I Live To Serve

I Live to Serve

 

By John W. Vander Velden

 

My name is Mitch.  Isn’t that just the greatest most wonderful name?  Mitch, Mitch, Mitch… I love hearing them say my name.  Oh…I guess I haven’t told you who the “them” are.  They’re Sam and Lisa.  Aren’t those the greatest names any people ever had? Sam, Lisa, Lisa, Sam, Lisa, Sam, Sam, Lisa, they’re the bestest most awesome people, and I live to serve them. 

Lisa brought me home when I was…well I was a puppy.  That was…hmmm…forever ago.  Sam loved me right away, I don’t know why, after all I’m just a dog.  But they tell me that I’m their dog, and they never lie so I know it’s true.  Being someone’s dog is really special, but it’s a lot of work too, not that I’m complaining.  I’ve got to watch things all day, especially when Sam and Lisa go out, and they go out all the time.  I mean I’d like them to take me with them, and sometimes they do.  We go for car rides in the country, or for long walks.  I love car rides.  But other times they just can’t…well they’re gone so long, forever almost.  I miss them, oh how much I miss them, but because it’s Sam and Lisa I know they can’t help it.  I know they would rather spend time here with me than just about anything else, so I understand…really.  So when I’m home alone I listen…Heard that…I’d better go and check that cracklely-creakely sound over there.  Be back in a sec.   

Awwww… it was nothing.  Just a tree branch that rubs against another one.  But it might have been a burglar or maybe something really dangerous like a squirrel or a bunny.  Why just yesterday two crows landed in the back yard.  I sent them packing you can be sure of that.  I only had to bark at the window for fifteen minutes before they got the message.  “Pack it up birds.”  And there’s the guy that comes every day, well almost every day, in that blue-gray uniform, at least I think it’s blue-gray.  I have trouble with colors.  Anyway he comes to the door and puts something in the box out there.  I let him know he had better not come inside, Mitch is on patrol.

There are others that come to the door, but whether or not they ring the doorbell I let them know I hear them and this guard dog doesn’t like strangers around when Sam and Lisa are out.  Nope, nobody has come in on my watch, and nobody’s going to.  You see I’m Mitch, I’m Sam and Lisa’s dog, and I live to serve.

(449 Words)  1-26-2017

 

 

 

It's Not Easy Bein' a Cat

 It’s Not Easy Bein’ a Cat

By John W. Vander Velden

 

I’m here to tell you it isn’t easy being a cat.  First off cats don’t get any respect.  Just look at me.  Strong and lean.  I mean I can jump nearly ten time my height for cryin’ out loud.  I move without a sound and can see in total darkness.  Well maybe not total darkness, but close.  My razor sharp teeth and retractable claws make me the perfect predator.  And I’m a Tom through and though.  Just ask the ladies next door.  But what do people call me?  Fluffy.  Fluffy…you have got to be kidding.  Me Fluffy…  Well I do have thick fur but have you ever heard a stud Rocwelier called Fluffy?  I didn’t think so.  He’s not a cat.  Then there is the litter box…a litter box…like only one and they keep it in the cellar.  A guy nearly has to pack a lunch when nature calls.  These people that take up space in my house, you know the tall one and the not quite so tall one...they go by…well some names or other.  It really isn’t important.  But these people have two bathrooms.  Like they can’t share or something.  And they keep their potties in real handy places.  It’s not like they have to go down the stairs and around the corner…noooo.  And you think it was a felony if I hack up a little bit of hair a couple times a day.  Like I said the fur is long and I’ve got to keep up an image for the girls.  I don’t shine by accident. No, it takes work and time too.  It also seems I can’t go anywhere.  What’s the big deal of wandering around on the kitchen counter, or checking out what the tall one has on his plate?  But what really pulls my tail is that at night they don’t even let me sleep on the not so tall one’s face.  How can a cat find a comfortable place to bed down…sheesh.  I can’t tell you how often I have been chucked to the floor. 

What does it take to please these people?  Just last summer I brought a ground squirrel into the house.  You would have thought by the screaming I had killed it or something.  All that screeching noise distracted me and my lunch got away.  I told the not so tall one that I’d get it sooner or later, but whatever she said…not that I bothered listening…it didn’t sound like she believed me. 

Then there’s the stuff they feed me. Some plus shaped hard pieces of who knows what.  Oh it’s not too bad for the first twenty-two minutes and forty seconds, but after that it goes stale.  Strange they think I’ll nibble at it all day.  Why can’t my people cook me up some fresh salmon now and then?  A couple times a week shouldn’t be any problem.  But you know how hard it is to get good help… and that tall one’s no help at all.

Like I said it is not easy being a cat, and all this talking has worn me out.  I’ll just lie down a while in that sunny spot at the top of the stairs, so don’t bother me….

 

(543 Words)  12-9-2016

 

 

Small Dog and Big Hearts

Small Dog and Big Heart

By John W. Vander Velden

 

They say there is nothing like a good dog.  But the Malamute we had years ago was nothing like a good dog.  But I don’t let my difficult experiences with Bear poison my love of the fur covered tail-wagging critters.  Over the years I have been fortunate to have shared time with four legged friends of vast sizes and colors.  Some purer blood than British royalty but most have been what snobs would call mutts. 

Pedigree doesn’t mean everything to this guy…but heart does.  And the size of a K-9’s heart has nothing to do with the bulk that lies near my feet.  On a strange winter day while I was doing tax paperwork, my wife called and wondered if I was open to taking in a dog.  A dog in our household means extra work and responsibilities.  And my beloved knew I would be carrying the bulk of the added burden.  To her good fortune I had just totaled my personal prescription cost for the year…a sizable sum.  So I didn’t hesitate when she called.  I sensed the excitement…the need…she felt.  So Cloey came into our lives…a tiny thing…a Chihuahua mix…with long brown hair and legs with the finest bones I could imagine.

 

This puppy moved into our home and with its immense heart and sweet disposition and became part of our family.  Over the years, our 7 pound protector…though she has gained a few pounds recently…has earned her place…a special place…in our lives.  Our home and our lives are richer because of this tiny dog.  Cloey is smaller than our cat Oliver but has a heart as big as Montana.  Where would we be without her?  I can’t imagine my life without the longhaired, fish-boned, bundle of pure love. Like I said at the beginning, there’s nothing like a good dog, and Cloey is the best.  

 (316 Words)  9-2-2016