The Dog's POV

POV is point of view, for you non-writerly types. Yesterday the dog celebrated his 12th birthday (he was a Thanksgiving Puppy). Here's his take on it:

8AM: I woke to children pressing their faces in mine and singing this horrid song. Then THE ONE I WORSHIP joined in--I can never fault her for bad singing--but it definitely made me thankful I am losing my hearing.

9AM: More off-key singing. THE ONE I WORSHIP fed me bones to ward off the headache brewing in my skull. I went out to escape the tone-deaf children. Dammit, it's raining out, so there's not a single squirrel to chase and now my butt is wet. And to make me more miserable, the yellow-bus-thing isn't coming. THE ONE I WORSHIP said so. :::sigh::: Back inside.

Noon: I have napped, dreamed of rabbits, and was woken by THE ONE'S mate to be petted. I think there's a conspiracy afoot.

3:00 The Yellow-bus-thing isn't coming to deliver the children because they are still here. Singing. To me. ::sigh::: If I were a bad dog, I would rip their vocal cords from their throat but THE ONE loves them for some reason. I must stay on THE ONE'S good side. I will accept bones from the children.

5:00 THANK my lucky paws, they are all leaving and going to that place called 'grandma's'. Though I like GRANDMA's because there is catfood and other delights, I am glad I don't have to go out into the rain and listen to more singing.

8:00 They have returned. The pups are going to bed, and no one is singing. They must have gotten it out of their systems at Grandma's. Grandma has lots of squirrels to chase. Maybe they did that. THE ONE has sat next to me and told me a story. I liked the petting and cuddling, though I have no idea what she was talking about. Even THE ONE'S mate seems happy. THE ONE has promised me a WALK!, but I think she means tomorrow. I'm tired, anyway.