Dog Days
Dog Days
by Maxwell Sebastian Burchett
There I was.
Relaxing in my house, enjoying some chew time on my favorite chew toy, the one that has the mouse squeak when I bite it in just the right place. Something that I do every few minutes just because I really like that sound while I’m chewing. It’s a terrier thing.
That’s when I heard an unfamiliar voice. A bark, in human terms. And some whining. Oh, it’s a baby, or puppy as they say. I stopped with the chewing to get a precise read on what I was hearing. Oh, yeah, I was right. But nothing worth getting up for.
Then my human, Sebastian, came into the kitchen, where my bed is in the corner near the fridge. He was carrying this puppy. A golden retriever. I could recognize those anywhere, even the puppies. They have that face with a perpetual smile. I have a couple of goldens as friends in the neighborhood and see them most days when out for a walk. Nice guys really. But what’s this puppy doing here? Being carried and cuddled by Sebastian. “Who’s that?” I barked. “Look, Lucky! Our new doggie!” I think that is what Sebastian was saying. What the hell? New doggie! We don’t need a new doggie. I’m the dog here. No one asked me about this.
Then the thought occurred to me. Oh my god! Am I being replaced? After all the things I’ve done for this family. Like being the ultimate security service here, barking night and day to warn off any intruders. And being the star of dog services by always being available to provide comfort companionship whenever needed, or not. And always providing friendly greetings to all guests by jumping on them just to be sure they know how enthusiastic I am about their visiting us and how welcome they are. Is this the reward I get? Demoted, laid-off, attention starved, or ignored for some newcomer, some interloper. New doggie! That hurts.
At first though, I couldn’t control myself wanting to check out another dog. But after a couple of jumps, as a protest and to let Sebastian know what I thought of this situation, I got back in my bed and gave my most sullen response along with a couple of low whimpers. I hope Sebastian got the message. He doesn’t listen sometimes.
As I lay there on my bed, contemplating possible unfortunate fates, I could not help but feel a twinge of curiosity about this newcomer they’re calling Biscuit. I reluctantly lifted my head and peered around the corner to catch a glimpse of the intruder. And there it was - a tiny ball of fur stumbling clumsily on wobbly legs, completely unaware of the world it had entered. My world, that is.
A mischievous thought crossed my mind. Maybe, just maybe, I could teach this little one a thing or two about being a dog in this house and impress upon him who the top dog is around here. After all, I have years of experience under my collar. I have perfected the art of digging holes in the backyard, chewing up shoes, and snagging treats from the kitchen counter.
With this in mind, I felt a renewed sense of purpose. I hopped off my bed and sauntered over to this puppy, who seemed more interested in its own tail than anything else. I see why he got the name Biscuit. He’s about the color of my favorite dog biscuits; the ones that are shaped like little bones. I swear there’s something in those that’s addictive. But I digress.
I approached Biscuit cautiously, wagging my tail and putting on my best "wise elder" expression. "Hey, little pup," I said, trying to sound as authoritative as possible. "Welcome to my pack. I'm Lucky, the one who keeps things running smoothly around here. If you're lucky you might have me as your mentor."
The puppy's eyes widened with a mix of excitement and confusion. It wagged its tail in response, unaware of the responsibility it had just unknowingly accepted. We both got in some serious sniffing, especially of all working parts, just so we both know exactly who we’re dealing with here.
From that day forward, I have taken it upon myself to show Biscuit the ropes. We go on wild adventures together, exploring every nook and cranny of the house. I hope my human appreciates all the effort I’ve put in training this pup. I taught him the art of howling at the moon, the thrill of chasing squirrels in the park, and the joy of stealing socks from the laundry basket. I have to say, this little fellow is a natural champion at chewing. After I showed him where the shoes are kept, he has chewed right through Sebastian’s new basketball shoes in no time. I guess it is something about the texture and taste of those high-performance Nikes. If he likes them that much, I said just do it.
As the days have turned into weeks, the bond between us has grown stronger. Biscuit looks up to me with admiration, seeking guidance in every situation. I cannot help but feel a sense of accomplishment, knowing that I am shaping the future of this little ball of fur.
And so, instead of being replaced or ignored, I found a new purpose in my life - to pass down my wisdom and experience to the next generation. Together, we have become the ultimate team, Lucky and Biscuit, causing mischief and spreading laughter wherever we go.
This pup is still a bit low energy on some things though. Must be a breed thing. Goldens are sort of on the mellow side. But everyone has to play to their strengths. So as a terrier, I still have to take charge of being sure everyone in the house is totally awake in the middle of the night whenever I hear any sounds outside. Although lately, Sebastian has been up most of the night anyway with the pup crying from separation anxiety. I can certainly relate; I have been there on that one. Actually, that still hits me occasionally even now. But I have learned to manage it; a number two on the carpet followed by a number one on the new sofa seems to help. It is amazing how clarifying territory is a such a soothing thing mentally.
As for Sebastian, he has realized that having two four-legged troublemakers in the house is double the fun. He showers us with love and attention, making sure we both feel special in our own ways.
So, in the end, what seemed like a threat has turned out to be an unexpected opportunity for me to become a mentor and a beloved companion to this little guy. And as I lay on my bed, surrounded by the joyful chaos of our shared adventures, I cannot help but think that having a “new doggie” wasn't so bad after all. I do though worry sometimes what could be next with Sebastian. He at times has serious behavioral problems. I wonder who he might bring home next? A cat!
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