Flash Entries

Rembrandt (ID##1690895)

Rembrandt
The sun shone brightly through the bedroom window. Even with the curtains pulled the light flickered through. Amity thought it was wonderful to be in bed after the sun came up. Her classes started at 6 AM every day this week. She enjoyed her morning’s respite.
She rolled over to turn her back to the window, five more minutes she thought to herself. She smiled as she pulled the covers up, well, maybe 10. She readjusted arms to comfortably prop her head, she felt warm moist air blowing on her face. Amity slowly opened her left eye to see two huge, wet, black nostrils. She slammed her eye shut, just before a huge pink tongue slathered her face with a good morning kiss.
“Rembrandt! Ewwww!” as she wiped her face with her arm. “What do you think you are doing? Dang it! I was having the nicest dream!”Amity threw the covers off, sat up scrubbing the doggy drool from her face.
Rembrandt stood at the side of her rice bed. His big head lay on the side of her bed, drooling on her sheets, staring at her with those huge, sad puppy dog eyes. The master of looking pitiful to get his way worked his magic again.
Once he was satisfied that Amity was going to get up. He turned, galloped down the hall, retrieved his leash and brought it back to his hostess, Miss Amity. He sounded like a herd of horses, shoot, he was as big as a horse, but then, Great Danes usually are.
Amity laughed as Rembrandt slid into the bedroom with his leash hanging out of his mouth and his rear end skidding around hitting the opposite side of the doorframe with his hindquarters. He stopped just short of jumping on the bed, putting on his version of brakes. He plopped down in front of her, wagging his tail, whimpering.
She knew that it wouldn’t be wise to keep this house guest waiting. She made a quick change, put her hair up in a pony tail and hooked Rembrandt up to his leash. The odd couple headed out the door, petite Amity and humongous Rembrandt were going for a nice little walk.
Amity had dogs as a child, nothing this big though. As she turned the first corner, she laughed as she remembered the distressing conversation with her boss. He said, “This weekend is my daughter’s wedding. The people that normally keep Rembrandt are guests and didn’t think about telling me they couldn’t keep Rembrandt when we go. Shoot, I just assumed that someone had asked them already. I guess you can imagine how surprised I was when I was informed yesterday that I was a dunderhead for not asking earlier. Anyway, Rembrandt’s my wife’s dog. He’s well trained, sleeps on the floor of the bedroom, and really keeps her company. He’s a fun pooch. I am in a real lurch. I need someone to keep my wife’s pet this weekend. I just don’t know who would keep him.”
Amity assumed that Rembrandt was a ‘little’ house dog. After all, aren’t most house dogs little? She tried to imagine what her face looked like when Gary brought in a 50 pound bag of food, three huge treat filled margarine containers, and an obviously well loved Chick-Fil-a stuffed cow with a placard that said “Cow Appreciation Week.”
“Well, Rembrandt, I certainly wasn’t expecting a house pet as big as you. I guess next time I’ll ask more questions before I volunteer, huh.” Amity ran her hands across his broad shoulders as they trotted down the street. “Well, at least I don’t have to bend over to pet you, Big Boy.”
Rembrandt just looked up and woofed in agreement. He thought about giving Amity another kiss. He was so excited to have someone take him for a run instead of a leisurely walk. Amity was amazed Rembrandt was so well trained, he stopped at all of the lights and waited until they changed, he stayed at heel, and he always positioned himself between Amity and any stranger. He was smart, too. He ran Amity right to his favorite Doggy Park.
Once there, Amity looked at all of the tiny dogs running around in the park. Suddenly she became very nervous. What if Rembrandt ate one of these tiny things, or what if he ran and jumped on someone? She started to second guess their trip to this particular park. “Maybe we should go to the Big Doggy Park, Rembrandt.”
She left him on his leash while they walked around the park. Rembrandt was the perfect gentleman, sniffing butts, just like all good dogs do, barking and flirting with a little poodle for the first few minutes. Then Rembrandt took care of his business and playtime commenced. He grabbed a huge stick from under one of the huge oak trees, threw it across the ground, and then flew off after it. Unfortunately for Amity, she wasn’t ready for this new game Rembrandt practically jerked her arm out of its socket as he flew across the field. She looked like a ragdoll being drug after a horse.
Words escaped Amity. Shocked by her situation, she couldn’t remember, “Sit. Stay.” the normal commands. All she could remember was, “Whoa, whoa, whoa!” That obviously wasn’t working. Rembrandt kept grabbing his stick, throwing it up and running to fetch it. Amity finally untangled herself from the leash. A good Samaritan helped her up, and brushed her off. “Apparently one of his skills is to entertain himself in the Dog Park. It would have been nice if someone had told me that,” Amity laughed struggling to regain her composure.
“Rembrandt, come.” No one was more surprised than Amity, when Rembrandt dropped his play stick and immediately returned to her side. He sat down and waited patiently for her to reattach herself to his leash. “It’s time to go home, buddy. I’ve had about as much fun as I can take right now.”
Rembrandt whined, but complied with her wishes. Amity was thrilled when they arrived home without further incident. She told her guest, “I’m going to get cleaned up, you be a good boy.” She closed the bathroom door and started her shower.
Rembrandt sat quietly by the door, but Amity had forgotten one of Gary’s instructions. Rembrandt knew it was treat time. When you go to the park, you come home, and get a treat. He scratched on the door, and whined. Amity kept singing. He scratched on the door, and barked his “You forgot something important bark.” She didn’t come out. So Rembrandt decided to take care of it himself.
Amity was surprised when Rembrandt wasn’t still sitting by the bathroom door. She called for him to come, nothing happened. She cautiously searched each room, calling for her house guest. She was starting to get worried, where could something so big hide in her house?
She finally found Rembrandt in the kitchen. The refrigerator door was open; one of the big margarine containers lay spilt all over the floor. It looked like someone had finger painted with tapioca pudding all over her slate tiles. “Rembrandt! What have you done?” She grabbed a rag to start cleaning up the mess.
Rembrandt immediately brandished his most pitiful face as she wiped up the mess. “Rembrandt, come.” He came over; all hang dog faced, tail between his legs. She knew he was sorry because he finished licking up the rest of the pudding off of the floor. She laughed at the sight, Amity cleaning with a rag, and Rembrandt cleaning with his tongue.
When Rembrandt finished his part of the job, he walked away from Amity. He was ready for a nap. She quizzically watched him. She was startled by what she thought she saw. There was a worm stuck to his hindquarters. Amity walked over and started stroking the dog. “What on earth do you have on you?” Amity guffawed, “Oh, no! How did you get into gummy worms?”She started picking off gummy worm after gummy worm; there must have been a pound. She looked at Rembrandt, shook her head, “I wish I’d asked more questions before I volunteered for a babysitting a house dog.”
kph