Dog’s Point of View

Here he comes again. He wants me to play with him, to move my tail. What I want is to go out, go to the park to run, sniff the plants, the trees, meet other dogs to smell their tails.

But no, I don’t know what happens to him that he’s been in here for ages, with me inside, all day. He pulls me down to the tree in front of the building and we climb back up. It’s maddening.

I don’t know why he doesn’t came out. He doesn’t seem sick, like that terrible time: we spent like three days locked up and he in bed, forgetting to give me my balanced food. I hate it, by the way. I want HIS food, the one he eat at the table that smells great. Yes, sometimes it gives me what is leftover and I enjoy it. Balanced food bores me. It is always the same, nothing different to bite. And very dry.

He doesn’t seem sick but he goes from the room to the living room all day, seeing the square thing that is attached to his hand, and sometimes he talks to someone. Every once in awhile I hear him name me. He says I’m fine, but bored.

Of course I’m bored, how could I not be! The walks, the encounters with the neighborhood dogs, the games in the park, running the pigeons, are over.

All day in here. And he is also, on top. Because when I’m alone I can come and go wherever I want: I drink water from the white matter that is in the bathroom, I nibble a bit on the chair, or sniff around in the garbage can. Now he won’t let me do any of that. It watches me all the time, every one of my movements. I can’t do anything fun.

And when I want to get the liquids out of my body, he doesn’t let me either. He says me to hold on, as he puts on the first thing he finds and desperately searches for the key. And me, at the door, wagging my tail and waiting patiently for the Lord to finish wrapping up, grab the little gadget and go down in the elevator.

I like stairs. At first we ran them up and down. Now that he has those things on his feet, if he runs, he falls, so no way: we took the elevator, which is small and I don’t like it. But at least we go outside for a while, I smell fresh air, the smells of the whole neighborhood that I miss so much come to me. It’s a short time and we climb up again, to be locked.

How much more time will pass without leaving the house, or without him taking me out? Occasionally we had gone to the field, and we stayed two whole days, where I could come and go, run wherever I wanted, yes, away from those big beasts similar to us but that do not smell like us, and that sometimes he climbs on top. I liked to bark at him when he was up there, to remind him that his favorite was me, and not that big thing.

It was a long time ago from that.

I really miss it.

When will we go out again?