The Four Spaniels

The Four Spaniels
June 2005

I woke up before the sun to the unmistakable sound of scuffling, snuffling noises a puppy would make in play and the clicking of claws on a hardwood floor. By the time I was awake enough to make sense of the sounds, I had rolled over and turned on the lamp beside my bed. To my surprise there was wall-to-wall newspaper spread around the floor and in the middle of it was the cause of the unusual racket that woke me up.

Four, not just one or even two, but four taffy-colored cocker spaniels were all around the room in various forms of play. Leaping and biting and falling was going on in four great heaps of fur that grew softly out of paws and tails and floppy tan ears. My first response was just as soft. I had wanted a puppy for as long as I could remember and there before me now was not one puppy dream-come-true, but four warm, wiggly puppy wishes alive and well cavorting around my room.

My delight was nonpareil to any other I had ever known until my reasoning kicked in and my good sense took over. Suddenly I saw through the sixteen-legged gift that was happily prancing around my room. I knew where my parents were coming from. I could see it plain as day. Sure, these puppies were mine, alright, but they also meant I would be the one appointed to walk them, play with them, feed them, pick up after them, and train them. My parents would enjoy them; spoil them; over-feed, over-toy, over-indulge them while I would be expected to put them on diets and re-train the spoil out of them. Well, now that I had my thinking straight, I was going to give my parents a piece of my mind. These animals interrupted my sleep and I was mad.

Suddenly as I was growing more upset by the minute, and without warning, my parents arrived at my door. "Surprise!" They screamed.

"Surprise, yourself!" I barked, fuming mad. I could feel my face was burning hot and must have been as red as a fire truck. "I know what you're up to and I'm going to tell you now it's not going to work. I can see it now; 'Norman, your dogs are hungry. Feed them. Norman, take your dogs from under foot and give them a walk. Norman shut your bloody damn dogs up. Norman, go outside and play with your dogs; they need exercise. Norman, clean up the mess your dogs made. Take them to the vet, they need their shots, or they're sick, or they have fleas'.

"I know you. You'll feed them things that make them fat and blame me when they're overweight. You'll buy them toys and tell me to pick them up. Well, I'm telling you now, I'm not going to have it. You can take your bloody puppies and shove 'em up your you-know-what. I don't want them. They'll only get bigger and when you get tired of petting them and pampering them and over-doing everything with them that satisfies you, you'll be begging me to take them to the pound to get them out of your hair. Well, you can save us all the trouble and take them out of my hair now. I don't want these dogs. I didn't ask for them. All I want is to go to sleep. I'm tired and I'm going back to bed!"

I was stunned at myself. I had never stood up to my parents like this before. Even more surprising they didn't give me a belt or send me flying across the room. By the look in her eye, I could tell my mother was about to say something like ". . . but look how cute they are. . . ", but I gave her a look and told her to keep quiet; don't even start. Then I turned and said "I'm going to bed."

And I did.

The next morning dawned bright and cheery through my bedroom window. I had slept late and felt fully relaxed when I woke up. I surveyed my room and felt a deep sense of satisfaction when I noticed the newspaper had been completely removed from the floor and the four puppies were nowhere to be found.

I strolled over to the mirror and took a good look at myself. I looked the same as I did before, yet I had never felt so empowered before in my whole life. I had stood up to my parents. Me. I did it and survived to tell about it. I knew things were about to change around here. I was my own man for the first time in my life and it felt good. Real good.

I turned away from the mirror and smiled.