The Four-legged Child!

Exhausted ...from doing nothing all day long!
Exhausted ...from doing nothing all day long!

What about me?

Ah, sweet opportunity!

I''m finally alone. Everyone's gone. The kids, the wife ...gone. It's just me and Cletus! At the moment Cletus, our Great Dane, is sprawled out across the floor ...sleeping. Apparently he's completely worn out, exhausted from doing nothing all day long. Sweet doggie-dreams!

It seems I always get interrupted whenever I attempt to do something I enjoy. No sooner do I sit down to that great article or repose in thought at my laptop, ready to unleash a torrent of raw creative literary prowess; immediately someone's clamoring for me. So those rare moments when I'm finally alone, I like to sit down at my laptop and write ...or at least something that resembles writing. I never said I write well. Writing seems such an arrogant endeavor, as if to think I have something so important to say that someone else would actually want to read it. I enjoy reading as well but there's something about the feel of creating something new.

And so I paint!

No, Rockwell paints! Da Vinci paints. Picaso paints I merely smear paint around on a canvas in a grotesque facsimile of painting, somewhere on the level of a chimpanzee with a brush. Ok. Maybe I need a new outlet?!!

And so I write!

No, Thurber writes! Faulkner writes. Thoreau writes. I merely 'smear' words around on a blank peice of paper in a crude mimicry of writing, much like a chimpanzee with a pencil.

No matter.

Yes! My time. Sweet, delicious time to enjoy my endeavor...

Not so fast! It appears I have one more child to deal with, the four-legged one, before I can be alone. He sees my creative outlets as a distraction from my full-time job of continuously doting on him. In his canine brain, there's little difference between my laptop and say ...an unsuspecting fire hydrant!

As soon as I sit down with my rapidly dwindling repository of great ideas to write about, no sooner than a momentary spark of brilliance comes over me; here comes that lumbering brute to inject himself in the middle of my work space. Next thing you know, he's putting his front paws on the desk and trying to climb up in my lap. 15 seconds is about the time it takes me to go from waxing creative to creatively devoid. That's coincidentally about the time it takes for me to extract Cletus from my desk and try to resume work.

It's like he's saying, "What about me?!!"

I originally got a dog for companionship. It seemed like a great idea to have at least one family member that doesn't ask for money. That was before our current occupant / dependant arrived with all his neurotic baggage. Now I'm seriously considering hiring a baby-sitter just to take care of the dog. Let me reiterate, the dog is definitely neurotic. Sometimes, it's like a scene right out of the movie, "What About Bob?" only this time Bill Murray is a 120 pound, six-foot tall Great Dane!

I wonder if there's such a thing as doggie-day care?

Not So Fast!

 It appears I have one more child to deal with, the four-legged one.

More by this Author


Comments 3 comments

Buffy 23 months ago

Keep these arielcts coming as they've opened many new doors for me.


jimagain profile image

jimagain 23 months ago from Hattiesburg, Mississippi Author

Thank you for rescuing this dusty old relic of my former mediocre literary attempts previously lost in cyberspace....and I am both impressed and jealous of your vocabulary!


Carlitos 23 months ago

PAmelaAs staff to Augie, I salute your recginotion of the qualities in dachshunds that are, in fact, quite terrieresque. (Please note for naming purposes there are smooth-, long- and wire-haired versions, all as demanding and attitudinally terra dogish as the next.) Augie is a tough cookie, and yet can have you coo-ing and fawning with an upward flick of his eyes. He vocally defends his territory, which is everything as far as he can see. (That's about 4 houses in any direction, being a suburbanite.) He's trained deliverymen Dave/FedEx and Ted/UPS to leave him biscuits atop the packages they bring as payment for occasionally violating his porchspace. He also defends the waterline in the backyard, and although he doesn't acknowledge the word duck in his extensive vocabulary, if you quack like a duck a few times (clearly his idea of entertainment) it sends him running down to the water's edge, barking furiously at what he anticipates are incoming waterborne invaders mallards, herons, egrets, roseate spoonbills, seagulls, cormorants, pelicans, etc. Especially all manner of ducks, mostly (we think) because they get bread and stale crackers he thinks we should be giving him to eat, himself. Dachshunds would eat until they exploded if you let them, as there is no self-regulating mechanism in their DNA. In addition to his superior ability to solve those supposedly challenging dog puzzles which he dispatches in seconds to find hidden toys or food (see?) he has the bossypants-itude and terrier-torialitude Oscar and Lucy project so brilliantly. Augie also understands and extensive list of words and acts accordingly, including the basic commands (many of which he understands and can respond to, but refuses, as yet another way of declaring that we're not the boss of him .) No, down, off, give it, leave it, and quiet' are a few examples. Bath sends him scurring for cover. And if you've managed to give him a bath, the sooner he can command you to open the door to let him outside so he can roll around on the grass on top of a dead fish or chameleon or something suitably stinky, the happier he is. And he's shown us then, hasn't he? His favorite words (each of which inspires a suitable reaction) are eat, treat, ride in the car, to bed, toy. His greatest enemies? A mention of Mr. Squirrel sends him barking furiously around up a certain tree. Kitty Cat , who lives acros the street and, so cat-like, lives to torment Augie, not only violates his property but teases and mocks him by strutting along the top of a 3 foot decorative wall that defines Augie's front porch. I have no doubt Oscar and Lucy could easily leap to the top of the wall, thus dispatching Poindexter (Kitty Cat's real name) back across the street to scurry under his garage door to safety, alas, Augie the earthdog is more, shall we say, earth bound and unable to leap even short walls, much less tall buildings. Except in his mind. Just one more reason an alliance with earthdog bretheren and sisteren, who could be called upon under treaty terms to help defend his borders when attacked, is such a great idea. Quo vadis, Yalta?

    Sign in or sign up and post using a HubPages Network account.

    0 of 8192 characters used
    Post Comment

    No HTML is allowed in comments, but URLs will be hyperlinked. Comments are not for promoting your articles or other sites.


    Click to Rate This Article
    working