Thinking About My Humdog

It’s a sunny February morning. I’m laying on the front porch and thinking of my big sister humdog. She has been gone for a while now. I hear other humdogs in the house murmuring “things are opening up”, “people are migrating to their work cities”. If my big sister humdog has migrated somewhere then it’s a cause of howl. I wish to hear her voice. The days when she would call me out to go upstairs. Not to her room though, up above to the terrace. She tricked me by not taking me to the terrace many times. She would pick me up the first step, take me to the last step and enter into her own room. For the times when she climbed us up to the second staircase and then to the terrace, I would sniff around the green dusty leaves & she would stay glued to a flashy rectangular device. She hardly talked to any other humdog in the house. But a lot over the same flashy rectangular device. It was exhausting, really. I had to bark till my throat hurt so she would stop talking. One day, to stop me from barking she picked and tossed me in the air and it scared the bejesus out of me. I bit her out of spite. And the voice that came out of her was monstrous. Man, my biting skills should be a part of some Biting Dog Hall of Fame. She still has the marks from it. Its picture could be put as a proof below my name, you know, at the Biting Dog Hall of Fame.

If I ignore her sloppy kisses and constant cuddling that leave me befuddled for a moment — she is an alright humdog. She used to check up on me when everyone else in the house disappeared during the morning. She fed me, scratched me, and…