Friday, August 19, 2011

The Pet (A Flash Fiction Piece)



I WATCH him walking around. Sometimes he just cracks me up; by the way he just paces around, looking for whatever he may have lost. Pets are so funny that way. They just move about from place to place, running their little errands that they deem so important. I wonder sometimes why he spends so much time in the kitchen, but as long as he’s happy I’m happy I guess.

I turn back to the TV for a moment, watching the commercial for the dish detergent that is supposed to clean the dishes so much better than whatever brand you’re already using. I can’t help but to be completely bored by the lousily made commercial.

I look back to my pet, just to see what he was doing.

From where I sit I can see him heading for his beloved water bowl. Sometimes I wonder why he goes for it so often and empties it all the way every time, only to need a refill later. Good thing it was kept up with or he would be getting very thirsty and would have quite the problem. 

It’s the same way with his food, he’s always going to get something to eat, it’s like he’s a bottomless pit or something. I used to wonder why he ate so much, in fact I was beginning to wonder if something was wrong with him, but then I saw how big he was and figured he needed that much. Apparently that’s perfectly normal. He does have a very nice coat of brown fur; I can definitely say that. Whether or not that has to do with his diet is a mystery to me.

After he eats a lot and takes care of all the after effects he’s usually pretty tired and parks it on the couch while I watch TV. He’s kind of funny when he sleeps, listening to the noises he makes when he sleeps always amuses me. I just take a look at him when a commercial is on; he’s far more entertaining than the commercials are.

But that’s not all really. I must admit I also like it when he’s feeling cuddly. I’m not the snuggly type, but if he needs me that’s fine. I’m perfectly fine with a bit of snuggle when it’s needed. For me, if it’s important to him, it’s important to me. I’ll scoot over a little bit. No big deal, just a bit of couch, he can share it with me if he really needs me.

We get along fine, my pet and I. It does kind of bother me when he does some things, like get up in the middle of the night and rock the bed, or when he starts fussing when he has to go outside. Sometimes it’s just like: for real, man. Get over it. We all have things we must do after all; sometimes he just needs to chill. It’s amazing how he can get so worked up over nothing at all. But then again, we all get like that sometimes, I guess. It’s just the way we all are, getting excited over stupid things all the time.

It’s not just him getting upset about things though, he has his happy moments, like when I’m watching football on TV, he gets worked up with the crowd, that’s always really interesting, as you well know if you’ve ever watched one of yours do this. Just watch how excited he gets as if he actually understands what’s going on.
Ah, funny stuff.

He walks towards me, carrying the leash. He nudges me with it, asking me to take him for a walk. He loves his walks.

Being as wonderful as I am, I get off the couch and head to the door. He carries the leash with him as he follows me to the door. He knows what time it is.

I sit as he hooks the leash to my collar and slips on his shoes to protect his feet.

He opens the door and I step out first, just about as ready for our walk was he is. “Hold up, buddy.” He says.

I slow down to let him catch up.

From the forthcoming collection: "After Hours: 13 Strange Stories"

2 comments:

  1. That was neat. I look forward to the whole collection.

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  2. Glad you enjoyed it. I'm hoping to have the collection up by next weekend.

    ReplyDelete