Scruffy: Bad Dog

I saw her on the phone again. I hate the phone. It only makes her cry and I don’t like it when Mindy cries. And there she was again on the phone, probably talking to Blake, and crying. I did the only thing I could do, I walked over, slowly so I didn’t startle her, and sat down next to her. I put my scraggly, old head down on her pant leg and let my tongue flop out creating a wet circle on her pants. She patted my head. I liked it when she did that.

“You’re such a good boy,” I remember she said to me through her tears and then she leaned down and kissed me through my thick fur. I looked up at Mindy then and I noticed that her tears had nearly stopped falling. She was smiling. I had made her smile. I licked her face and she laughed a little. A very little. But it was still a laugh. And I had made her do it. I caused her to laugh. I was a good dog.

“You’re silly. You know that?” she always talked to me that way, you know the way I’m talking about. The same way Man talks to Little Man, with a high pitched voice that relaxes me so much and just makes my insides feel all calm. I remember, I licked her face again and this time her smile was big.

I remember what happened next too. Mindy stood up off the couch and walked into the kitchen. I followed her, as any good dog would do (and I am a good dog.). I watched as she reached into the top cabinet. My heart started beating faster. I knew what she was doing. I was almost positive. I was right, too. I remember. She pulled out that box with that picture of that real nice looking Dalmatian on it. You know, the one with the blue eyes and the red collar? Anyway, she took that box out of the cabinet and brought it down and shook it in front of my face. She was teasing me. My tongue fell out of my mouth again. I couldn’t help it, it just happened. But I am a good dog. Mindy doesn’t mind if my tongue hangs out. Mindy loves me.

But I remember that Mindy tipped the box
over her hand and shook it and one lonely cookie fell out. I sat down and my tail stopped wagging real quick. I normally get two or three. Never one. Only bad dogs get one cookie and I am a good dog.

“Looks like I need to go to the store and get you some more treats, huh Scruffy?” she looked at me for a reply. I was still in shock about the cookie. Only one? But I’m a good dog. “Arf,” was all I could think of to say. I remember she gave the single cookie and then brushed her hands clean into the trash can. I didn’t even get to lick her hands clean. Good dogs get to do stuff like that, I thought.

Next, she went to closet and got out her coat. We’re going on a walk! I thought so I ran over to the table near the door and grabbed my leash in my mouth. I pulled it down real hard with a yank and down it came along with a bunch of papers and other stuff that looked like good stuff to chew. Later, I thought, first I’m going on a walk with Mindy! I turned around and walked back to Mindy and started shoving the leash into her waist. I always did this when I wanted to go for a walk. Good dogs always let there people know when need or want something, and I’m a good dog. But Mindy pushed me away. I didn’t understand.

“No Scruffy. You can’t come with me this time. They don’t let pets into the grocery store. And besides, I have some other errands to run. You stay here and be a good watch dog.” I remember she patted me on the head and ruffled my fur into my eyes. I sat down on the floor. My tail had stopped wagging. I tried to make it wag, because a good dog always wags his tail and I am a good dog. I opened my mouth and the leash feel out and onto the floor. It hit with a hollow thud. Mindy walked to the door, took one last look at me, smiled and then left me alone. Left me alone to be a good watch dog.

I remember what happened next too. I walked back over to those papers I had knocked off the table and sniffed at them. They smelled new, and they smelled like outside. I was about to chew on one of them, I don’t know why it just felt like the thing to do, when I realized that a good dog would never chew on his person’s papers. And I am a good dog. So I walked over to my plaid bed, which was next to the big picture box. The picture box wasn’t turned on, so it wasn’t very interesting to watch, so I just laid down in my bed and took a nap.

I remember the dream I had that night too. I was so real. I was running in a field. That same field I always run in in my dreams. The big one with the wild flowers and dandelions growing everywhere. And Mindy has this stick. This perfectly fine stick from what I can tell. But she keeps throwing it away. So I have to keep running after it and bring it back to her. Mindy laughs when I do this, and that means she’s happy so she must like the stick, but she keeps throwing it away. I don’t understand why she throws it away, but I bring it back to her anyway because she’s smiling and a good dog always makes his person smile.

I remember that I woke up when I thought I heard Mindy coming back into the apartment. I heard the keys jingling against each other in her hand behind the door and then I heard her as she put them in the hole and turned them. But when Mindy opened the door it wasn’t Mindy standing there. It was Blake. Blake’s the guy on the phone that makes Mindy cry. I know that ‘cause when she’s on the phone I always here her say his name.

I looked up at him and my lip went up and I showed him my teeth. I didn’t mean to. It just happened. Because a good dog never shows his teeth like that to Man, and I am a good dog.

“Hello dumb fuck.” He said to me. I started getting up. I stretched as I did it, I remember that because I tried to make it look like I wasn’t stretching, I wanted him to think I was going to pounce. But good dogs don’t pounce on Man. I remember that he walked into the room and he was wearing real big boots. They were black with big metal toes. I remember that because the next thing he did was he kicked me with that big, black boot. It kind of hurt but I didn’t want Blake to know it did so I just let the pain go inside of me. I swallowed hard. He stood there looking down at me and his greasy hair was dripping onto the floor. I remember that too because later I went to smell it and it smelled like bad. It smelled like Blake. Blake leaned down to pet me, it looked like. I tried to shrink away, but he reached me anyway. He didn’t really pet me, he just kind of hit me kind of hard. I barred my teeth at him again. I meant to do it that time, but I really am a good dog.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, you dumb ass dog.” Blake stood back up, ‘cause he had leaned down to reach my head, but he stood back up and started walking around the room. I didn’t like this. It didn’t feel right to me. Blake had been here when Mindy wasn’t around before, but she would always tell me when Blake was coming over. This time it was a complete surprise.

I watched as Blake walked around the room. I noticed then that he had a backpack with him too. It was old and yellow and the zipper was broken, but he still wore it on his shoulder. I followed Blake into the kitchen. I had to be a good watch dog. I promised Mindy I would. I watched him as he started taking stuff off of the counter top. He kept saying, “Mine, mine, mine,” as he did it and stuffed the stuff he took from the counter into his backpack. The backpack only had one shoulder strap. I remember that now too. I didn’t like the look of this at all. Blake wasn’t supposed to take Mindy’s stuff, was he? I didn’t know.

I followed him back into the living room where he was bent over the large rack thing next to the picture box. The rack held a lot of the square things. I don’t know what they are, but Mindy really likes them. She spends hours organizing them and making sure they’re where they’re supposed to be. I remember this one time I accidentally knocked in to it (I would never do it on purpose because I’m a good dog.) and she got real mad because she had to put them all back in there right places. I like the squares too. They’re neat to look at, and Mindy can make real pretty sounds come out of them somehow. I think she’s magic.

My mind wandered back to one day when Mindy and I were at the park. She was throwing away another perfectly good stick and I was running to go get it when my neighbor Sparky came from out of nowhere and just grabbed the stick right out from under me. He didn’t say anything, didn’t tell me where he was taking my stick, he just took it. My perfect stick was gone. It was just gone. I didn’t know what to do. I waited for Mindy to come over and comfort me. The best stick in the world had just been taken from me so unfairly. I remember this hollow pit in my stomach and I began to howl.

Now watching Blake taking Mindy’s squares I felt that same hollow feeling. And I knew Mindy would feel the same way. That would make her mad. If she came home and found some of her squares missing she would be very angry. I had to do something.

So I did the only thing a dog can do in a situation like that. I got a running start and didn’t stop running until I had plowed right into the back of him. I remember watching Blake falling into the rack of squares I remember he got up quickly, trying to make it look like he hadn’t fallen at all.

“What the fuck was that, you dumb dog?” he yelled. And this time he kicked me hard enough to send me skidding into a wall. I remember I yelped, more out of surprise than in pain, though it did hurt a little. Then I remember Blake went back to the squares, which were now in a scattered pile on the floor.

Well, that didn’t work, I remember thinking to myself. I had to do something else. I felt this thing chewing in the back of my mind. An idea was forming, one that I couldn’t allow to complete itself. It was too terrible of an idea. No matter how much I hated Blake. No matter how bad he made Mindy feel he was still a Man and I would never, ever bite a Man. Good dogs don’t bite Man. And I am a good dog. After all, it was Man who had raised me back all those years ago, and Man who had given me to Mindy.

But the urge was so strong. I remember it so clearly. It wrapped it’s hand around me so tightly I couldn’t do anything but bite him. I lunged towards Blake, mouth open, teeth bared, and when I made contact with Blake’s behind I clamped down as tightly as I could.

Blake lost it. He turned around, I remember this so vividly, and picked me up and threw me against the wall. Luckily I landed on the couch, after I hit the framed picture above it first, sending it crashing to ground, shattering glass into a million pieces.

Blake walked up to me and pulled a very, very sharp, pointy thing out from his pocket and held it against my throat. I knew that it wasn’t a good thing. Then he said to me, “I should kill you right now, you dumb bitch.” Then he flung me back against the couch. Hard too. I remember. And then he grabbed his backpack and just left.

I slowly went back to my bed, making sure I didn’t step on any of the broken picture. As I laid down I began to wonder if I had done the right thing. Because I am a good dog. I really am. I didn’t mean to bite Blake, it just sort of happened. I was very confused.

Then Mindy came home. She saw the mess that Blake and I had made and instantly she said to me, “Scruffy! Bad dog!”