There Are Times I Wish I Had My Dog’s Life (pt. 1 of 2)

BEDROOM – MORNING

(Byron is sprawled horizontally across the bed asleep in his pajamas.  M [Byron’s wife? Significant other? Alpha? Food Lady?] is fussing about, getting dressed and trying to find keys)

No, no. No need to make the bed. I'm just fine. Really.

M: It’s time to get up.

(Byron leaps from the bed and bolts from the room at a full sprint)

KITCHEN – MORNING

(M is getting things together in the kitchen, and Byron comes bounding in)

Byron: Hey!  Hi!  Good morning!  Oh my God, I slept great!  It is so beautiful this morning, and you look great!  God, I love you!  Holy shit!

M: Thanks.  I love you too, buddy.  I slept okay, except you kept shoving and kicking me.  Do you want some breakfast?

Byron: Do I?!  Oh, man, that sounds so good.  It’s like you read my mind.  This is totally my favorite part of the day.  What am I having?  (closes his eyes and crosses his fingers) Cereal, cereal, cereal, cereal cereal…

M: Same thing you have every morning. (points to a bowl of cereal and a box on the counter)

Byron: Yay!

M: Do you want dome banana sliced up on it?

"Are you... are you tearing up?" *Sniff* "No."

(Byron is stunned.  He can’t believe it.)

Byron: Yes.  Yes I do.  Really?  You cut up a banana for me?  That is so thoughtful.  You are truly a wonderful, thoughtful, caring person.

(Byron grabs the bowl and rushes to the table, shoving the food in with his fists)

Byron: Oh, Jesus.  This is so amazingly tasty.  Every bit is like, uh, oh, yum.

(Byron stops for a moment and gags before violently hacking up some food from eating too quickly, then continues eating)

LIVING ROOM – MORNING

(M is dressed for work and is at the front door)

M: Okay, so I’ll see you this evening.

Byron: (Shocked, horrified) Where are you going?

M: Work. Where do you think?  One of us has to have a job.

Byron: What?  Work?  No.  Don’t go to work.  I mean, we could…  well, okay.  But you’ll come right home?

M: Yes.

Byron: Swear?

M: Swear.

(M exits.  BYRON watches her go, sadly.  He stands at the door staring.  Staring)

(M returns)

Byron: FINALLY.

M: I haven’t even left yet.  I just forgot my sunglasses.

Byron: Awwww.

(M leaves again.  Byron stares. Stares.  Stares.  Then he goes over to the couch, sits down and falls asleep)

LIVING ROOM – DAY

(Byron is on the couch, when he spies something out the window)

Byron: Oh, you have got to be kidding me!

(Byron leaps up and runs to the front window.  The Postal Carrier is coming up the front walk.  Byron bangs on the front window, shouting at him)

Look at those diabolical eyes. He'll be back. But I'll be ready. Tomorrow, and the next day, and the next. Sundays tend to be okay, though.

Byron: I told you to stay away from here!  Hey!  Hey!  You better not be trying to break in to this house!  You better not break in!  (Byron forces open the window, leaning out.)  I told you to stay away!  I’m really tough, you better not break in here!

Postal Worker: I’m not going to break in.  I’m delivering your mail.  (He turns and starts leaving)

Byron: Yeah!  Yeah, that’s right.  You better run!  (Closes the window) Phew.  That was close.  I am a badass.

(Byron looks around.  Sighs.  Goes back to the couch and falls asleep)

*WILL M EVER COME HOME??

*WILL THE POSTAL CARRIER INVADE AND PILLAGE THE HOUSE??

*WHAT IF BYRON HAS TO PEE?  WHAT THEN??

*WILL THE STUPID NEIGHBOR’S CAT DARE TO SHOW HIS STUPID FACE?

FIND OUT.  NEXT TIME.

The epic saga continues here, with part 2.

photo credits: 

1. Mark Hillary, “Matilda The Staffie in Bed,” Flickr
2. Spark_Editor, “A mailman in his truck,” Flickr
3. Tracy Shaun, “Late Night Bowl of Cereal” Flickr