The Dog (pt 2)
Posted on | April 30, 2010 | Comments Off
“So you mean to tell me you can read my mind and you can communicate with me telepathically?” she said.
“Yes, I can” the rottie continued with great delight at the baffled look on his new Mistress’s face.
“We are going to have to set up some ground rules, I can’t have you going through my head all the time, it’s, um, you know, private” she said.
And the two of them bantered back and forth discussing the new rules of “Dog and Mistress.” This went on for quite some time until she started to get a headache. But there had to be rules. Rules to cover this “Dog” going through her head and this “Dog” seeing her in her undergarments and so on. So what if he was just a dog. (OK, so he wasn’t “just a dog.”)
She set up a space for the Dog to call “his” and put out water and food. He’d made it clear that dog food was not his first choice and that he’d be expecting human food as well. Little did he know she was not terribly fond of the kitchen. She would cook. (Rarely) She actually liked cooking once she got going. But the whole act of going to the store and getting the ingredients really took the joy out of it and she never got to the “got going” phase very often. Take out menus were scattered around to appease her human need to eat when she just didn’t want to deal. Even when she was craving a tuna wrap, she could call for take out.
She locked the dog out of her room after letting him out to do his business and lay down on her bed to consider the goings on of the day and the last few weeks and her life. Things had gotten weirder to say the least. You just don’t think of these things happening to you in real life. She was actually shaking a bit and it wasn’t from her myriad of medications. It was from the nerves of it all. It was a lot to take in. She had a talking worm in her life, and now a talking Dog. Probably the same talking Dog that was telling her to get out of bed before (in her dreams) when things were really bad and her depression was at an all time low. Perhaps not. That was kind of a stretch, wasn’t it? Why was this Dog really here???
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