Dog Haiku
Based on a true story about why my dog needs to fill out job applications
Each morning, she stares
At me on my bed. I ask
“Did you get a job?”
Here’s what inspired this question. She’s not quite tall enough to leap onto my bed, and I have a “no dogs on bed” rule that I implemented when I got her. (She doesn’t know about the others.) So she’s decided the other alternative is to jump high enough to put both of her front paws on the side of the mattress and shove her cold nose on whatever is closest to the edge—sometimes my nose, my cheek or my arm — until I wake up to walk her.
Like clockwork, she does this 60 seconds before my travel alarm clock goes off, as if she cannot handle waiting to hear the ocean waves. And she still has more in store for the rest of the day.
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The “job” question came around after one particular day when she just wouldn’t leave me alone while I was trying to work. She was creating chaos everywhere. Here are a few examples:
She slapped my computer keyboard, which was on the couch. What I didn’t know was that she’d typed “h-o” in an instant message chat to one of the writers I hired. I had no idea that message was there and apologized profusely when I found out. (The writer said she has three kids and two pets, so she understood why I was so embarrassed.)