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I found my PDA, it was in the attic in a chest without a lock. So, I plugged it in and waited. When the bar got past 80 percent, I logged in and went to a website where I could meet a date. Someone who wants to settle down, get married, have some babies, the usual. So, I went to a dating website where the website had me fill out a survey:
- How old are you?
Well, 4 times 7 is 28 so I write, “28”
- Do you smoke?
No
- Do you drink?
Yes
How often?
I drink water all day
- What’s your religion?
Hmm, (I think). I’m Autotheistic.
How important is this to you?
Extremely
- Would you be willing to to date someone outside your religion?
Yes
How far are you willing to travel to meet someone?
A billion miles.
- What’s your annual income?
I’d prefer not to say.
- Do you own a pet?
Hmm. That’s tough because I am a pet. I’m the pet. I guess I’ll say, “yes” though, since the humans are my pet.
Dog, cat, or other?
Other
It asks a bunch of other questions which I answer, then the website says, “Please look over this information for mistakes and push, “Edit” to correct. I look it over and it looks good. I put in my credit card number and hit, “Submit”. There, now I just sit back and wait for the girl of my dreams to click on my profile. I wait. Then, something amazing happens: A twenty-three year old named Roberta sends me a message:
“You sound cute. What do you do for a living?”
I think. What DO I do for a living. Nothing yet, but when I get into one of those Graduate Schools, I’m going to be a lawyer. So I text Roberta I’m a student applying to Law Schools. I ask her what she does. She says she’s an Administrative Assistant. I’m not sure what that means, but I’m on my way to living in my own home. We chat. She sounds less restrictive than my current family.
So, I finish my texting on my PDA with Roberta and she wishes me a good night’s sleep. I tell her, “Good night”. Then, I shut off the PDA and put it back in the chess. At least it’s charged now. But, I’m going to stay with Roberta.
*
The family I’m with doesn’t suspect anything. There’s an entrance to the attic they don’t know about. Besides, the three kids’ll move out, get jobs, and get married, so why not me? I know I’m a dog, but so what? I deserve to have dreams, too.
My current family has their supper and I get the usual: Dog food and water. The same dog food; the same food. I wonder what Roberta’s eating tonight. Imagine us both eating full bowls of chicken soup on a white cloths, drinking gravy.
Everyone in this family finishes their meals and Daddy cleans the plates. I wish I was the pre-rinse cycle. But this family tells me that wouldn’t be sanitary. Then, they wash up one person at a time, put on their PJs, and go to sleep, but I can’t fall asleep, because I keep thinking about Roberta and my freedom.
So, I hop out of bed and jimmy the door open, close it behind me, and head up to the attic and the PDA. I get it out of the chest and turn it on. I hope the family stays asleep. I open it up and look at the website. She’s online and active. I write her, “Hi”.
She writes back, “Hi, Sweetie. You’re up late. How are you?”
I write back, “I’m good. I miss you and want to meet somewhere.”
For a minute, there’s no response. What’s she thinking. Will my current owners like her? Will she like them? She isn’t typing. Maybe she had to get a snack or go potty, or something. Why isn’t she typing?
Then she does type: “I’d like to get to know you more as a friend before we go further. Let’s talk more, so we can find out if we’re even into the same stuff. Me, I like snowboarding, surfing, karaoke, I drink socially, dancing at clubs. How about you? What’re you into?”
I think. I want to make a good impression, so I type back, “I like dog parks, running, eating chicken, sitting on the couch, watching movies, I like surfing the internet, and sun bathing.”
Then, we chat for hour-an-hour and I tell Roberta I’m tired. She texts me “Good night” and sends a heart emoji.
I shut my PDA off, put the PDA back in the chest, shut off the light, and sneak out of the attic. Sneaking back into the room where I slept is harder than sneaking out. I have a hanger in the kitchen in the fleshich drawer (they never use this drawer), and I put the hanger in my mouth, go to the bedroom, and pull the door handle (with the hanger) while pushing the door with my nose. I’m in. Then, with the door open, I return the hanger to the fleshich drawer, shut the silverware drawer, and go back to the bedroom. The door’s still open. I go in and shut the door with my nose.
I use books on the floor as a step stool to get on the bed. I go to the foot of the bed, curl up in a ball, and go to sleep. I know my current owners’ll wake me up in a few hours, but Roberta’s worth it.
*
I am woken up by a leash being clipped on my collar and Havana lifting me off her bed. I’m taken outside where I go potty on an oak tree. We go in and I get a treat, as usual. I then go on my doggy bed by the radiator and sleep for three hours. My current family has lunch, but doesn’t save any scraps for me. I get three more walks during the day and am taken into Bob’s room.
Bob snores. Once I hear his snores, I sneak out and go back to the attic. I get the PDA out and log into the dating website. She’s on the website. I type in: “Hello, Roberta. Wanna chat?” She quickly replies back, “Yes”. And we chat about where each of us hope to be in five years. I tell her I hope to have my own home and a car. She says she wants to be out of debt. I haven’t heard of that city, but hope it’s near. She then asks if I can change my settings on the dating website so it’ll share my location. I tell her “Sure,” and I do. Then, it turns out, we’re close to each other and she asks if I can come over there. She says if things go well, we could spend the night together. But I haven’t told her something. She doesn’t know I’m a dog. So, I say “I’m coming over. But, can you keep a secret?”
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