It was a dark and stormy night and DJ was whining for a walk. I did my best to ignore his canine kvetching; the force of gravity pulled me deep into the couch like an astronaut on liftoff.
As hard as I tried, I couldn't get DJ to leave me alone. Same with my wife. If there's one thing she hates more than doggy doo on the kitchen floor, it's seeing me zombied out on the couch. She nipped at my feet and barked, "Walk the dog! Now!"
DJ trotted towards me smirking like a Siberian husky at a sled-dog bachelor party. He dropped his leash on my rumbling tummy and said, "Listen to your wife."
"I always do," I replied, "unless I can get away with it, which is never."
Suddenly it occurred to me that either (A) I was hearing voices, or (B) my dog talks.
Or maybe both?
I sighed and with a Herculean effort, rolled off the couch, landing with a splat headfirst into my bucket of black bean crab dip.
I cursed the cruelty of Life, that Fortune would have me walking the dog when I should be lying semi-comatose on the sagging sofa. Getting off the couch: yet another dreaded snippet of life -- like Monday mornings, airport bathrooms, or farting on a first date..
I whimpered, longing for the old Rockwellian days of irresponsible dog ownership; when we'd let our pooches prowl freely around the neighborhood -- scaring seniors, traumatizing toddlers, dropping logs on manicured lawns.
A time of innocence
Without consequence
And what a time it was
It was it was it was
I summoned the strength from deep within (and I can assure you that it's not a deep reservoir). I threw on a hoodie, leashed up my annoying terrier, and marched out to brave the elements, blubbering like a little bitch.
Fortunately, laziness rescued me on that particular night. Rather than facing the storm head-on, I made a mad dash toward the school across the street which has a sheltered alcove where I could seek refuge from the tempestuous downpour.
I let DJ wander off and do his thing; he was totally oblivious to the rain. I sat on a bench in the alcove and watched the rain pour down, listening to the sounds of the rain pelting down, the crash of thunder, and the rustling of the trees. I sat there transfixed by storm, in deep meditation. When DJ had enough exploring he sauntered back, and licked me on the face, (something I abhor).
DJ enjoyed his exploration time at the school so much that now he pesters me to take him there every night, seemingly always when I'm in peak comfort mode.
What choice do I have?
And so it came to pass that DJ, the cunning canine, had successfully transformed me into his reluctant accomplice in nightly expeditions to the school. No longer can I revel in the sweet embrace of my couch; instead, I find myself trudging along the streets late at night, my once-prized laziness fading into a distant memory. I can't help but wonder if this is my divine punishment for all those stolen naps and countless hours spent in sedentary bliss.
Oh, the irony! I had sought solace in the companionship of a dog, only to find myself traipsing around the same old playground night after night. DJ has turned the tables on me, the once indolent couch potato. Now I am but a pawn in his grand scheme of nocturnal amusement. I just can't help but chuckle at the absurdity of it all. After all, isn't life just a series of unexpected punchlines delivered by the universe itself?