My People Are Acting Weird

When I first arrived at this den, I learned to accept that my two people sometimes had to leave me alone. I hated it. How would they like it if I locked them up and disappeared for a million years? Not much. They’d bark like mad, too, and might also forget where they’re supposed to pee.

But all of a sudden, my people are here. All day. Every day.

IT’S AWESOME!

On one paw, I can barely contain my joy. I haven’t wiggled this much since I chased deer out of our yard to stop them from eating plants and pooping on my lawn.

Something is wrong, though. The short one, whose head fur smells like coconut, spends most of the day sleeping. This is unusual behavior for someone who normally gets into the bed at night after she fills the big bathroom dish with noisy water and sits in shampoo. I always thought she did this so she wouldn’t take fleas into bed with her, but now she doesn’t care whether she has fleas or not. She just lies under the covers. Every time she coughs. I wish she would have let the vet squirt stuff in her nose, too. Kennel cough is no fun.

I wish the tall one would play ball with me. That’s always been our thing. No matter how late he used to get back to the den, I would bring him my favorite tennis ball, which he would toss down the hall for me to chase and return. Secretly, I love playing with him the most because he doesn’t call my ball “gross” like the short one, who snarls about things like slobber. She also bares her teeth when she sniffs the tall one after we return from a run, but I don’t know what her problem is. I think he smells great.

Now he’s acting weird, too. He spends a lot of time cleaning our den. I don’t like that chemical smell. Reminds me too much of the room where the vet made me sleep so he could take away my bitch-parts without my permission. That’s a pretty rude people habit.

My people have also stopped putting their paws around each other. They used to do this before dinner when the tall one would get back to the den after being gone all day. If another dog tried to paw-squeeze me like that, I would probably growl and bite him, but the short one smiles when the tall one paw-squeezes her and asks “how was your day?” I keep trying to tell them that butt-sniffing is a more appropriate way to greet each other, but they just push me away and bark “down.” Now I feel bad because they don’t greet each other at all anymore.

Today was special because the tall one finally took me outside for a run. The trail was crowded with so many dogs I didn’t know. I could smell their jubilance. Their tongues lolled, and you should have seen how high they held their tails and heads. It was like they had never been on a walk before, or at least not with their whole pack with them, even the people puppies.

Now that I think about it, it’s been a while since I’ve seen the big, yellow car that pick ups neighborhood people puppies in the morning. That car was definitely alpha because it made all the other cars stop and wait for the people puppies to get inside. I always thought people puppies were lucky to ride around in an alpha car all day until it brought them back to their dens in the afternoon. No more fun car rides for them.

Yes, everything is different now, but it’s okay. When my people are here, our den feels warm and comfortable. I try to show my gratitude by standing beside the bed, waiting for the short one to wake up and open her eyes so she can see me gazing at her, which is how I tell her I love her. Her eyes crinkle when she pats my head, scratches under my chin, and says “good girl,” which means “I love you, too.”

There might come a day when my people will have to leave me alone in the den again. I will miss them, but I won’t complain. As much as I want my people to be here with me all the time, I know that the important thing is that they stop acting weird. So I will be patient, try not to scratch, bark, or ignore their commands, and tell them I love them a thousand times a day.

Right now, my people need me.