The World According to Rico – Becoming a dog

The other day, the folks presented me with my first big dog bed. I thought it was ridiculous because I love where I sleep now – in my tiny baby bed with half my body rolled up on the wall because I don’t fit. And I also love to sleep wedged behind the toilet, although not much of me fits back there any longer.

Something has happened over the course of the last few months – my body is getting larger. I need to consult a medical professional.

I don’t fit in the cubby hole of the folks’ headboard any longer.

I can’t hide in my little makeshift cave under my mom’s desk because at least two legs will be hanging out.

I went from being four pounds to just under 30.

How did that happen?

I was sort of in self-denial, about becoming a dog, because I really like being a puppy. But when they brought me that “big boy bed,” as Mom called it, I realized they have noticed it too.

I fought the urge to use that big bed because I didn’t want to admit I needed it.

I loved the days when Mom would just scoop me up with one hand, hold me against her chest while still talking on the phone, feeding the chickens and kissing the top of my head. Now, if she picks me up, swear words come out of her mouth and there is labored breathing as she lugs me to wherever I’m too stubborn to walk.

My fur used to be manageable, standard-issue even; but now there are weird hairs sprouting from the insides of my ears and my tail is so fuzzy I can’t seem to stop chasing it. It’s exhausting.

This afternoon, a man knocked on the door and I ran to see what he wanted. That’s when I heard this big dog barking. Alarmed, I looked for the man’s big dog but saw no one. Suddenly, I realized that when I stopped yipping the big dog barking also stopped. Good Lord, I realized the big dog bark was coming out of my body! There was no little baby yipping but rather a big dog protector sound. When did my voice change?

My teddy bear, which used to be the same size as me, is now kind of small for like-sized wrestling. That’s when my dad brought home Lamb Chop – a big stuffed lamb who spends a lot of time with me. We call her Lammy for short. The other day I heard my mom tell someone how Lammy has a “violated” look on her face every time the mama enters the house. I don’t know what that means, but it might have something to do with the strange new adventures I’ve been having with Lammy in private.

I’ve been having loving feelings toward girl dogs at the park, which is awkward.

I need to eat twice as much food as I used to, which is time consuming. Granted, I love to eat so this is the least of my problems. But the amount of tricks I have to perform to get extra treats is kind of irritating.

And there’s the issue of sleep. I have been a big sleeper since I was born but now I find myself going through spurts where I’m a crazy lunatic one minute and unconscious the next. They call it the Wolverine/Baby Syndrome. I don’t know. I lose my mind and then want to be cuddled.

Right before I started writing this, I was absolutely out of my tree and literally bouncing off the walls. Now I suddenly have the need to be unconscious again. And I feel myself being drawn to that dang big boy bed. I give up. I’m just going to pass out on the thing and pray I wake up a little puppy again. I’m not a veterinarian, not a health care professional — but I’m pretty sure I’m becoming a dog.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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