[For information about this photo, which doesn’t precisely relate to the post,
see the note at the bottom.]
The scene: A suburban home in northern Florida, USA. He is trying to get the household denizens out the door promptly in the morning. He has walked and scooped up after The Pooch. He has fed The Pooch; He has fed The Cat. He has prepared the snacks/lunches which He and She will need during their respective workdays. The Pooch, at the gate to the kitchen, tosses her paper plate in the air, signaling breakfast done-age and, hence, ordering a second course. He ignores her. He sets out the various daily medications which He and She take. The Pooch barks. He ignores her. He brings the newspaper in. The Pooch noses her empty plate around on the tile floor. He ignores her. He gets His water bottle from the refrigerator. The Pooch barks again.
He (to The Pooch): Jesus Christ, all right already, I hear you! You think you’re the only person in the house?!?
_________________________
About the photo: We have a wet bar in the living room, and after we get home from work at the end of the day one or the other of us will usually go there to make a drink. We stock the bottles of sweet-and-smoky-smelling liquids in a cabinet below the sink, as you can see at the right of this photo. About eight of every ten times we do this, The Pooch comes to her water bowl to drink, as shown (here wearing her red Team Woof hoodie). This completely cracks us up.
whaddayamean says
i want a pooch. maybe someday i’ll be responsible enough to deserve one.
John says
whaddayamean: You’d be a natural. The most difficult “responsibility” it requires is the one which discourages you from posting too often about him/her/it. (And THIS Pooch is definitely urban-scale. Practically handbag-scale.)
s.o.m.e.one's brudder says
The “hoodie” totally cracks us up!
John says
brudder: I really debated leaving that parenthetical bit in that sentence, because I was pretty sure that someone, somewhere, was going to think: His dog wears CLOTHES?!?
But then I tried to look at the photo from the standpoint of someone who’d never seen it before. In that person’s head, I imagined, there’d be a question as to exactly what he was looking at. (The cellphone photo is kinda muddy, although I “enhanced” it a little — brightened the colors and so on.) So I opted for clarity over fear of ridicule. I knew I could count on you, though. :)
marta says
Oh, the things I say to our pooches. But they don’t wear clothes. They do wear Christmas bows though. The kiddo insists.
Nance says
Need humor badly today. And this is so bad, it’s pitch perfect.
John says
marta: The Pooch is a nudist tomboy and generally hates clothes. But she’s too small to have much in the way of insulation, and Yorkies don’t have a layer of insulating fur anyhow (they have plain old hair instead). So in the sort of weather we’ve had for a couple months now, even in Florida, she grudgingly goes along with it. Draws the line at bows in her hair, though. She can’t stand them. Which makes me go all paternal and that’s-my-girl.
This was actually one of my briefer monologues with her. They run to paragraphs sometimes.
John says
Nance: I had several things to post about but I, too, needed to laugh about something inconsequential. Was telling The Missus this story on the way to work yesterday and realized it would fit the bill nicely. :)
Querulous Squirrel says
I’m sorry, but I disagree. This is clearly not a monologue but a dialogue. Nonverbal communication counts.
fg says
ha ha, great dog coat and great colour. Funny thing, only yesterday looking for two new born baby gifts I found what I thought to be the perfect place. A pale wood white picket fence style design to the shop exterior, pink and pastel colours and a cute logo. Lots of small size colourful clothes inside. A new baby shop in my local street just when I need one – perfect, and I walked in.
But no, you guessed it, doggy clothes! Floor to ceiling on either side of this tiny shop on mini rails and hangers. I was a little taken aback and didn’t make it through the door and backed away…
fg says
Ok working backwards here through the couple of your posts I hadnt read and now understand your “needed to laugh about something inconsequential.”
I have sent some #ArizonaLove to a/b and Arizona.
best wishes to you JES and to your readers, I am reminded how we are lucky to be alive and well.
John says
Squirrel: I might have known to expect a demand for even more anthropomorphism from someone who’s chosen a pseudonym like yours. :)
John says
fg: Ah yes: pet — especially doggie — boutiques…
I was very resistant to getting a dog in the first place, especially a little dog, representing a breed especially well-known for the tart-’em-up proclivities of their owners at dog shows and such. An early sign that The Pooch and I would hit it off was her rejection of clothing — not that I do, of course, just that it’s often, well, dumb for dogs.
But that’s a pretty funny story about mistaking the pet boutique for a baby boutique. Another difference between women and men, perhaps: a guy might have laughed at the mistake, but then been tempted to get something for the baby there anyway. Alas, it won’t be the Year of the Dog again for a few years.
cynth says
I have these same kinds of conversations with our cat. She follows me when I come at the end of the day, thinking it’s time she ate, except there is still food in her bowl. So I disagree and usually tell her so, along with adding things like, “you know, it’s not very becoming to be so needy,” and the like. She occasionally punctuates things I say with a “meow”, so I’m relatively sure I’m making my point.
She does not wear clothes however, ever. She proved that point early on with the children and neither I nor they have forgotten it.
But I do love Pooch’s hoodie!
John says
cynth: Unless I miss my guess, you probably have a history of talking to animals (and having them talk back) — cats, parakeets… probably even a goldfish, turtle, and/or hamster or two, all of whom were frustrated by their non-functioning or utterly non-existent voiceboxes. Heh.
In those pet boutiques, I sometimes see the displays of leashes and harnesses for cats, and wonder what planet their owners live on.