The Day that went Poof

The Day that went Poof

Suzanne Marsh

“I simply do not understand how two small dogs can create such agitation in a few hours.”

Words of prophecy or words of doom? That simple sentence came back to bite me during the day. My husband was complaining about the dogs always pestering him while he was working, normally he goes to work in an office but since the COVID 19 virus and self isolation became words in our vocabulary here we were. It was my turn to watch the destructo demons. We had rescued both small dogs from shelters. They were usually pretty well behaved but when they require attention they want it immediately. Now come on, how can two small dogs cause so many issues. I am here to tell you it is really quite easy for them. I am a freelance writer and I do require several hours a day to write. This is how the day that went poof began. As a writer I really do require time to write, not today, those two culprits Curly Sue and Siren, both are rescue dogs. By the end of the day I was ready for someone to rescue me!

My day began, with a quiet little woof, oh if were only a small woof in my ear. Not to be out done by her cohort, Curly jumps on my chest. I attempt to ignore them, not the smartest thing I could do. Siren, begins by pushing me with her little paws, then Curly joins in. The floor is closing in here. I jump out of bed with fireman like haste. Feel around for my glasses as the destructo twins push the blanket onto the floor. They really are creative. I was thinking of making the bed but decide there could be a more opportune time when I get dressed. I stagger out of the bedroom and head toward the kitchen. They bark and snarl, okay I put them outside, then start the coffee. In my not to wide awake state, I put their dishes up on the counter, I put a little chicken in along with the kibble. Their breakfast is ready. While I wait for the paws at the door, I begin to make my breakfast. Right on cue I hear Siren scratching the door to come in. I give them their breakfast, I sit down with my cereal. I have every intention of eating my breakfast the destructo twins don't want their breakfast they want mine. I give them a small piece of egg hoping that will be enough. They wait, two sets of brown eyes staring at me. They make me feel so guilty. They finally decide they are ready to eat their own breakfast. Ha, now I can finish mine.

Fool that I am sometimes, I head for the bedroom. I begin to make the bed. The two little fiends jump up on the bed. I pull up the blanket, they tug it back. This game goes on for several minutes. I think to myself: 'who is the boss here you or those two little finks.' The most logical answer is me, but it doesn't work that way. I decide to get dressed, and hope these two will get off the bed. Right? Wrong! They begin to push the blanket onto the floor, Curly plows it up and Siren pushes it with her front paws. Damn the next thing I know my clean clothes are on the floor along with the blankets. The little fiends hear something outside, while they run to see what is happening outside, I am hoping for a squirrel, that will keep them occupied until I finish remaking the bed.

I am now ready to begin my day, at least I think I am. I turn on my computer, knowing I have at least two hours to write before lunch. What I think and what they think are two entirely different things, as I am quickly discovering. I manage about one hundred words before a small woof, Siren jumps in my lap followed by Curly. I don't have that large of a lap my arms barely reach around those two. I continue to key. The continue to lick my face, there must be something they require. Sure enough they want out. They also want the noontime snack, this is eleven in the morning, snack time is twelve. I let them in a begin my trek back to my office. It is 10:30am as I sit back down to write the article I have procrastinating with for a week. I am a great procrastinator, however now I definitely need to get this written. I begin to key, they begin to roughhouse. There are growls and snarls, a bone goes flying by. This is not a good sign. I guess as long as it doesn't hit me everything will be fine. I am up to 125 words of a 5000 word article. It is now 10:45am, the two little fiends want back outside. I get up from my desk, Curly gives me shove and we are off. I let them back in I am up to 160 words. I have debate with myself going: 'do I give them their treat early and hope they let me work for a short while or do I ignore them until noon?'

It is quickly out of my hands. Curly gives me a shove and I find myself propelled toward the not so secret place where the snacks are located. I give them their snack, and sit down with a bowl of yogurt. Their snack is finished, now they would like some of mine. I stick my finger in the bowl and give them each a taste. I down the rest of my lunch. I return to my paltry 160 words. My deadline is creeping closer, I have less than two days to finish 5000 words for a Civil War Magazine.

Just as General John Reynolds is about to be killed, two little dogs come flying into my lap again. I attempt to convince them to let me finish four more words, that will put me at about 4000. I let them out, hoping to finish the article. Fat chance, Siren is scratching at the door to come in.

Then I have the scintillating idea to close the office door and leave them to their own devises. That was not the most intelligent thing I have done today. I return to my writing after I close the door. The silence has become deafening, any time the destructo duo is quiet there is cause for great concern. I open the door to see white feathers floating seamlessly through the air. This can't be good. I see Siren, looking guilty and behind her is a pillow from the couch. The two little fiends sit there watching me. I am not sure if I want to scream at them or remember how cute they can be. They look up at me as if to say: 'see we did a really good job huh?' Really good job, I will be vacuuming and cleaning up feathers for the next several days at least. What a mess!

I return to the office after I vacuumed up most of the feathers. Curly and Siren follow me into the office. They are pleased with themselves and begin to settle down. Then I hear a crunching noise, oh crap!!! Those two!!! I mumble to myself. They are chewing part of the rewrite on the John Reynolds article.

I finally, around midnight finished the article. My husband enters the my office:

“Are you coming to bed? The little dogs won't settle down until you come to bed.”

Come to bed? I leisurely saunter into the bedroom. There on the blanket lay the destructo twins, looking up innocently.

My husband looks me in the eye and says:

“see you had time to write and watch Siren and Curly.”

I am not sure if I want to dive into bed or punch him in the nose! I opt for the first one. I move the two fiends toward his side of the bed. Grapple with my CPAP, while the two little fiends sleep on peacefully.