They said it would happen one day. I can’t say I hadn’t been warned.
How many times have I been told that they’re fed up with my incessant barking, that I shouldn’t go mental every time I see a cat? Or a mouse? Or a lizard? Or a bird? Or a frog? Or next door’s bloody spaniel pup? Or a car driving past our front gate? Or someone walking near our gate?
How often have they shouted at me for digging holes in the garden? I mean… why? I’m only trying to find the moles or whatever it is makes those mounds. And why shouldn’t I use their veggie patch as a toilet? What else is it for? It’s not as if they’re going to eat any of that damned stuff, is it?
But they don’t like me doing it, and they’ve said so more times than I can remember; so I suppose it’s my own fault.
But now they’ve gone, and they’ve left me here on my own.
I suppose I still have to guard the place, which is why I’m sitting in this… whatever it is I’m sitting in. Gives me extra height so I can see farther. Yes, I know it doesn’t raise me much, but with legs as short as mine, I’m probably twice as high sitting here as I would be on the ground. This is where I sit to guard the gate. That’s my job. And to wait for that nice lady who comes in the white van and brings my food, of course, but that’s for pleasure. Everything else is business; serious business.
You’d think they’d be grateful, wouldn’t you? Thirteen years I’ve been sitting here, keeping away anyone who might be aiming to come in and kill my humans. A lifetime of guaranteeing their safety. And it works. No-one has been killed on my watch. But all they can see is that I’m barking. In all that time, have they ever once asked me why I bark when I do? No, they haven’t. If they had, they’d have understood what I’m here for, what my job is, what I must do to ensure no harm comes to them.
It’s too late now, of course. They’ve gone. And this time, I don’t think they’re—
What’s that I hear?
MUMMY, DADDY – YOU’RE HOME!
This was written in response to Kreative Kue 216 published on this site.