Talking Pet - 8/17

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RE: Talking Pet - 8/17

Postby farheensmd » Fri Aug 20, 2010 9:34 am

On my 25th birthday it was one of my most stressful and awful day. I thought would it be different if it wasn’t my birthday that day and would I feel differently than. Maybe, yes or maybe, not. I reached home and parked my car. “Thank god it is the end of the day,” I signed.

As I dragged my body out of the car my cell phone started ringing. I picked up my phone and my sister answered, “Hey Riama, can you tell mom I would be late today?” “Sure,” I croaked.

With wandering thoughts in my mind as I opened the door I heard from darkness several voices, “Surprise!” Oh my my actually it was my whole family waiting eagerly for me to celebrate my birthday. And my birthday gift was the most beautiful gift anyone can ever have a white fluffy cat. She had the most pretty eyes and fur like the soft cotton. I bend down and chirped slowly, “Hey, come here on my lap.” She looked scared at first but slowly she moved her feet towards me. We were friends within hours. I decided to name her “snowy” as she had the fur as white as the snow in winter.

It was summer so I decided to teach her to play ball with me. Astonishingly, snowy would never bring me the ball back, instead hide it from me and I would have to find the ball. She would jump on me with joy if I found the ball, that day I realized that animals do think like us. Day after day we started hanging out together from playing little games to watching TV on the sofa. She started sleeping near my head even if I would leave her near her bed.

Whenever I returned frustrated from work and cursed my hot head boss, snowy would quietly sit beside me listening to every word till I cool down. “You know what bosses sucks! Especially, bosses who think that they are Prince of Neverneverland,” I grunted. “Their opinion matters not ours. Snowy those people don’t respect my ideas I feel lonely there.”

Soon I started sharing with snowy all the things which I would want to share from having a fight with my sister to getting a ticket for parking near the fire hydrant. Snowy would rub her body against my leg to show sympathy and make me feel better. I would smile back to her and say “thanks dear.” I knew now that animals have similar feelings like us. They have “true relationships” more faithful and loyal than any other relationship in the world.

It’s almost one year now since I had snowy with me when one day I got a call from California for a new job. A new job “wow” it means I won’t have to drive on snowy Chicago roads with snow storms and all that. I was in a land of fantasy thinking of all the cool places I could go to from water parks to lying on the green grass watching the moving clouds. I immediately replied that I would join the next month. My joy had no boundaries thinking about the face of my hot head boss would be when he knows I am leaving and leaving for good.

I packed my suitcases and put all my important documents into a briefcase that I could take as a carry on. I noticed that Snowy was not having her meals in time. I felt like I had an electric shock in my brain nerves when I thought what would snowy do without me maybe she would get used with my sister. I convinced myself she would definitely adjust with them. The day of my flight I got up hurriedly took shower and as I got ready. I looked around for snowy and found her sitting on my briefcase beside my bed. Her face was down and eyes showed pain. Pain for somebody…. “pain for you of course you idiot,” my subconscious replied me. I could not stand that look and I could not fool myself anymore. I felt the same pain….that pain said that we could not live without each other. I quit my offer for better and I have no regrets for it. A new job offer can come once again but a friend like snowy can never come back.:)

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Re: Talking Pet - 8/17

Postby BrodyH74 » Fri Aug 20, 2010 8:11 pm

I was waking up slowly. The darkness languidly slipping away before my eyes as a swimmer coming to the surface. Lids carefully parting before the bright stream of sunlight hitting my face through a gap in the drawn curtains. Head throbbing, I tried vainly to work some spit into my mouth.

“Well. THAT was stupid.” I started cursing myself for the night before. I knew better than going out with the rest of the crew for drinks after work, but I went anyway. Of course I did. Ann was going out too. Asked if I was planning on it at the start of the day. What did I think was going to happen? A drunken romp with the hot co-worker? What an idiot.

I heard the sound of someone clearing their throat behind me. I whirled around, wondering who DID come back with me to my little apartment last night. The only one there was Josie. The black and white domestic short-hair that my ex had decided to give me sole custody of after she walked out on me. Stupid cat. She was looking at me with a look of judgment on her smug little face. I half expected the little bitch to tisk me and mutter, “pathetic.” But she just sat there on my briefcase, which I seemed to have carried with me all the way to my bedroom and set carefully on a pile of dirty laundry. I carefully sat up in bed, knowing that any sudden movement would send waves of pain coursing through my skull. And that’s when Josie spoke.

“I do hope you’re not going to be entirely useless to me today.”

Against my will, my head turned sharply to face her. The waves crashed down upon me. Clutching my head in my hands I looked around the room, and then at her.

“Did you just…you didn’t…?”

“Talk? Of course I did.”

“But that’s not…uhhh…”

“Possible? I assure you it is. I’ll tell you all about it later. But right now we have more pressing matters to attend to.”

“Pressing matt…WHAT? What the hell are you talking about?”

“I need you to run a few errands for me. I’d take care of them myself, but I’m rather limited in what I can accomplish in that I am as you well know, a cat.”

“Errands? What errands? I can’t run any errands for you. I need to go to work. No…I think I need to go to the hospital or something. I must have passed out and hit my head.”

“You’re right on one count. You ARE going to call in sick today. But you’re going to be coming with me.”

The pain kept ebbing and flowing through my brain pan as I tried to make sense of everything. I was starting to think that this was all actually happening. I’d been holding my head long enough to know that there was no obvious bumps or other injuries. Maybe I was still asleep and having a very vivid dream. Or maybe one of my idiot friends from work had slipped me something and I was hallucinating. Or maybe…just maybe…this was all real.

“Coming with you? Why?”

Josie let out a long sigh like a parent dealing with an imbecile child. “Look, I’m going to explain this in the abridged format as I don’t know how much time we have. First of all, cats can talk. Every last blessed one of us. We always could. Secondly, the whole legend about our having nine lives? It’s true too. And that’s what has brought us to this happy little scene. You see, I’m on my last life. I’d been sitting on number eight for quite awhile but recent unexpected events have brought me to the proverbial end of the line. I’m not happy about it. Not at all. Now I need you to help me.”

“Help you? How?”

The look on Josie’s face changed in a microsecond from one of barely concealed disdain, to something far colder. “You and I are going to look for everyone that is responsible for me losing each of my previous eight lives, and we are going to see that they are punished in kind.”

“You mean that we’re going to kill them?”

I had no idea that it was possible for a cat to roll it’s eyes, but that’s just what Josie did.

“That is exactly what we are going to do. And we are going to start with the landlord’s little brat down the hall.”

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Re: Talking Pet - 8/17

Postby Jess189 » Sat Aug 21, 2010 10:06 pm

“You’re not going to work today.”

Cocking her head to one side, Missy glared at me. I stared back at her. She looked quite serious and held my gaze without blinking. Gingerly I sat up, pushing the covers back with exaggerated movements as though she might pounce at any moment.

Flicking her tail, she curled up in my suitcase and still managed to look down her nose at me even while looking up. Her whiskers twitched, and I blinked. The clock told me I was already five minutes late but that didn’t seem to register in my sleep-deprived mind. I had just been sternly informed I wasn’t going to work. By my cat.

We looked at each other, her elongated yellow eyes waiting in indifference for my reply and my own murky brown gaze squinting, waiting on a revelation.

“poop unicorns and rainbows, not again.”

“Meow,” she answered. I rolled my eyes and climbed out of bed.

“Tom, this isn’t funny,” I told the bedroom. I moved over every inch of the room, examining drapes, checking in drawers, and scouting under the bed.

“What isn’t funny, Mr. Wilkons,” my cat informed me, sitting up and licking one paw, “is the money you still owe me.”

“And you had to mind-control my cat to tell me this?” I dug through the drawer of my night stand. Papers scattered across the floor when I threw them down impatiently. Missy's eyes darted after them, and she stuck out a paw to bat one before sitting at attention again with a jerk.

“I thought it might be more effective. You invented the software, after all. What better way to transmit a secret message to you than through the very device you created?” The voice lowered and the smug, laughing tone dropped away. “I want my money, Matthew. And if a nice leather suitcase with a check for two million isn’t sitting in my office tomorrow morning, I’ll expose all your work and your double-crossing to the Chief. I don’t think he’ll be too pleased to know about that, do you?”

My fingers traced the smooth mahogany bottom of the nightstand and finally fumbled across the tiny bump I was looking for. Pulling out the miniature chip with its tiny etched lines tracing the surface like an advanced super highway, I placed it on the ground and crushed it with the base of the bedside lamp.

My cat seemed to crackle before emitting a burst of static. Shaking her head she rubbed one paw across her ears before prancing over. Purring, she wound herself through my legs, as fluid as ribbon.

“Sorry about that old girl.” I bent down to scratch her ears. She continued to purr, mute from the English language once again.

I scooped up my suitcase and flipped it over. Paper, highlighters, and a small case with my expensive prescription sunglasses toppled into the shaggy carpet.

“Time to hit the road again,” I told Missy. I started chucking the essentials into the suitcase at lightning speed. I didn’t care for this apartment much anyway. Too much sunlight in the mornings. “Guess you were right. I’m not going to work today.”

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RE: Talking Pet - 8/17

Postby monique_892 » Tue Aug 24, 2010 7:51 am

Silas, my striped tabby, sits on my briefcase near the door and tells me “You’re not going to work today.”
I blink. Turn around and look towards the door again.
“No. You’re not going to work today.”
“Yes, that’s what you call me.”
“Silas?” I manage to fluster once again. “When did you? How… What’s going on here?” I ask as I pick him up by the arms and twirl him so I can see his bottom. Surely there’s a recorder nearby or something that’s making him speak.
“Put me down! Of all the… What’s going on is that you’re not going to work today. If you do you will make a foolish mistake and I can not allow that to happen.”
I’ve put Silas down. As he talks I check behind the couch, on the mantle, behind the television. How is this cat talking.
“Look, Alice, sit down. Sit down and let me explain something to you.”
Half because I’m in shock and half because Silas, my striped tabby cat that I’ve had for five years is calmly and rationally ordering me to, I sit down on the couch.
“I know you’ve been thinking about something completely absurd. I know you’ve already begun to act on this silly impulse. And I’m here to stop you from making a fool of yourself and ruining your career.” He sits on the briefcase looking at me directly. This is his ‘serious business’ stance, I know it from when he wants to go outside.
As I continue to contemplate the idea of my cat talking, he prattles on about the silly affair I’ve started. About how he’s had a vision that if the affair continues it will be made public and since the man with whom I’ve chosen to involve myself is high profile, I will lose my job, I will face public scrutiny, and I will have to tell my husband.
“Silas. How do you know about all of this?” I’ve moved beyond the incredulity of my cat talking.
“Well, you brainless nit, you’re not exactly hiding it very well,” as he motions to my phone.
“What in the world are you talking about? There’s no evidence on my phone. I make sure to erase it.”
“Yes, well, that’s all fine and dandy between you and ____ but I know better and so does most of the office. The way your eyes gleam when he’s near you, your heartbeat quickens even he texts you. Oh, it’s enough to make me nauseous.”
“My heartbeat elevates? Really?” By this point I’ve sunk back into the couch. Is it really so obvious that I’m in love with another man? If so, Silas is right, it has got to stop.
“Yes, you pathetic excuse for a wife?”
“Silas, how do you plan on helping me by keeping me home today?”
“Well, most importantly you’d be breaking off that silly date by not going in to work today.”
My date. My date! He’s right. David and I are supposed to go out for drinks today after work. Nothing too serious, easy to pass off, but how long have I anticipated this moment! “Silas, I will not be missing this appointment with David. We have to review for a big presentation.”
“Big presentation my butt. I know what you’ll be reviewing and whether or not it’s big doesn’t matter. You’re not going. Instead you’re taking me to our spot where I will hunt field mice and rather large insects and you will dwell on the things you love most about your husband and those awful vows you said to him. By the way, I still haven’t forgiven you for not including me in the wedding.”
“Silas,” I try to form a sentence. But his concluding thought throws me off a bit. “Silas, I have to go to work today. I have other commitments besides David.”
Silas is already through the air and smothering my shirt with his face and fur. As he’s rubbing on me he makes sure to release his nails just enough to snag a button and a small tear in my skirt as I try to put him on the floor.
“Hmph. So much for that outfit. I didn’t like it anyway. So now that you know I mean business, what will you be packing for me to drink? I really like that new chai you brought home the other day.”

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RE: Talking Pet - 8/17

Postby dgmartin11 » Thu Aug 26, 2010 8:51 am

"Good morning," they say. Sweet, happy voices one male, one female. "Did you sleep ok?" says the male voice, a little richer in tone. My mind doesn't recognize these voices, but I do recognize the distinct smell of my two labs, Nox and Cayanne. Without opening my eyes, I say loudly, "Why are the dogs in the house?" But instead of my husband's response, I hear the female voice answer, "Because we have a surprise for you."

My eyes open with a start, as my heart starts pumping hard and my mind races to find a logical explanation for what I see and hear. Questions piling on top of each other: Is this real?, Am I dreaming?, Am I going crazy?, Where is my husband? and then unexpectedly, I wonder what the surprise is...

I venture a question, not even trusting my own voice and feeling quite silly for asking such a thing out loud for anyone to hear. "Cayanne...Nox..did you just say something?"

Cayanne nods, which I find just as astonishing as if she had spoken the answer. I jump up and stand on the bed looking down and my two dogs, "What's going on here? This is pretty weird guys and I have no idea how to handle this situation..." Nox interrupts me, "Mom, don't be scared. We just wanted to do something special for you and Dad since you are always feeding us, playing with us and taking us on walks. We decided that you shouldn't have to work so hard anymore and we'd take care of you for a little while."

I'm trying desperately to absorb what he has just said while still dealing with the panic, confusion and disbelief that I'm feeling at the same time. I love my dogs. I know they are sweet, loving and wouldn't hurt a fly. But they are talking to me. At least, all of my faculties indicate that's what is going on and that just isn't something I ever been prepared to deal with. I know Nox and Cayanne so well and I've raised them since they were little puppies but now I'm unsure of everything and that makes me feel vulnerable.

At that moment, my husband steps into the room and says, "Honey, it's ok. You're not crazy, they really are talking and they really do want to help us out." "That's right," says Cayanne. "We know that if you take us public, you'll make money, probably a lot." Oh how I love that little girl. She is so cute and naive. And exactly as I had imagined she would be if she could ever talk to us. Nox too, with his comforting, sensible voice and distinguished eyes.

And that's the funny part. My husband and I had always assigned personalities to our pups, even talking to each other in "their" voices. But to have it actually happen?! Still unbelievable — and undeniably wonderful.

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RE: Talking Pet - 8/17

Postby cdjeffries » Thu Aug 26, 2010 3:10 pm

To put it simply, Lucy was ordinary. She lived in an ordinary house, on an ordinary street. She had an ordinary job as a bank teller and came home every night to an ordinary cat. Or so she thought. Her alarm sounded, in its ordinary way at exactly 7am on what she thought was an ordinary Monday morning. In fact, it wasn’t until after she’d showered, did she notice anything at all unusual. Her typically well-behaved cat was sitting upright, looking almost defiant, on top of her freshly pressed blouse and skirt.

“Junior,” she scolded, “off my clothes, now I’m going to have to brush them before I go to work.”
“You won’t be going to work today, Lucy.”
She turned quickly around looking for whoever may have said that, then gave a confused smile to her cat. “I’m hearing things, I could’ve sworn that you actually talked.”
“I did talk, Lucy,” said the cat, “and please, don’t call me ‘Junior’. My proper name is Mme. Claudette Ziffel le Chat. And it’s time I’ve told you the truth.”

“Well that’s just it,” sighed Lucy, “the alarm must not have gone off yet; I’m still sleeping. A good pinch should wake me up.”

“I wouldn’t bother,” Mme. le Chat tried to warn her, but no one ever listens to their dreams anyway.

“Ouch! okay, I guess I’m not dreaming,” Lucy said more to herself than anyone.
“A hallucination, maybe.” She picked up her cat and brushed the shed hair off her clothes. “Hmm, hallucinations, don’t leave their hair lying around. Okay, Junior, er, uh, Madame um, you said you need to tell me the truth?”
Just what the truth could be, Lucy had no earthly idea. She did, however, finally realize that today was definitely not going to be ordinary.

“When I came to you a year ago, I knew this would be a good place to hide. I wanted to tell you for some time now, but I wasn’t sure how you’d take it. I don’t have time to worry about that now, though. I need your help.” Lucy sat in her bathrobe wondering exactly what kind of trouble a cat (a talking cat no less) could be in and how she could possibly be of any help.

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RE: Talking Pet - 8/17

Postby Devina » Thu Aug 26, 2010 3:32 pm

It was not unusual to wake up to that bright blue and white bundle of fluff on my shoulder. The ritual was a comfort in the early morning as the sun came up over the heavily treed hillside out the bedroom windows. Kenta’s squawky efforts of speech were always a delight that drew my attention from sleep to wondering what it was he had to say this morning. Most of the time, interspersed with the garble, a few words or phrases were clear enough to not question. The delight was that they usually seemed so appropriate, even from a tiny parakeet.

This morning was different. He held his beaky little face in his usually quirky tilt as he looked me in the eye with his shiny black bead eyes. Then hopping to my briefcase, he spoke and informed me, “You are not going to work today! And, that’s final! I have it on good authority that it’s too dangerous!”

Jettisoned out of sleepiness, I wondered what was going on. This was too real to be a dream. I knew I was awake, but this couldn’t be true. It had to be the most vivid dream. But, no, it was real. Kenta jumped back to my shoulder and nipped at my ear. At first just a gentle nip, then a firm bite!


“Did you hear me?” he asked loudly.

“Yes, Kenta, I heard you! And, you don’t have to bite me. I’m trying to understand what’s happening here.”

“You must stay home today! I have it from the entire bird community. The warning is out. A disaster is coming. The birds and animals are all aware. If you stay home with me, you will be safe. Besides, you need a break. You’ve been working altogether too hard. You’re seldom home long enough to change my seeds and water. My cage could use a good cleaning, too. What’s going on with that? I feel neglected.”

“Huh? What kind of disaster? Yeah, I do need a break, but a disaster doesn’t sound like a break. I do need to take better care of you, you’re right, Little Buddy. So, what’s about to happen?”

“I don’t know, but the birds know about these things. Just stay home. Okay? Just listen to me, please?”

So, I found myself taking instruction from an eight-year-old parakeet. What’s more, I was aware of a great intelligence under those tiny feathers. It was a little scary, too. I’ve heard that the animals and birds knew certain things like storms and earthquakes would happen before people became aware of them.

“Kenta, is there anything that can stop this disaster? Anything I can do?”

“No. We just have to wait and hope for the best. Do you think you can get up and spend some time with me before it comes?”

“Sure, Kenta. Let me get up and get dressed. Then we can have breakfast and figure out what we can do together.” Now I was consulting him. What next?

After showering and dressing, and breakfasting as usual with Kenta sharing a few pieces from my plate, we had a pleasant conversation. I marveled at his insight into things I thought only concerned humans. His had learned many interesting things from his constant company with the TV and radio. He was quite the little expert on many subjects and eager to talk.

As the day went on, Kenta asked me to read the newspaper, and some poetry. I sang a few songs with the radio and we talked about what birds and animals thought about humans. Kenta expressed his thoughts with the most amazing insight.

When it was about noon, Kenta said, “Let’s have fresh peaches and that whole wheat bread with fresh ground peanut butter for lunch. It’s one of my favorite lunches.”

“I feel some bad changes in the air,” Kenta said afterward. “You better turn off the gas and water, and make things ready for trouble. I think it’s time.”

“Okay,” I said, and soon everything was secured. We were ready.

Around 2:00 PM the rumbling began. The house began to quiver, and then rock. It stopped soon, but not before Kenta gave me the look of a wise old sage. The damage from the shaking was minor. I was glad I listened to him and stayed with him.

He never talked to me again like that, but our friendship took on a greater dimension. It was wonderful to be such close friends with such a wise parakeet.

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Re: Talking Pet - 8/17

Postby jagrova » Mon Sep 13, 2010 1:34 pm

The light streaming in the window wakes me. I roll over and see Hogan sitting on my briefcase looking at me.

"Good morning Hugh."

I squeeze my eyes closed and open them. Did Hogan just speak to me?

"Hugh, we need to talk."

I realize my mouth is hanging open. I close it.

"I have decided you will not be going to work today. You have some taskes to do around the house."

"What do you mean I'm not going to work?"

"If you expect me to continue living here there are changes that need to be made." With that Hogan jumps off the bridfcase and walks out into the hall. He stops and looks back at me.

"Get up. You have a lot to do today."

I swing my legs out of bed and get in a quick stretch. I then follow Hogan out of the bedroom. Hogan walks into the second bedroom or what I like to think is my computer room.

"Where would you take a nap in this room?"

I look around at the computers, computer parts, books about computers, and books about computer languages. I only have one chair in the room that I use when working on my computer.

"That is correct. There is no where to take a nap. No where for me to curl up while you work on that computer for hours. No, no, no this will not do. I require a comfortable place to curl up." With that Hogan leaves the computer room. He turns and walks into the spare bedroom used mostly by my sister when she comes for a visit.

"Hugh, what is this?"

"What? the inflatable bed?"

"I do not like it. It is lumpy and I slide when I jump on it. I have almost slid off the other side more than once. No, no, no this will not do. It must be replaced. I think with a nice double size bed. Also, I have need of a little stand and desk area that can hold a TV, Wii, and a computer."

"You plan on playing the Wii?" I smile at the thought of Hogan bowling.

"No." Hogan rolls his eyes. "Mom on the other hand will need her own TV, Wii, and computer area away from you."


"Yes, we need a place for Mom when she moves in. You will move her in no later than this weekend." With that Hogan turns, walks out and heads towards the family room and kitchen area. I follow in obedience.

"Now Hugh whose idea was it to have windows with such small windowsills?"

"That's the size that came with the house."

"So you did not consider my size when setting up the room? I do not fit on the windowsill. Your loveseat positioned below it is not comfortable for me to sit on to look outside. No, no, no this will not do."

"You can sit at the sliding glass door."

"I can sit on the floor looking outside you say. I, a cat, can simply sit on the floor like a common dog. No, no, no this will not do. This needs to be changed. I require a viewing area by the window." With that Hogan walks to the mud room with me in tow.

"Where is my cat food Hugh?"

"Right there by your water bowl." I point at the dry cat food in its automatic feeder.

"No, that is what I snack on between meals. Where is the meat Mom always gave me?"

"Well, you are living here and you'll eat what I give you."

"No, no, no, this will not do. No, you will provide me with the food I like or I simply will not live here." With that Hogan turns and strolls into the kitchen area.

"These are all things you must change or I will not stay here. I believe you can have all of this done by tonight so you see why you do not have time to go to work." With that Hogan heads for the bedroom.

"What else do you have for me to do back there?"

"Nothing else I need to talk to you about. I now need to take a nap."

My hand slams down on the alarm clock buzzing on the night stand. I look around. Hogan rolls over in bed, looks at me and yawns before curling up for a nap.

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RE: Talking Pet - 8/17

Postby mammamia1803 » Thu Sep 23, 2010 10:52 am


I rolled over in my bed to face my pet, staring at me with his head cocked.

"Time to get up, lazy bones. You have work to get to."

"It's Sunday."

"Oh, well, still, I want someone to play with. So get up, lazy bones."

"Get out of my bed, jack--"

"Bad words are unappreciated in this household."

"And whoever said that?"

"You, after I called you one."

I ignored the comment, got out of bed and sauntered over to my closet. Charlie followed.

"You know, you should really get youself a pair of pajamas or something. The view ain't pretty down here."

"Oh, shut up. If you don't like the view, then leave."

"Really? I can?"

"No. Stay." I snarled, irritated.

"I think you're pretty firm but crazy, my friend. Keeping me as a pet, feeding me that junky wet food...I read the label on the can, and according to the nutrition facts, I've been living on a diet of chicken gizzards and pig fat. Maybe they should run some tests on you or something just to make sure you're stable. Oh, wait, they already HAVE, and you AREN'T!"

I momentarily refrained from selecting clothes and stared at Charlie.

"You, my friend, are a schizophrenic," Charlie continued, "and there ain't NOTHING you can do about it! Except for maybe setting me free. I hear being the world's only talking pet can get you pretty far."

"Charlie, I really don't have time--"

"I'm not done, toad!"

"Toad? Really?"

"Look, the worst part is, the 'talking' part in 'talking pet' isn't the most surprising part. I'm a human. That comes naturally to me. It's the 'pet' part that counts. And I really, REALLY hate wearing this itchy collar and using a LITTERBOX! I should be living like you, with my own house and toilet and food and money! But no, I just HAD to be captured by a psycho!"

"Look, I--"

"STILL not done!"

I grunted, even though I was actually listening to what he had to say.

"I'm going to the local police department tomorrow, and I'm gonna report you. They're going to set me free and put you in an asylum for keeping a human as a dog. And there ain't NOTHING you're gonna do to stop me."

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Re: Talking Pet - 8/17

Postby Lakesideman » Fri Sep 24, 2010 8:27 am


I was stuck in that limbo-like place between dreams and being awake. I could vaguely remember the awesome dream that I was having and wanted to continue but a gruff voice kept calling for me to wake up, kept pulling me into the conscience world.
My eyes opened and when they finally focused I was looking directly at my dog Vader. “Go lay down, Vader.” I mumbled to the Black Lab. “It’s not time to get up yet.”
“You think that lame stuff is gonna work on me Paulie?”
“Who said that?” I called out while sitting up quickly up in bed, my eyes now wide open.
“Who do you think it is, the Easter Bunny?” My dog said to me in perfect English.
“Vader,” I cried in disbelief. “You can talk.”
“You are a sharp one,” Vader replied with sarcasm. “It’s no wonder your species is on the top of the food chain!”
I was about to ask my dog how long he has been able to speak, when he cut me off in mid-sentence.
“Listen up Paulie,” Vader barked. “You’re taking me to the beach today.”
“Oh buddy,” I replied with a smile. “I can’t do that, I have an important meeting today.” Expecting my loyal companion to accept my explanation, I stared to flop back down into my pillow when Vader told me that this was not acceptable and that it was now necessary to do things the hard way. He hopped off the foot of my bed, rooted around on the floor for a minute before hopping back up on the bed with my car keys in his mouth. “Give me my car keys, Vader.” I said to him in an attempt to reassert my dominance.
“You must think that I am the runt of the litter,” the Lab grunted. “You either do this my way or these keys go down the hatch. I hear it’s like $200 to get a new set of these modern style keys.”
He was correct. These new fangled keys with the computer chips embedded in them cost a small fortune to replace. I had to get them out of Vader’s mouth at all costs. This dog had eaten three television remotes, four shoes and an untold number of tennis balls in the past. Keys would not be a problem for him. “How about if I work a half day and then we go down to the park?”
The dog shook his head emphatically. “We are past the park now Paulie,” he replied. “There have been too many un-kept promises. I am nearly thirty-five in people years, I need room to roam and stay in shape. It is either a day at the beach or I have a Honda appetizer.”
The dog had me over a barrel. His drool was getting all over the car remote on the key chain. “Okay,” I finally relented. “We will go to the beach.”
“I want vanilla ice cream too,” Vader said, pressing his advantage to its fullest. “I am not talking about the stuff from that fast food place either; I want it from that little stand near the beach where they put the doggie biscuit in the sundae for you.”
“I let out a sigh of exasperation. “Is there anything else?”
“Nope that ought to do it,” Vader said in a satisfied tone. “It was a pleasure doing business with you. The keys will be waiting for you in the kitchen; don’t dawdle when you’re getting ready because I will be waiting.”
“Yes master,” I said quietly once Vader was up the hall and out of earshot. I then turned and headed into the bathroom to dutifully get ready for a day at the beach.


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