In Honor of Snoopy

“Never leave your dog alone and uncrated in the basement. You’ll be sorry.” - Janice

It was a dark and stormy night. Thunder roared, crashed and grumbled with anger. Lightning thrashed, dancing jiggle-jagged lines across the sky. Rain cascaded until it looked like the very air itself had become water. I was so afraid.

I ran from my usually splendorous doghouse to the door of the family. I howled-barked-scratched-cried, until my large-headed-boy brother opened the door with sleep-lidded eyes and let me into the basement.

“Okay, Snoopy,” he said. “You can stay down here but you have to be quiet. Mom doesn’t want you in the house.”

I gave him a grateful look and shook myself until the heaviest of the wetness was gone from me. But then Bighead was wet, too. He said, “Oh Good Grief,” and mumbled something that sounded angry and insulting as he walked up the stairs and into the house.

Sorry, I thought but couldn’t say.

It felt safe in there and I was so glad to be someplace dry. The booming and crashing were locked outside and I hoped the door was strong enough to keep it that way. I thought, It’s been a long time since I’ve been allowed down here. Looks like there’s lots of new stuff to play with. Oh boy! This could be fun!

I first sniffed out a plastic cage with no top. It sort of looked like a giant milk crate. I thought the idea of a cage with no top was kind of dumb, but my humans are strange. It’s hard to figure them out sometimes. Anyway, the cage was filled with flat, square things covered in strange designs. They smelled strongly of the father human, so they must have been something good. He always has good stuff. I nuzzled in and grabbed one. It was dry, and sort of thin and chewy on the outside, but inside, something cracked and pieces of shiny black vinyl spilled out. The vinyl smelled strongly of the father human, too. I remember now. The father called them ab, umm… oh yeah, albums.

What could be so good about these things? I tried to eat one and it didn’t taste like much. I crunched it and it broke into sharp little pieces. Blech! I spit that out. But I kept chomping through all of them, trying to find a good one to no avail. What a waste of time. Humans are very, very strange.

Next, I sniffed out a familiar looking thing on three legs that the father used to make food with outdoors. In fact, it smelled a bit like food. I stood up on my hind legs and pushed the thing over. It made a lot of noise and I ran for cover. Peeking out from behind a box, I watched it. It seemed to settle down and nothing bad happened, so I crept up to it. Lots of ashes had sprayed out with some nuggets of stuff that I’m pretty sure used to be very hot. I think they called it char or something like that, but as I stepped cautiously through the ash, nothing burned.

Then, as I stepped into the cooking thing I found joy! There was tasty, sticky stuff all around the inside. I licked off all I could, until my tongue began to feel terribly dry and powdery.

I really needed some water. Oh, even my throat felt dry and powdery. As I was coughing and hacking my way over to the big sink where I get my B…A…T…H, I passed a mirror. What I saw scared me so badly that I jumped and made a little yip! I wasn’t my normal handsome, dapper self. I had gray stuff all over my beautiful coat. I looked like I had been dragged along a dusty road and left for dead. I shook myself from head to tail and a powdery cloud rose in the air.

That’s a little better, I thought. Best I can do for now, then I sneezed.

Continuing my way to the B…A…T…H sink, I hopped up on an old kitchen chair next to it and peeked down inside. It was like a dream come true. There was a giant bowl of water in there! I quickly scrabbled into the sink, stepping into the water and drank my fill. Then I noticed that it tasted soapy. Ack!

I decided I’d had enough fun for one night. Time for bed. Sniffing around for a good spot, I came across a box that smelled like that mean Lucy girl-human down the block. Why is her smell here, I thought. It smelled like some of her clothing. I couldn’t sleep there. It would give me nightmares. I then found another box that smelled like my large-headed brother human, Charlie Brown. Ah… the smell of comfort. I chewed the box open and a large pile of soft, brother-smelling clothes poured out. Don’t know why humans insist on covering themselves with cloth, but I was glad for the softness. I rolled around on the clothes, trying to dry the mud from my fur, then I pawed out more clean, dry clothes to sleep on.

Oh so nice… What a fun night.

(Sigh) Zzzzz