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Diary of a Mad Black Weiner Dog

A Dramatic Reading (think David Caruso in “Jade”)

Saturday, December 6 (at least I think it’s Saturday…I have no concept of time)

The people have left me again. I thought I had adequately expressed my desire that they not leave again the last time they came back from a prolonged departure. When they returned, I showered them with appreciation and pee. I licked their faces incessantly like they were giant, leftover bones from a spiral sliced ham left carelessly in the trash can. I must have gotten the less intelligent people. Oh yes — they have left me again.

I do not like this bathroom. The floor is hard and cold and the woman has removed the delightful snack bucket usually sitting next to the giant, porcelain water bowl. No — I do not like this bathroom.

I should have known this day would not be a good one. The man was not here last night and the evil little one who squeezes me and attempts to make me walk on two legs crawled into bed with the woman. I allowed her a small space on the man’s side of the bed, but only because I was attempting to sleep a bit longer before I was expelled from my warm, cozy cocoon and forced to poop and pee in the cold, wet grass behind the house.

To add insult to injury, the small evil one and the medium sized one with the white strings hanging out of his ears constantly did not wake up and complain about their breakfast and argue with each other as they do on most mornings. Alas, it must be the weekend. And since the woman got in the shower instead of sitting down to make clicking sounds on the grey box with the white face, I knew that I would be in this bathroom for a long time.

I will protest their leaving as I normally do. I will refuse to eat from the orange bowl. For now, I will chew on the side of my bed for several minutes before taking a nap.

(Dog awakes from nap: time elapsed, unknown; they have no concept of time.)

What is this? It is long past the time when I need to pee and poop again! Where are those people? Now I am angry! How can I show them my disdain? (Sees heavy terrycloth bathrobe hanging from a hook on the bathroom door.) I will show them not to keep me locked up in this little dungeon! (Begins tearing apart bathrobe.) That will make them open this door! Where are those stupid people?

(Sound of the garage door opening.) Well, finally! Let me begin barking incessantly. Here they come; here they come. Hello…huh? Why is the dark haired man who talks a lot and plays the guitar here instead of my people? Oh, never mind. I like him anyway. I will lightly sprinkle his leg with pee as is my customary greeting. Oh, thank you, thank you! Let me wiggle as much as possible while you attempt to put a leash on me! Hurry up now before I embarrass myself. (Dog and man race out of house, take a walk and take care of business. Returns to house.)

So, will you be staying until my people come back? Where is the rest of your pack? Your little one is not nearly as evil as my people’s little one. Your welcome. Whoa, why are we going back towards the bathroom? Don’t you need to use the Internet connection or something? How about a quick game of Wii? Oh, come ON! (Man puts dog back in bathroom.)

Now I am very angry, but talky guy took away my giant red chew toy. Curses! Where is that cat? Perhaps I can entice him to stick his arm under the door so I can bite him. (Dog begins to whimper.) No? Bummer… I hate that cat.

(Dog chews on bed until its outer rim is completely soaked in dog slobber.)

Okay. I give up. I’m just going to sleep. Perhaps I’ll dream of ways to avenge this false imprisonment. Zzzzzzzzzzzzz…

(Sound of garage door. Dog awakens to find it is completely dark outside.)

Well IT’S ABOUT TIME!!! I suppose I will forgive them again just this once. I AM actually very happy they are home (even the evil little one). Here I am! Here I am! Come let me out!

Note to self: For the next several days, take an inordinate amount of time to “do you business” outside, especially when the people seem to be in a hurry. Also, pee on one of the throw pillows in the family room. Of course, this goes without saying, but don’t forget to poop in the dining room. Mwha, ha, ha, ha!

Sincerely yours,

Buddy Love

Editor’s Note: A special thanks to Beth, whose post Ceiling Fan: A Love Letter was the inspiration for this post. Also, thanks to my rude but loveable dog, Buddy.