Ruben and the Good-Good Day
I knew today was going to be a good day because I had chicken for a snack when I woke up!
But then it got even better: Mom mixed pure pumpkin into my dry kibble, along with warm water, to make it extra creamy and crunchy. Just the way I like it.
Yes, today is a good-good day, and the weather doesn’t seem as hot or humid. Even better, the sky seems clear. I despise thunderstorms. The thunder makes me quiver and shake so bad that I can’t even climb the stairs to get to safety . . . where Mom is. Lately Mom’s been giving me and my sister doggy treats that have something called hemp in them. She says if we take those hemp pills daily, we’ll be all la-la about loud thunder and pouring rain. We’ll see about that!
We eat in the basement, which means we get to run around outside and check for squirrels or raccoons in the yard first. We have what Mom calls an “outside basement.” We need to go out the front door and race around to the backyard to get into it. It’s cool down there in the summer. I don’t like heat! My black fur soaks up the hot sun and doesn’t let it go.
After Mom finishes feeding Louisa, that spoiled pig, and the rest of the outside gang, we go inside. I love this part of the day: my sibs and I get treats! Today we each get peanut butter, a doggy cookie, and our hemp pills. Like I said, it’s going to be a great day. When Papa comes over, I bet we’ll go for a long hike!
Papa arrives and I grab the nearest thing I see, a sock, and run around half-crazed with it in my mouth. Mom’s chasing me because it’s her good sock. Big deal—I like having something in my mouth when I’m excited, and she keeps leaving her socks on the floor.
It’s time! Téte, Finn and I are all jumping and barking because we love going for hikes. But wait a minute . . . they just made Finn and Téte go back in the house, and they put me in the car. I start crying. Something’s not right. If one of us goes, we all go—we’re a pack.
I sit up as straight as I can to watch out the window. Both Mom and Papa have told me to please stop whining, but I can’t. And when we pull into the vet’s parking lot, my good-good day flies right out the window.
I try to pull Mom down the street when we get out of the car; I try to dig my claws in and hold my space; I try everything I can think of, with lots of loud whining. But in the door I go, half pushed, half dragged, with Mom saying over and over, “It’s okay, Ruben. No one will hurt you.”
Well, I just might hurt someone, because that’s how I’m feeling about this trickery! Everything was pointing to the best day ever, and now this. I. Do. Not. Like. Going. To. The. Doctor. Mom knows this and so does Papa. Traitors!
Dr. Jenna seems nice but I don’t want her touching me. Doctors scare me. Everyone keeps trying to give me treats, but I’m not falling for that. I want to go home and be with Téte and Finn. I want to go for our walk!
Mom holds me in a bear hug, all the while telling me how much she loves me, while the doctor pokes me—ouch!—with two different needles. I do not like this at all.
And it’s over. Mom and Dr. Jenna are giving me lots of treats. I eat them all as I wag my tail and say, “Let’s get out of here!”
Papa is waiting for us. He tells me I’m a big, brave boy. I look at Mom, willing her not to tell Papa how scared I was, and she doesn’t.
Instead of turning right to go home, we turn left. And just like that, it’s a good-good day again. A great day. A magnificent day! It’s just me, Mom, and Papa, walking around Sidie Hollow Lake, where I get to smell all the wonderful smells, wade in the water and get a drink, and get all of Mom and Papa’s attention to myself.
When we get back home, I forget all about telling Téte and Finn the part about the doctor. Next time we go there, I vow to be braver.
For now, I’m going to lie on the back porch in the shade and rest on this good-good day.