Day 7: My human hasn’t left the territory all week. Normally I take first watch of the domain, about eight hours from 9 to 5. I can see it all from the kitchen floor mat, where the sliding glass doors provide the perfect lookout onto enemy lines. I’ve been eyeing one particular grey squirrel for days now.
But this week, I was not alone. My human never left to go do her human things in the outside world. Instead, she stayed and periodically gasped at sounds emanating from the big colorful rectangular box in the living room.
I’m not opposed to the conditions that caused this blissful accident to occur. This week alone, I’ve gotten 10 more ‘good boys’ then normal. I took 17 naps. I got 35 head scratchies and 24 back rubbies. I also got way more walkies in. Just today, I marked seven new spots, adding at least a mile radius to our territory. I don’t know what’s going on, but I plan to find out.
Day 14: I have discovered the reason behind my human’s new home-body habits. Apparently, all humans are taking part in some sort of national bread-baking competition. This week alone my human made four different kinds of bread: banana bread, sour dough, rye and brioche.
Other humans are doing it too. On our walkies I hear my human call out to the neighbors, shouting about bread and how to keep it “moist,” whatever that means. Perhaps it is some sort of code, part of a broader conspiracy to uproot the dog’s life as we know it. I am determined to --squirrel!
Day 21: We went on a hike today. A big one. Oh man. So many trails to sniff! So many squirrels to chase! I also made huge advancements in expanding our property line. And it keeps happening: the walks, the hikes, the fetching. Did I die and go to doggy heaven? If I did, please do not resuscitate. #blessed
Day 28: There’s been a new development in the human world. Apparently “gyms are closed.” From what I understand, a gym is like a human kennel. The humans are always reluctant to go, and they always come back sweaty and underfed.
Now my human has taken to a habit of adorning herself in skintight cloth coverings and willfully contorting her body over what looks like a giant pee-pad. Some of these movements I recognize, like the downward dog and the fire hydrant.
Unfortunately, my human was not impressed when I tried to demonstrate my own leg lifting prowess on the dining room table. She even used the B words on me. The hypocrisy is reprehensible. This was our first fight since the human lockdown began.
Day 35: I’ve forgiven my human for her hypocrisy, because first of all, we played fetch today, and second of all, it seems she has done something extraordinary. I don’t know what humany things she did to deserve such accolades, but the number of gifts she has received in the past week are unbelievable. Every day a new brown package arrives full of goodies. The contents don’t impress me much: what on earth could I do with a Nintendo switch or a Soda Stream?
However, occasionally the gift bearer brings a treat for me in appreciation of my work, knowing I am the sole entity protecting the household and upholding my human’s fragile sanity with intermittent loving licks.
Day 42: Walkies have become less frequent as my human is experiencing increasing difficulty removing herself from her day bed. Every morning she leaves her night bed and shuffles over to the day bed, only to sit there for hours pawing at her little grey box. When she’s not staring at that, she’s taken to staring at me, launching into full length conversations without letting me get a word in edgewise. Other times, she’ll ask me questions that I simply don’t know the answer to, like “Why are you so cute? Have you always been this cute?”
Day 49: All is not well in the human world. I couldn’t find my human for the longest time today. I thought she had left the territory; it would have been the first time in weeks. But instead, I found her eating boiled carbs in the bathtub, howling along to what the humans call “music.”
Water started leaking from her eyes when I nuzzled her hand, and right there and then, she confessed her love to me. “I love you so much buddy,” she said, before gulping down a vat of red juice and continuing to howl.
Day 56: My human has semi-recovered from her leaky-eye episode, as she has picked up a new, yet very strange hobby. In one of her gift boxes came a wooden board, which she laid on the table and adorned with many other small, erect wooden pieces of different shapes and sizes. After staring at the board for a long time, she moves a piece, then walks around the table to the other side of the board and completes the process again.
It’s so cute how the humans can be so entertained by such a simple and repetitive act. I may not understand it, but her enthusiasm shows a palpable zest for life that inspires me every day. It makes me want to be a better dog.
I never discovered why she started staying home, and I suppose I never will. But my love for my human has only grown during our past few months together, as I’ve truly immersed myself in the magic of cross-species friendship.
She would never last on her own in the wild, it’s true. But she doesn’t need to. As long as she’s my human, I’ll give her all the love and care she needs.
