Wednesdays with Winston

I hear there’s a scruffy faced nerf herder in San Francisco who does a weekly Facebook post about life with his biped, called Fridays with Freddy.  The biped is some guy named Mick Rodeo? Mitch Rolo?  Mike Rowe?  Somethun’ like that.  I ain’t never heard of the guy, but I figured Freddy and me have a lot in common besides our stunning good looks and the bipeds  I got saddled with sure do provide a whole lotta writing material.  So why not?  Thanks for the idea Freddy, here’s the very first Wednesdays with Winston.

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Today has been much more thrilling than my usual Wednesday.  Heh.  I must say, I really kicked it up a notch.  But do the bipeds appreciate it?  Not like they should, so I am forced to seek an audience on the web.  That’d be you.  Prepare to bask in my glory, because today was a doozie.

I started off the morning in a truly spectacular battle of wits and bravery with an invading enemy of the feline variety.  See, I have a couple felines in my garage.  The biped lets me go in and play with them on occasion.  The male cat just sits there like a bump on a long while I give it allllll the right signals.  I wag my tail, I assume the “wanna play” position, perk up my ears and bounce around.  What do I get for my trouble?  Nuthin’.  Then, the cat just walks away and hides under a chair.  How rude can you get?  That just gets my goat, and I start barking.  The biped doesn’t approve and I get taken out of the garage at that point.

The other feline, the female, well, she’s even more rude.  I swear, try to give a lady a compliment and what do you get in return?  A slap in the face, hissed at, and growled at.  I’m not giving up though, I know those guys LOVE me and want to play.  We’re gonna have fun if it kills us.

This morning THE BEST THING EVER happened and I found another feline!  It was out in the giant grassy toilet behind the house, and it wanted to play hide and seek.  With me!  I’m not one to turn down an invitation and don’t mind being ‘it’, so I sought.  Our game led us around the spa and we spent a good long time under the deck.  I’d bark. The feline would hiss and swat at me.  I’d bark some more.  Then there was yelling and stomping on top of the deck.  It’s soooo hard to have a good game of hide and seek when someone is stomping around over your head, but I managed.

Then there was a game changer and someone opened the flood gates.  Water was shooting all over under that deck. What is this, the Hunger Games?  I wasn’t going to let it slow me down, but that cat was such a weenie, which is ironic, considering I’m the wiener dog. It went racing out from under the deck and tried to hide in a stack of firewood.  I’m sure it’s still there.  I’ve been going back to check the firewood ever 3 minutes or so, which is extra fun, because it means I get to climb.  I kill two birds with one stone, playing Hide & Seek AND King of the Mountain.  The yelling gets to me, though.  the biped is all, “No!  Winston!  Down!  Down, Winston!”  I appease her by getting down and wait until her back is turned.  It’s always best so humor the bipeds, since they’re the ones who fill my food bowl.

I needed a little rest after all that early morning cardio and I like to spending my down time under my biped’s desk.  It’s a great place to root around for a missed pieces of popcorn, engage in some extended licking of my nether regions, and best of all, it smells like feet.   Mostly because, I’m laying next to feet.  But this arrangement doesn’t completely meet all my needs.  There’s these annoying cords, see, and they move around when my biped is going tippy tappy on the humming machine.  I’m a proactive kinda guy, so I took care of it.  I chewed through the offending cord.  Problem solved… that’s when the cursing started.  My poor young ears!  Yowza!  You kiss your kid with that mouth?  I mean, sure, I lick my non-existent balls whenever the mood is right, so I guess I don’t have room to talk, but sheesh.  All this fuss over what?  I fixed it!

Then, wouldn’t you know, once the ranting stopped, there was ANOTHER cord invading my personal space.  I waited a bit.  Tried to ignore it, like they tell you do with bullies.  I did some deep breathing and meditation and did my best to coexist, but in the end I just couldn’t hack it, so I chewed through THAT cord.  And one more just to show I mean business.   Again with the cussing! What is up with all this drama?  Can’t a dog just get a little peace and quiet?

Then the biped did something I really don’t like… she left me alone.  Thankfully, I didn’t have to bide my time in the plastic box, but I still hate being alone.  That really freaks me out.  What if they don’t come back?  Who am I going to sleep with?  Who will feed me?  Whose shoes am I going to steal and take out into the giant grassy toilet area?  Just when I have come to the conclusion it’s the End Times and they’ve all died, by biped returns.  Oh happy days!  I tell you, that really gets me goin’.  I’m so happy I just gotta bite something.  Usually a pant leg, or shirt sleeve if I can jump high enough.

Wouldn’t you know it, the biped brought home MORE cords to string around in my den.  The she kicked me out of my own den and moved me next door to what was previously a perfect dog condo.  Now, no condo, but I do get to keep the blanket.

But my day’s adventures didn’t stop there.  Oh no, it got better, because there was FOOD.  Delicious, sweet treats.  I know the biped likes to play a little game with me and puts the treats up high, but I love this game and the pay off is great.  This time, especially.  I scored some Twizzlers.  Oh yeahhhhhhhhhhh.  I’ll probably pay for that tomorrow when Montezuma’s Revenge hits, but it was so worth it.

I tell ya, this day has been exhausting and I’m ready to hit the hay.  I know I’m gonna feel an urgent need to take a piss at 1 am, so I better get in a little nap in before then.  And maybe I’ll take one more trip around the grassy toilet area just to make sure my new feline friend hasn’t come back to play.  One can only hope.

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