Hey! Hey! Hey! HeyHey!

Sorry. Sometimes I just bark like that to get attention. Just like rolling on my back and bicycle-kicking my legs up in the air, despite the fact that I'm in what they call my "golden years". Sure, it hurts a little when my bony back hits the floor and I squirm my atrophied hips from side so side.. but it hurts so goooooood when I can scratch just the right spot as I roll on that carpet.

Anyway, yeah. Did she tell you what she did yesterday? I had to feed myself. 14 damned years old, and I had to get my own goddamned dinner. I don't know what she does when she's gone. Most of the time, truth be told, I sleep. I can't help but be happy when she comes home, though, even though I had to feed myself. Did I tell you about that? Yeah. Damndest thing.

Anyway, she comes home with the best smells on her boots and pants. Sometimes, it's like she's been dragging those boot soles through a butcher shop, or something. I don't know where she goes to get those great smells and tastes on those shoes, but I wish I could go just once. First thing she does is take those boots off her paws. Then she removes the clothes with so many smells, puts them into the big box that goes swuusshhhh, swuushhhh, clank, fshhhhhhh, and they come back out without all those smells. She puts on the clothes that smell like our den, and that's when I start my show.

I throw myself all over the room where our beds are... rolling on my back, exclaiming in joy and camaraderie. She seems to enjoy this, because she laughs and scratches my belly and calls me My Ol' Bimbo... whatever that means. It is some sort of notation of respect, that I do know. Anyway, when I tire of rolling, I run back and forth across that room and I feel young again. When I pick up that big soft square that smells like me and shake it, it's like I am transported back to my youth. Days when my hips didn't crack with each move and I could walk in a straight line, without using my tail for balance. Days when I could go for a Ride In The Car without wanting to throw up or crap myself. Yep. Those were the days.

But these days are good ones, too. Not hearing those loud booms outside when it rains... I don't miss those. And those loud noises during the summer nights during that one week? Those were scary. I remember being drugged high off my ass, just so I wouldn't care so much about the noises. They still scared me; I was just too fucked up to knock stuff over or crap on the floor. But these days, I don't even notice them. I don't have to sleep on the floor if I don't want to. Who's going to tell a lady of my age and stature to get down from that comfy thing she gets to sleep on? Certainly not her. Most times, when she sees me there she tiptoes in and curls up behind me, careful not to disturb my sleep. But even at my age, I can tell when the smells from the world outside enter my home, and I look up, and there she is.. lying behind me with her arm over my side, scratching my belly in just the right spot.

Yeah.. I had to feed myself yesterday, did I tell you that? Sheesh.

But it's not a bad life.