A Day in the Life of a Dog
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A long night of tiresome and vivid dreams ended suddenly this morning with the realization that humans were making breakfast in the food room and the hot sun was already warming the day to uncomfortable temperatures. It is difficult to think about the heat or anything else because of the extreme excitement at the prospect of being able to eat. Hurriedly and clumsily, I rush to the food room and sniff around the small humans’ feet for their flavorful breakfasts. The scents that surround the room, though they happen every morning, remain unendingly delightful. There are sweet, citrusy scents combined with salty and sturdy smells of bacon and eggs. There are savory scents mixed with strong hints of cinnamon and honey. Suddenly, there are piercing screams from the big humans that cause me extreme fright as I scramble to rush out of the table legs. There is still a knowing and greedy hunger that will not subside, and gets worse and worse with so many amazing smells.
Finally, some cardboard food is placed the bowl that sits on the dirty newspaper, which is somewhat of a relief. The bowl seems like it has not been cleaned in days, its cornered edges grey and faintly smelling of hair. The scents of the human food are still tantalizing, but this food will suffice for now.
The humans are suddenly bustling about, creating greats amounts of energy and tangible enthusiasm in the air. Canvas bags are grabbed, crinkly and pleasant-smelling paper bags are placed in them, and the small humans rush out the door, whisking outside air in as a reminder of what a scorcher the day will turn out to be. After all the humans leave, the entire house is suddenly eerily calm. The chairs are not sat in, the beds are made, and the fireplace still bathes in a blanket of warmth from the night before. At first, this emptiness is pleasing because it leaves unguarded the scraps of the heavenly breakfast that was so recently abandoned. However, after all the scraps are gone the eeriness translates into lonliness.
There don’t seem to be any means of leaving the house, and without the pleasure of the humans’ company the minutes and hours tick by with little eventfulness. Sometimes there are wafts of interesting smells coming through the window from the outside, which is exciting and diverting for a while. Sometimes large stretches of time will go by without any new smells whatsoever, and at these times it is easy to allow the squalid heat subdue me into vivid dreams. These dreams only last for short periods of time until I again become consciously aware of the scratchy and stale-smelling carpet beneath my fur.
Sometimes there are hints that the humans might be returning as the do every day, such as noises from the outside, or children’s’ voices on the street. However, when the humans do finally return, their sounds are distinctive and unmistakable. One little and the two small humans return with canvas bags in their hands. The big human has tiredness in its voice, but the small ones continue to play and pick at each other. They suddenly notice my presence which for a time brings me exceeding amounts of joy. The attention is enthusiastic but flighty and is soon over.
The humans seem directionless as the wander around, but the small ones seem to find a purpose and place themselves in front of a large box of light. The light is interesting, because it moves around and takes the form of all kinds of things—trees, houses, lamps, humans, and all kinds of animals. The small humans are transfixed by the light box which is quite visually captivating. It continues to change form and move around. Furthermore, all kinds of interesting sounds come from the box as the light shapes move. The sounds happen out of thin air, and are mumbled and difficult to understand. The small humans are endlessly captivated by the sounds and the light shapes, and have stopped poking each other and making ssounds of their own.
Suddenly, the other big human comes inside the house, and the small humans react by hurrying to stop the light shapes from happening. Afterwards, there is just blank blackness, which is puzzling and distressing. The big human that has just come in smells strongly of the outside and the heat from the sun is radiating off his dark attire. His skin is moist and stale smelling, and he sits almost immediately. The humans begin to all interact with each other with sounds, and I am able to attach meanings to some of those sounds after hearing them many times—meanings like “walk” “shoes” and “dog”, which fills me with excitement.
The outside world is calling, which its endless sights, smells, tastes, and sounds. The air tastes like pollen and grass, sweet and natural. The gravel feels warm but familiar and comforting. The sky is infinitely clear and bright, lighting up the numerous shapes of planes and houses. Smells of squirrels, wood, car fuel, and smoke are all combined in the air with hundreds of other scents, creating the perfect atmosphere. Human voices are audible in the distance as well as bird noises from up in the sky and in the trees. The bird voices are melodic and chipper, sounding sweet and happy to the ear.
Back inside the house, an atmosphere of calmness and tranquility is prominent. The fire is again lit, exhibiting great warmth and familiar comforting smells. This sense of tranquility becomes solitudes as the humans being to file into rooms for the night. After they have all left the main areas of the house, there is again loneliness followed gradually by dreams that start to take hold. They are exciting and different, compiling all the sights, scents, sounds, tastes, and feelings of the day into an imaginative wonder world. The prospect that all those senses will begin again in the morning is a cheerful and happy thought.