Hello. My name is Buttons, I think. My human addresses me all kinds of ways, calling me things like “goochy-goo” and “doggy-dog,” and makes other strange sounds to me. So I’m not sure what my name actually is. But no matter. I’m writing this in the hope that there are other dogs out there like me, who frequently wonder what exactly their human is doing.
From my perspective, humans aren’t very logical. They stay up when they’re tired. They cover their bodies with clothes, which they dump into a bucket at the end of the day. (Have you ever smelled your human’s “dirty clothes” bucket? If not, you’re missing out. It’s wonderful.) Strangest of all, they gather around that big rectangle on the wall, where they watch other humans doing the same things they do. What is happening??
Sometimes, my human picks me up and carries me around, making those strange sounds at me. I usually accept this, until he puts me down in another part of the house. Why am I here? I didn’t want to be in this room. Now I have to walk all the way back to where I was sleeping.
Which brings me to my next question – why are humans always moving around? Why can’t they ever just sit still? From the moment they roll out of their enormous beds, they wander from room to room, never stopping to smell the dirt.
WHAT IS THAT SOUND?! WHO’S AT THE DOOR??!!
Sorry. A dog must. Once, I stalked a rabbit in the back yard for hours. I finally lunged at the little creature, clamped its neck with awesome power, and shook it vigorously until it stopped moving. It was a glorious kill – a joy I’m not sure my human will ever have the pleasure of knowing. I laid the rabbit at my human’s big feet, expecting high praise, and maybe one of those crunchy things he gives me when I’m a good boy.
My reward for this perfectly-executed hunt? A bath. And an angry human (which is terrifying). My human always feeds me. ‘For once,’ I thought, ‘I shall provide for him in return.’
See if I ever bring you gifts from outside again, human!
I suppose humans are just too different to ever truly understand. Maybe we dogs just aren’t smart enough – maybe humans are too smart. Either way, he rubs my belly in places my paws can’t reach. He knows my favorite ball, and loves throwing it almost as much as I love chasing it. And he gives me food.
I suppose it is these things that keep me around – life is so easy this way!
Written by Nick Say