Floppy-- A Dog For All Seasons

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
So... I found this little random scribble of mine on an extremely dirty piece of paper while I was cleaning my room, and decided to type it up in case I ever wanted it. It's about my dog, and may not be the best thing that I've ever written, so yea...

Hope you people don't get a heart attack reading it...

Submitted: March 29, 2008

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Submitted: March 29, 2008

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Floppy- A Dog For All Seasons

I still remember the day we bought Floppy. The first thing he did when we introduced him into our house was to pee on the new cardboard box we had set out for him. Little did we know that living with him would continue to be exactly like that first day- full of trouble and mischief.
Floppy was a difficult dog. Westies are genetically narcoleptic, but Floppy made a case for canine Ritalin. He careened around the house, possessed by a pointy-eared, drooling demon, and practiced situational bladder control on the maple parquet floors of our house. Soon after, Floppy grew into twenty-two pounds of torso with three-inch stubs for legs, yet he could accomplish a dead leap off the concrete ground in order to swipe at a passing squirrel. The rest of the time, he simply slept, paying attention to no one unless it was to ferociously snap at whoever had disturbed him. But after every misdeed, he would turn his googly-eyed gaze up at us, and we would turn to butter. We couldn’t help it- we loved him. However, he would always continue to chew up those $450 Italian loafers and persist in scratching marks on the new patio doors we had just installed.
Most troublesome was the fact that Floppy despised any other moving creature within eyesight. He would pursue wild rabbits, attempt to catch squirrels, and try to commit suicide by jumping out of our moving car to trap and apprehend a cat for trespassing into his view. His goal in life seemed to extinguish any organism smaller than he.
However, through rich and poor, sickness and health, waning affection and growing annoyance, he is my dog, and I am his human. And when he turns his googly-eyed gaze up at me, it’s clear we are, at the very least, agreed on this matter.


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