Twilight Promises

Annie asks me if I want to go for a ride in the car. She should know by now she really doesn’t have to ask. I jump off the couch, sprint to the door, and look back at her. Annie laughs, which is by far my favorite sound. It’s even better than the sound of the fridge door opening and my dish being put on the counter. She opens the car door and straps me in. Annie likes to talk to me in the car. As she drives, she informs me the year is now “twenty twenty four” and it’s a good time to make our “reslooshuns” for the new year. Annie says for her “reslooshuns” she wants to be better at calling her parents every week and telling them she loves them. She also wants to go on more runs with me! I love running with Annie. It’s just lately I haven’t wanted to run as much because I’ve felt so tired. Maybe running with Annie will give me an energy boost? I decide to be like Annie and come up with my own “reslooshuns.” Hmm…what could mine be? How did Annie make this look so easy? I know! My “reslooshuns” could be about making Annie happier.

1.      I will listen better. I don’t want to make Annie tell me the same thing three times or even two times. I’ll try to not be so easily distracted when she’s asking me to do something. Even if the neighbor’s cat sits outside our window and stares its unblinking stare at Annie and me, I vow to ignore the possessed cat when Annie is trying to tell me something.

2.      I’ll stay still at night in the bed. Even though I feel tired in the day, it’s been hard for me to stay asleep at night. Now that I’m thinking about it, maybe that is why I’ve felt so tired during the day. The last few weeks, I keep shifting at night to attempt to find a cool, comfortable spot, but I know this wakes Annie up. I don’t know why the bed isn’t as comfortable anymore. Maybe she put scratchy sheets on the bed? Maybe the bed shrunk? Even if the bed shrinks more, I’ll do my absolute best to not wiggle around at night.

3.      Even though it will take all my willpower to not instantly devour it, I will share my food with Annie. Sometimes she slowly picks at her food. Other times she doesn’t even finish it and throws the rest in the trash. This seems to happen when she makes “toe food.” I don’t blame her. One time she put a piece in my bowl; “toe food” is bland, squishy, and colorless. I can’t even tell what kind of food it is. Is it from an animal? Is it a vegetable? It is inedible compared to the delicious, canned food that Annie makes me.  

4.      I will try to distinguish better which toys are mine and which are Mason’s. Mason is always so good to me dropping bits of my favorite food down when he’s in that tall chair. Or is it a high chair? Sometimes I know a squishy toy is his and I’ll still sneak it into my bed and bite it. No longer! Even better than not chewing on Mason’s toys, I will share all my toys with him. When he’s in his crate, I’ll put my front paws up and drop in a bone for him to chew on. Annie will love to see me share with Mason.

Before I can think of more, Annie says we are here. I look out the window. Wait a second, this isn’t the park! Annie sees me start to scrunch down in the seat as I attempt to turn invisible. Annie explains this is the place with doctors who help me feel better. I don’t understand that because every time I’m here I’m poked or pinched, usually while being pinned down so I can’t move. She should call this the place with the funny smells run by wrestlers as opposed to the people who help me feel better.

I stall by walking as slowly as possible. As we enter the building, the scent of sickness layered with disinfectant punches me in the nose. The floor smells the worst; I hold my head high to stay as far from it as possible. I move to the corner of the room and my nose searches for a pleasant smell like a treat that recently struck the floor, but it’s only that bad smell I detect.

One of the so-called “helpers” comes into the room where we are waiting and yells my name. My stomach hurts like I’m hungry, but I know I’m not hungry. We walk into the smaller room, and Annie picks me up and places me on the cold, metal table. My paws start sliding out from under me and I’m forced to sit on the frigid table. Trembling, I judge the distance between the table and Annie’s lap wondering if I could make it — wondering if she’d catch me. As if reading my thoughts, Annie tells me to stay there and that I’m being a good boy. That’s my second favorite sound when followed by a treat. No treat this time.  

An older, alleged “helper” comes in saying the results from the tests are back. She talks too quickly and I can’t catch what she’s saying. I watch Annie’s face as it crumples. I wish I could nuzzle her hand to reassure her. Annie asks how this could be “can sir” when I’m just a three-year-old Frenchie. I hate to see her upset. Why would something called “can sir” make her so upset? I know the word “can.” My food comes in a can, and food is a wonderful, joyful thing. And the boy Annie married is sometimes called “sir” and he seems nice enough.

And before I know it, I have more “reslooshuns:”

5.      Figure out what ‘can sir’ means. To do this, I’ll need to listen hard when Annie is on the phone talking with her parents and when she’s speaking to these suspected helpers.

6.      Speaking of, I need to believe the people who work here are truly helpful. Maybe they can help me get my energy up so I can run all the time with Annie. Maybe they can help me run as fast as I used to!

7.      Help Annie see “can sir” may not be as bad as she initially thinks.