupid fence

When I’m out I’ll kill you for walking on my sidewalk

Pace, pace

Oh, Winston

Get out of here idiot

You’re fat and low

You’re a log

I’m the boss, not you

You howl like a dying seal

I’m Mama’s favorite

Not you

“Hi Trixie, hi, hi. Can I sniff your butt?”

“You sniff my butt all the time Rufus.”

“Pleaseee?”

“Fine, but let me sniff yours first.”

“Yay yay yay yay.”

“Have you been hanging out with another dog??”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Trixie, I only hang out with you.”

“Then why do I smell a female Golden Retriever on you?!”

“I’m sorryyyy, my master took me to a play date with her, it wasn’t my fault. Forgive me Trixie.”

“I can’t decide, but my master’s calling, we will continue this discussion later.”

“Bye. Bye. Bye.”

Tree.

Tree tree tree tree.

Peeing on tree.

Peeing on tr—Squirrel?

…

No, guess not.

Walking.

Walking walking walking.

Who are you?

Who are you?

Butt.

Butt butt butt butt.

Charlie!

Roofus!

How long has it been?

I don’t know, I have no concept of time!

Wait, I smell… where did you find a burrito you lucky dog?

My Tall One. He left it on the small table in front of the moving light box.

You scalawag!

I am what I am. Hey, how’s Smuggles?

In trouble.

Picking on Mr Drummond again?

Yep. He can’t help himself, I guess. Can’t blame him; The Box-Poopers are disgusting, the lot of them. Also, though, he’s still a little upset. You know, he’s at the age…

The sleepy car ride?

Yeah. I tried to warn him that, you know, he’d come back a little, uh, ‘less’ than he was. But you know how young pups can be: Think they’ll have their drag-berries forever.

Yessir. I remember those days. Well, it was good to see you, but as you might have guessed by the way my Tall One is yanking on my No-Rope, I must be off.

Until we nose nethers again!

Indeed.

…

Bird.

Bird bird bird.

Hydrant.

Peeing on hydrant.

Max: Go away Pinta: I can’t Max: Cause you’re like an international super spy posing as a dog? Pinta: 😐...... no Max: Then go Pinta: I can’t Max: Cause you’re an alien dog sent to earth to clone some dogs and take over the world? Pinta: 🙄 no Max: Then GO. Pinta: I can’t Max: Why not? Pinta: Cause I live here Max: Well, I live here too! Pinta: Then we’ll both stay! Max: FINE! (Max storms out of bedroom they are arguing in) Pinta’s mind: hahaha sucka 😏

Bernard: hello old friend.

Princess Sparkles: Oh hello, nice to see you. How’s life been treating you?

Bernard: same old, same old. And you?

Princess Sparkles: nothing much. Nothing exciting happens to us dogs when we’re this age.

Bernard: ain’t that the truth! Sometimes I wish I was more like them humans, living out my life like there ain’t no tomorrow. Alas, Karla needs me, and what could I do without her? Humans can’t understand me, and I got no money. sigh

Princess Sparkles: snorts I can’t believe they’re still so clueless. Thinking we’re all idiots or something. What happened to being the smartest race? We’ve been living with them for ages, yet they have trouble understanding even the simplest bark or wag of the tail . But us? We’ve known their language since the beginning of “man’s best friend” and would be speaking it with the best of them if not for our incapable bodies. Sometimes it’s just so frustrating. Sorry, Bernard, I didn’t mean to rant like that, I guess I’m just tired. Haven’t been able to get enough sleep since the new pups.

Bernard: naw, it’s fine, it’s good to get your emotions out every once in a while. How are the pups, by the way? Not giving you too much trouble, I hope?

Princess Sparkles: (wryly) crazy. And rowdy. And destructive. Ace has already chewed through three good shots, the little stinker. And Cheeto is always zipping around the house, he shattered Mia’s good vase today.

Bernard: (interrupting) uh-oh! The nice one from aunt Janet? Mia loves that one! I think it’s kinda ugly, though.

Princess Sparkles: glares at Bernard yes, that one. He got a big timeout, and we both gave him a talk, but I’m not sure hope much good that’ll do. Charlotte’s the best of the bunch. Never getting into trouble, that one. But I’m kinda worried about her, truth be told. She gets scared easily, and the kids frighten her. Often I’ll find her curled up behind the sofa, hiding from all the noise and chaos. But for the most part, the pups are happy, the kids are happy, and usually, so are the parents.

Bernard: poor little Charlie. Want me to talk to her on Saturday when Me and Kayla come over for dinner?

Princess Sparkles: (gives a little start) Oh! I’d forgotten about that. Yes, if it wouldn’t be too much of a hassle. You and Charlie are just so close. She’s lucky to have a mutt like you around.

Bernard: no problem. Oh, before I forget, I have a new wires for Charlie: ultracrepidarian. It means someone who who gives opinions on topics they know nothing about.

Princess Sparkles: oh, that’s a hard one! She’ll like that! Oh, Henry’s calling for me, bye!

Teeny, the small, pale chihuahua (with ears that no one knew how they fit on his head) energetically bounced up onto a bench in the dog park. He was sitting beside a much larger canine, presumably a German shepherd - Irish wolfhound mix.

“Heya Mort. Whassup?” The smaller of the two yapped, folding into a lying position.

The ragged looking canine spoke, his voice a deep rumble. “Not much.”

“Heh- you’re supposed to say ‘The Sky.’ Get it, bec- HOLY MOLY, Mort, what happened to your eye?” The chihuahua squeaked, bouncing upward in alarm.

Mort replied solemnly. “I was a bad dog, and I deserved it.” This was all he said.

Teeny kept on. “And your ear?!”

Mort spoke again, very softly. “I was a bad dog, and I deserved it.”

Once again, the little dog yelled. “And your shoulder and back!”

Again, the same reply. “I was a bad dog, and I deserved it.”

A moment of silence, and Mort stood, and began walking home.

Teeny called out. “Wait, deserved what?!” He hopped, bouncing.

“To be taught a lesson.”

————- That Night ——————- - — - —- -

Lying on the floor in a pool of blood, lights dimming, consciousness leaving him, Mort whispered very slowly.

“I was a bad dog… and I deserved it.”

. . .

—- END —-

The time, approximately 5:30 am. The place, the mean tree-lined streets of Canterbury, CT. The crime is murder. This is my beat. I am Fluffy. I solve crimes. “What’s the story, Snick?” I said. “Well I think—“ Snickers said. The chocolate Lab pup was quivering with excitement. “Cut the nonsense. Give me the facts. Just the facts.” Snickers ran in a tight circle, tail wagging. Finally he sat down and calmed himself. “At 5:03 I was making my rounds when I came across a puddle of liquid and shards of glass, on the living room floor,” Snickers said. I remember when I was a pup myself, wet nose, no brains, all heart. “Good boy,” I said. Snickers started to wiggle again but nipped at his leg to cover his nervous energy. “Assess.” “Well first I thought someone peed the rug and forgot.” I cuffed his head. “Then I decided one of the humans made a mess in the middle of the night. You know the humans have been weird lately. Sleeping late, staying up to all hours, day drinking.” I cuffed him again. “Use your senses,” I scolded. We inhaled. The nose always knows. The answer flashed. “I smell…fish. Fresh fish and…” Snickers’ eyes narrowed and then recognition dawned across his adorable Lillie face. “And faint traces of Mr. Belvedere. Old Scratchy managed to get his fat butt up the bookshelf and knock over the new fishbowl.” “Exactly.” My chest swelled with pride. The puppy was coming along nicely for a Labrador. “But this bookshelf is over six feet. Nothing is out of place.” I walked away from the ex-fish and headed for that sunny patch in the laundry by the back door. “Remember what I told you.” “When you have eliminated all which is impossible, then whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth,” answered Snickers. “No.” I stretched in the patch of warmth and walked in a circle. “Just cause there’s snow on the roof doesn’t mean there isn’t a fire in the kitchen?” Snickers cocked his head super cutely. “No.” I circled again and curled into sleep.” “I know, I know. The cat always did it,” Snickers yipped. I raised a weary eyebrow. I gave him a nod and the puppy ran off to worry Mr. Belvedere. “Good boy, Snick, good boy.”

she struck me as a child, she is a liar, as far as she goes, there’s nowhere to go, doesn’t she know? it’s forever.