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General

    It’s spring and my new master is Insane (that’s his name) and insane (his mental state). My name is Ralphy and I am a pure bred, grade A, male, unneutered chihuahua.  At my old home, I won first prize four years in a row as a toy dog in the annual dog show.  Then, as happens with winners who are getting older, I got sold.  This is normal.  Usually we’re sold so we can mate with females, with similar characteristics, so we can make puppies, which can be sold for a lot of money.  I could be a proud father and settle down with a wife for the years of my retirement.  No more daily baths, nail clippings, no running, or examining my legs and other body parts, just a home, with a loving master.  Is that so much to ask?   But, I got adopted by Insane and it’s spring, so out comes the rope and the freaking plow.  A miniature plow for my miniature body.   Oy.  I should be touring, having my picture taken. But it’s 6 am and I already know it’s going to be a hot day.  I can feel it in my skin.  

    So, I’ve had my morning walk, gone potty, and gotten a dry, old treat that I decided to hide, so I didn’t have to eat it.  (It was expired.). So, it starts.  My master uses a motivator, which is a small iron twirly stick, to hit my prize behind (my butt), so I’ll go forward and plow his field.  After fifteen minutes, I pant, but there’s no water from my master and no puddles on the ground to lick.  So, I tough it out and keep going forward.

    Then, the plow thing that goes around my shoulders slips off and I walk forward with relief.   But, Insane catches me and puts the straps back on.   Imagine a thirteen-year-old being measured for a bra and putting on a bra three numbers and two letters too big.  That’s how the plow straps feels on me.   So, after I slip out five times, Insane puts paper clips in the plow straps and it fits betters and is less painful.  Then, I plow and I’m tired.  

     Then the plow hit something and stops.  I push as hard as my little legs will let me, but it won’t move and I’m expecting a hard whipping from my master, but instead he says, “What in the heck is that?”  He looks at me and the plow and says, “Dang Nab It!!   What’s in the ground this year?”   He sighs and orders me to stay while he fetches the shovel.  Good, let him go fetch something.  

     I think of running away, but the plow won’t move, forwards or backwards.  So, I sit and wait in the sun.   My master gets back with the shovel and digs around me.  Then, he unties me and puts me in his red wheelbarrow, which I won’t jump out of, ‘cause what if I break my legs?   So, I’m stuck.   I’m stuck.  

      Then he finds some huge thing he can’t identify in the hole but somehow, after fetching a rope (at least I didn’t have to fetch it), he gets the rope under this thing in the hole, ties the ends of the rope to the loop where my leash is supposed to go, and tells me to pull it out.  Right.  Insane should’ve spent the money he spent on me on a mule.  I’m not a mule.  I’m a chihuahua. Then, I hear him say, “Mush,” and he hits my hinny with the motivator and I try to make it move, but it’s too big or I’m too small.   It won’t budge.   So, after fifteen minutes of the motivator, he gets a bulldozer, unties me, and I go back in the wheelbarrow.   I hate spring.  

      But, I then I remember if/when these plants grow, pollinate, and bear fruit, Insane will get this wheelbarrow back and I’ll be pulling it while he collects fruits and vegetables.  Imagine pushing lead up a hill and the lead gets heavier as you climb.  That’s the best way to describe it, but right now, I’m waiting for his bulldozer to pull whatever this thing that’s in his field is out of the ground.  Well, one tug and it’s out, whatever it is.  I look at it, the huge rock, but it looks white and rough.  I hope he doesn’t make me haul that in the wheelbarrow.  Please let him just throw it out.  Just throw it out. 

*

    But, he doesn’t throw it out, but calls a local Geometry Professor to figure out what it is.   But, unfortunately, while we’re waiting for the Professor, my master decides to have me plow beyond the hole, because, “Time is money”.   So, I pull and I pant and pant and pull. It’s almost two pm and I haven’t gotten through one half of this row.   I’m just a chihuahua.  

      Then, this Geometry Teacher comes with tools and I get to stop pulling while they figure out what this rock is.   The man, named Bob, uses a hammer and a chisel.   He takes out part of the outside of the rock and looks at the rock through a magnifying glass.   Bob says Bob could be mistaken, but Bob thinks it’s a diamond in the rough.  If Insane takes it to the local jeweler, Insane could sell it for a lot of money.  

       Now, Insane owns a carriage, so Bob and Insane haul this diamond into the carriage and then I hear it:   Bob asks, “Where’s your horse?” and Insane looks at me and smiles.  

 *

      Insane bought a chihuahua-sized muzzle at a local pet store.  I try to escape when I see Insane coming, but it’s useless.   Insane picks me up and forces the muzzle over my nozzle.  He then attaches the steel ropes to each side of the muzzle and attaches the other end to the wagon.   “Mush!” I hear Insane say.  I try to move forward. but nothing happens.   If I could start the wagon, maybe I could keep it moving.   I pull, but it’s too heavy. and I just collapse to the ground.  I’m just a chihuahua.   Insane tries the motivator, but it’s useless.  I can’t pull anymore.  I keep laying down despite the motivator.   Then, Insane decides he’s had enough, so Insane goes in the house and makes a phone call.  

      An hour later, I still can’t move, but I see my previous owners.  They talk to Insane and don’t pay attention to me.   Then, they hand Insane money and pick me up.  I smile with my eyes.  They take me in their car and drive me to my old home.   I’m ready for the baths, the nail clippings, etc., but they don’t do that.   We get to my old masters’ house and they let me loose in their home and I see a young girl dog.  We sniff each other and we both like how the other smells.  I then see my old food bowl and water bowl with wet dog food and fresh water.   I’m home and retired.   I can’t wait to have puppies.  

August 08, 2020 18:44

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1 comment

Recka Olasiman
04:55 Aug 20, 2020

I'm very happy I chose to read this story right after an argument. The first line made me laugh. And the story as a whole made me realize that there's no place like home. I "left home" (talked with a stranger) because of an argument. Thanks to this story, I'm going back home. You're more than an amazing writer. You're a life changer. ♥

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