Dog Truth

“Yup, I definitely teepee’d your living room.” Oops, that wasn’t supposed to come out. Why did that come out? I eyed the water bowl on the floor next to me. I’d only taken one drink. True, that emptied about half the bowl. But it was only one drink.

As soon as I finished though, I knew something wasn’t quite right. I laid down next to the bowl while my head spun like I’d tried to look out the side window during a car ride.

Crazy human. What’d she do to me?

“What about that spot on the corner of the couch? Who tore it apart?” She gave me that look that said she already thought she knew the answer.

I bit my tongue and glanced at Herman. He narrowed his cat eyes and bared his pointy teeth. Nope, not a good idea to tell on Herman.

“Well, what happened to my couch?”

“Not me,” I whined.

Her eyes opened wide. Surprise maybe? Or anger that I just implicated her cat? She rolled the bottle in her hand, muttering like she always did when reading. “makes imposs… for five minutes….ask what you like.”

She’d poured some of that stuff into my bowl. Five minutes. I heard her say five minutes.

“You’re saying Herman did that?” She pointed, almost flinging the bottle from her hand.

Oh dear. Herman was creeping toward me. He’d kill my nose if I said anything but I felt the urge to respond welling up like a balloon swelling in my throat.

Gotta move. Gotta kill five minutes.

I stood and my legs wobbled like the baby’s. I tilted onto my side.

“Answer me!” she demanded.

“Gablablenla…” I ended with a long ‘ahhhh’. I wasn’t lying. The stuff didn’t stop gibberish though. Thank whatever doggy lord existed.

She stepped toward me and I bolted between her legs, careening into the door frame and yelping as I fell up the stairs.

“Get back here, you mutt.” Her steps thumped up the stairs behind me.

Five minutes. Keep moving. 

Maddy was coming through the front door as I rounded the corner. I saw the open space, freedom and fresh air and the chance to run for as long as needed without hitting anything.

The door closed just as I darted for it. Ka-thunk! Door 1. Head 0. I tilted over again, my head spinning with a new ache between my eyes.

“Serves you right. Now tell me about the couch.” Her face loomed in my fuzzy eyes.

“I know nothing,” I sighed as I passed out.


Slowly opening my eyes, I found myself nose to nose with whiskers.

“Nice play,” Herman grudgingly said. “Drink out of the toilet for awhile, you bowl’s still dangerous.”

The End