A Dog’s Perspective On New Year’s Day Fireworks
BOOM Crackle POP
NOO! That’s so loud!
I run over to my best friend, trying to communicate with him that the loud noises are frightening and that I want him to stop them, but he just smiles and rubs my head (it feels so good, but still not what I want). Once I feel I have been thoroughly rewarded and calmed after my initial fright, I think that the noises have stopped and begin to lie down at my best friends feet – God bless him, he only has two.
However much to my dismay, the noises start back, and, again, I try to tell my best friend that he needs to stop the noise.
“Hush, buddy, be quiet,” he says, unhelpfully, I might add. He starts to sit up as I continue to bark, and he goes to rub my head again, but I refuse, knowing that if I succumb to his lovely caress I will continue to be bombarded by that dreadfully loud noise. In an attempt to convince that I need his help, I jump and run and cower and do everything I can think of to show that I am scared. He just stands there and looks at me funny.
Why does he not recognize my fear!? That noise is terrifying!
“Buddy, I know the fireworks are scary,” I wonder what fireworks are, “but I cant make them stop. They won’t hurt you though. Everybody is just celebrating the New Year, and that means people do fireworks.” As he stops talking, he looks at me with a pitifully sad face, so I decide to lick him. That always makes his face go back to normal.
“Woah, okay, I get it,” he begins to sit back down and he pats his lap saying, “come on lets cuddle. I’ll keep you safe from the big bad noise. You won’t have anything to worry about. Come on. Come on.”
Since he sounds so convincing, I hurriedly jump into lap, though it feels as if he may have gotten smaller since our last cuddle. As soon as we have settled, another boom goes off, but this time my best friend pets me as I whimper and I feel much safer. So, there we sat throughout the night, moving only to get into the big bed, where I know I am safe and loved, even though the loud noises continue throughout the night.
He even started to take me on more walks as a reward!
A Cat’s Perspective On New Year Resolutions
Slave is late, meaning that my food bowl is only half-full, and my litter box has something in it. She needs to hurry or her punishment will be much more severe than it already is.
Ah! There go her keys in the lock. She comes in looking awfully dirty, and she doesn’t smell very good either; however, that doesn’t matter because my food bowl is about to be filled.
“Hey, baby girl, how was your day?”
I answer in a yawn, trying to demonstrate how bored I am by her lateness and lack of filling my bowl. I don’t believe that she got the message, however, because she walks right past my food bowl. Agh, must she make me wait even longer!? I will most assuredly starve will this imbecile in charge of my house.
She continues to go about her normal routine, excluding my food but including my litterbox (thank heavens). She has just sat down on one of my larger beds, the one that sits in front of the closed box with wires, when I decide that she must be made aware of her mistake. I do so by incessantly calling for her to come to me. She beckons me closer, does she honestly think I want to be anywhere near her right now? I continue my own beckoning, and like always, she stands up and comes to me with her arms outstretched, but I run towards my food bowl before she is able to catch me, and I sit there and tell her just want I think of her forgetfulness.
“Oh, you want some food? Well, I’m sorry, but you’re going on a diet, baby girl. That means I’m only going to fill your food bowl once a day, and you will be getting a maximum of four treats a day.” How could she decide this without consulting me first? I am outraged at this travesty! As if she hasn’t ruined my life enough, she continues, “But don’t worry, because I’m going to start going back to the gym!” In my shocked state, she was able to pick me up and (ugh) cuddle me as she says, “We are going to be two fine girls by the end of this year!”
I won’t live through this year! My slave will starve me to death!
Thank goodness her zeal for her so-called diet ended about two weeks after that day, for if it hadn’t yielded I would probably be dead by now. My slave now returns home at the proper time and fills my food bowl twice a day, as she should. We are both quite happy in our arrangement. Well, I am, but my slave has yet to finish her punishment.
