Monday, October 15, 2012

From Charlie...

Day 15 in the new land,

I spent my morning in the wilderness, eagerly hunting down those things viewed as threats to the world I know. Spent the latter hours presiding over my domain, watching over all who dared enter, and slept to preserve energy, should some hardship happen upon me in the evening.

The female native arrived back at the den after the sun passed it's zenith. I attempted to convey to her my excitement at having company once more by leap frogging, rather than walking as normal. She seemed to understand, but gesturing as a form of communication is getting wearysome. I must teach them how to speak properly. I have picked up the general meaning of a few of their noises, but the effectiveness of our communication is questionable.

Just when I think I have learned all there is to know about these other beings, they surprise me still further. Upon letting me into the abode on her arrival, and after tormenting me with her "human food" (my gesturing must not have been very effective in this situation. I sat and stared politely, the normal way to ask for something to be shared, but she never once acknowledged my plea), she obtained several containers of unknown substances, and went to the room that I'm rarely allowed to enter. (The natives have a word called "privacy" that I don't entirely understand, yet, but this cave with the elevated water bowl and the empty pond, is a place where they demand such.) Her actions after this point were as such that they puzzled me greatly. Through some action of those oddly shaped paws of hers, she despensed various toxic-smelling waters on every surface in the privacy-cave and proceeded to wipe them away again with a piece of cloth! She then sprinkled the pond with a very pungent powder that I was immensely curious about. I watched her carefully, which she seemed to have no objection to, but when I tried to take a sample (for research, of course), she used my name in that menacing tone that I have identified to mean "Stop what you're doing".

These humans are selfish beings.

The native female then went out into the main den and began picking things up and moving them to her sleep-den. Most things were thrown carelessly onto the large mound within the "hanging cave" (the name is macabre, I know, but having seen this place, there is no other word for it. It appears many skinny, furless animals have been hung from a large stick strung across the length). In this careless manner, she appeared to be finished within five minutes, at which time, she brought out the Howling Beast.

This female has amazing courage when it comes to the Beast. She wrangles it with a skill that must have been developed as a small child. She shows no fear. The male human must not be quite so brave, as I have never seen him touch it, and the female usually brings it out when he is not around: most likely to spare his nerves. I cannot help but worry, however. I am getting fond of the natives, and for all her bravery, I'm afraid that she will one day be devoured by the thing she believes to have tamed. I followed her around, as close as my own fears would allow me, hoping to save her from the very maw of the devil. I offered her my favorite toy, but when even that did not deter her from the task at hand, I resigned and left her to her fate, choosing instead to chew on my bone-ring. She appears to have survived the encounter.

I decided to try out some more body language, after she settled down again; I paced back and forth by the door, and whined occasionally. It seems as though she learned that one fairly quickly, as she let me back outside momentarily. I heard her grunt the sound "annoying" as I went out the door. Will have to decipher that noise as well.

Female human is now sitting with the black plastic device. She usually gets frustrated when I attempt to read what she is writing. Perhaps it is becuase she doesn't want me to know that she is writing about me. But I know. I've seen enough. It is odd, however, to see how long she will sit with that object, and apparently not get bored. This lack of movement must be an idiosyncratic trait of the human species.

Hope to sneak into the Bin of Goodness this evening, but those humans seem to have eyes everywhere. How can they blame a dog for trying to get decent food, when all he's had to eat lately is prison fodder?

Wish me luck on that particular endeavor. Will write again soon with more discoveries.

Lt. Charles Dogford
Retriever, First Class

4 comments :

  1. Ha! Love it! Charles really should check into moonlighting as an author of doggy books. He relates so well.

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  2. Hahahahahahaha!!! My favorite part was that the male apparently is still afraid of the monster since he never touches it. I heart Charlie.

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  3. Seriously love this...elevated water bowl, howling beast, so funny!

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  4. It's amazing how something like cleaning the bathroom and vacuuming the living room can be made funny by relaying it through the eyes of a pompous, British-accented dog...may have to do this more often.

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