I did it; (I can see through his eyes.) I did it. But, I feel like the character from the movie Being John Malkovich, before he got control of John Malkovich, since I can only see through my master’s eyes. I can’t make him do anything. For example, my master opens the fridge and I see slices or chicken breast, a tube of bologna, turkey, ground beef, all in the deli drawer and I try to get him to put all this meat in my dog food bowl. I even give him my sad doggy eyes, but it doesn’t work. I see him take out a glass, put ice from the ice maker into a cup, and pour in some soda. He then puts the soda near the floor, so I can smell it; It smells bad, so I walk away. Then, he goes in the dinette, turns on the TV, and sips his soda.
I like watching TV, because this is the time my master pets me, massages me, kisses me, and this is the time we spend as a family. I look through my master’s eyes and he’s looking at the TV, but his eyes are blurred, since he’s tired. If he was holding a cheeseburger and fell asleep, I could eat the cheeseburger, but I don’t like soda. My master puts the soda down and falls asleep watching TV. He’s been doing this more often.
But, I look through his eyes and he’s dreaming stuff: Daddy stuff. He dreams Mommy is pregnant again, but something goes wrong with Mommy and Daddy takes her into the hospital and they have to do something called a C-Section and then Daddy wakes up. He walks to the fridge again and gets a bottle. He uses this purple plastic opener and pours in into the glass at an angle. He says it tastes better that way. Then he lets me smell it. It smells worse than the soda. Damn it, Daddy, why don’t you get some meat juice?
Then, looking through his eyes, he looks at the time and I wag my tail. It’s almost 11 am. So, looking through his eyes, I see him put on a T-shirt and grab my leash. I wag my tail hard. Once my leash is on, we go outside and I smell the oak tree and another dog has marked his territory here, so I remark it as mine. As we walk along, I see another dog; a girl dog, so I sniff her behind and I like what I smell. I look through my master’s eyes and he’s looking at the clouds, so I mount her and she seems okay with it. Then, even though I’m enjoying it, I take a moment to look through my master’s eyes. Then, her master screams and my master looks at me and thinks, Oh, Crap! That’s interesting. I’ve never been able to read my master’s thoughts before; I’ve just been able to see through his eyes. But, I see him leaning down, trying to separate me and my girlfriend , but he can’t. The woman walking her is upset, too, but I can’t see through her eyes. I finish with her and get off of her.
Then, both humans take out their cell phones and I see my master putting numbers and letters into his cell phone, while the woman walking my girlfriend does the same with her cell phone. Then, my master takes me home. He looks at my treat bag on the counter and looks at me. He decides, since I went to the bathroom outside, to let me have the treat. I wag my tail, scarf it down, and beg for more. I feel him roll his eyes and he puts the treat bag back.
He picks me up and says he hopes I got away with it. Wonder what he means by that. He then turns the TV back on and heads to the fridge. I hope this time he gets some meat.
He gets anchovies and I give him my sad dog eyes and I look through his eyes. He just sees the TV and the anchovies. He doesn’t notice me. So, I make my whining noise to see if he’ll give me some, I look through his eyes and he looks at me and pets me, but doesn’t give me any meat.
Then, after a few hours Mommy comes home and Daddy doesn’t tell her about my girlfriend and what happened. I look through his eyes and he isn’t looking at her face; That’s weird. Then, she goes into the our bedroom and takes off her dress, bra, and underwear, and put what she calls her house clothes on. When her bra comes off, I see Daddy looking at her the way I looked at the dog in the yard. He doesn’t tell Mommy what happened. She comes out of the bedroom in her house clothes and Mommy hugs Daddy (as usual).
I think about my girlfriend and whether or not I’m going to be a dad. Every pup prays he’ll find someone he can share his life with, settle down, and have a litter. Then, we hope our pups will grow and have puppies before we die. To be grandparents; everyone hopes that.
But a few days later, the phone rings and I look through Daddy’s eyes again. He picks up the phone and says, “Hell?” (as usual). Then, there’s a pause and Daddy says, “Yes, I remember . . . “ and then he asks, “Is she pregnant?” and then there’s another long pause and Daddy says, “I’m sorry to hear that. I there anything I can . . .” and again, a long pause and he says goodbye to her. Then, he picks me up and says he has some bad news for me. The dog I mated with and loved was run over by a car and she’s dead. Dogs don’t cry tears when we’re sad, we just whimper and so I did.
I always dreamed of being a father, raising little ones and watching them grow up. Daddy prayed that I wouldn’t, so he wouldn’t have to pay to sell my puppies, but neither4 one of us wanted this. Nobody did. I wondered if she was running toward my house when she escaped. I looked through Dad’s eyes and see teardrops. I’ve never seen Daddy cry before.