Two Old Dogs
By hudsonmoon
- 2741 reads
My dog has no empathy. I have been home for three days—suffering in heroic silence—with a wretched bronchial infection. Even after permission was given to do his business in a quiet corner of the kitchen, he stood firm in his decision to drag me out in the cold.
My future looks bleak. My dog displays no Lassie-like traits. There will be no grampy got drunk and fell in the well again heroics. No comforting wail of an oncoming ambulance. No photo journalist snapping shots of me embracing the beast from the comfort of a warm hospital bed. No, sir. With anxious eyes bulging he stares me down, saying, Take me out for my morning crap you phlegm spewing wreck. So out I go, wheezing all the way.
Outside I man-up—as man-up as one can be in pajama bottoms and slippers—ranting and raving about what a miserable disappointment he has become to me in my elder years. Keep walking, old man. Keep walking.
After I get home I read a study by the Animal Health Foundation that says my particular twelve year old dog is equal to that of a seventy-seven year-old human. He’s eight years older? This shines a brighter light on things. I go to Google and search nursing homes for aged canines. I come up empty.
Hey! I didn’t adopt you. You adopted me. Remember that day at the Animal Rescue Foundation? You were there as a family and you said to your son that whichever pup comes to him first is the one you should choose. And here I am. Still the chosen one. You made your doggie bed . . . blah, blah, blah.
“You were barely a pound back then. Now, you’re more heifer than dog.”
Hey! You’re the one that feeds me. Over compensating for your miserable indifference to my needs.
“Your needs? I feed and bathe you. I shower you with doggie treats.”
I haven’t had a bath in months. Getting so I can’t stand the smell of my own butt. And doggie treats? Pigs ears? Beef jerky? Dead animal parts. Have you ever said to yourself, I think I’ll treat myself to a pig’s ear? Of course not. That’s because you got your face stuffed in a gallon jug of chocolate ice cream. And you’re calling me the heifer?
That was a low blow. I thought this dog had better sense than to bite the hand that overfeeds him. But such is my life. They’ll be no fetching the pipe and slippers with this one. I’m lucky to still have a spot in my own bed, because Baxter loves sleeping at me feet. That’s if and when he can get his fat ass to make the leap.
I heard that!
Picture courtesy of Wiki pics:https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Antonio_Rotta_A_man_and_his_dog,...
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Comments
I hope you'll be well in time
I hope you'll be well in time for your close-up Hudson - we are counting on you! Maybe Baxter can stand in if necessary - can he sing in tune?
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One good thing about having a
One good thing about having a cat is that when they want to go out, they definitely don't want the human to come with them!
This is so funny - I can actually hear you and dog sparring over relative edible treats.
Take care - hope you're soon back to full vocal strength.
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Enjoyed this very much :0)
Enjoyed this very much :0) Get well soon! We have a different problem as Tina who is a cat doesn't like using her litter tray but also doesn't like rain, so will ask to go out and just sit in the porch then ask to come in again, over and over, getting more and more bursting and meouwing more and more loudly at our failure to fix the leaking sky
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Sounds like Mog the Cat who
Sounds like Mog the Cat who used to ask to go out of the back door, but then came back in again because it was raining, and then she went to the front door and asked to go out, in case it wasn't raining there : )
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Oh! I had not remembered Mog
Oh! I had not remembered Mog doing that - Tina does this too, but it is a quick visit outdoors from the backdoor as not much protection from the rain there :0) She goes out also on the offchance that her plate might reward her with something she would like to eat when she returns bravely from the wild. Very demoralising to see her dash in and run up to it eagerly, sniff whatever offering I have misguidedly purchased, then walk sadly away. Then try the whole thing again half an hour later...
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One day you might
write something that won't make me laugh, but I'm not going to hold my breath. In the meantime, thanks for making me laugh yet again.
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This is our Facebook and Twitter Pick of the Day 22nd Mar 23
Congratulations.
Please, dear members, retweet and/or share this wryly funny piece.
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Congratulations Hudson - very
Congratulations Hudson - very well deserved golden cherries - make sure Baxter gets his share!
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all life is a leap in the
all life is a leap in the dark. when you can't leap go in your slippers and pick up poop.
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This made me laugh and
This made me laugh and reminded me so much of my old dog Pip who had so much pride and only pooped once in the house and that was when I was dying my hair and couldn't leave the bath. I still have little Kai who is the opposite and such a worrier.
I hope you feel better soon. Feeling poorly is so miserable when you can't do the simplest of activities, especially when your canine companion is a stubborn, cat-brained, self-serving taker with no empathy.
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Hi Rich,
Hi Rich,
I think all the above comments have said it all. Just had to let you know I really enjoyed reading, and hope you get better very soon.
Jenny.
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Baxter and his fat ass! Get
Baxter and his fat ass! Get well soon, sir. See you at the Reading Event thingy. Paul
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Sorry, you've been ill, but
Sorry, you've been ill, but thank you for writing something so funny. Your dog sounds pretty well-behaved. If it makes you feel any better, I came downstairs this week to a crime scene, my cat, The Bear, was chewing on something and I could see a large disarticulated leg. I panicked and thought he'd killed a small cat and had half eaten it. Then he dropped what he was chewing and I saw it was a massive rat's head. I then had to clean it all up whilst he slept it off. See you next weekend!
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Hope you're feeling better,
Hope you're feeling better, mate. Enjoyed this very much as I always do with your writing. It's part of the social contract with dogs that they must be walked, no matter what state you're in. One thing I will say, my dog refuses to go out if it's raining too heavily, which has caused some interesting arguments (he's a labrador too). He also gets a stiffy when he sees my mum, which is beyond weird and unacceptable.
Dogs, eh?
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My Black Labrador, Frankie,
My Black Labrador, Frankie, is no longer with me; he past away 2 years ago but his personality, large (all 120 lbs of him) and in charge (always got his way, in a loving way but still bossy) was much like your Baxter. Sorry you weren't feeling well, hope you're better now- and loved your song the other day; so glad it was recorded; it is one to listen to again.
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