A Dinner Party

By Sara LeVee Safyan

Staring didn’t accomplish much. But, I wasn’t getting anywhere with drooling.

I kept speaking, like they’ve always taught me to. Why don’t they want me to do it now? Why is the old one always yelling at me?

This is getting me nowhere. I can still see it. It’s there. It’s staring at me! It wants me to stare at it. I have to have it. It is the only thing in my entire life that I have ever had to have. This is my whole life’s purpose. I know it.

Maybe if I jumped?

Jumping didn’t accomplish much. Now they’ve forced me away. Great. And this gate. Oh, there’s no way. I’ve lost all hope. This is the end. Goodbye, world. It’s time for my corner and my ever-loved, graying blanket. It’s time for sleep. I can dream about it. Maybe, if I dream, I can have it. Maybe that’s how we all get things, through our dreams, our secret hopes…

Sleeping didn’t accomplish much. They’re all still there. Rattling on. Talking incessantly. Here comes the little one. She’s reaching for the gate. Thatta girl! Open it. Open it. OPEN IT!

“QUIET!” The old one yelled from the other room.


The little one is next to me now. With her blue jean dress, and that blonde hair, and those shoes. How annoying. She can’t help me. Well, maybe she can. She is comforting. Yeah, especially when she pays attention to me like this. Oh, yup, that’s the life. I could stay here forever.

Wait. I still need it. I can smell it’s there, waiting for me on the table. Now’s my chance.

Running and grabbing did accomplish much! I got it! The human food. My mouth. Oh, the taste. Oh, the joy.

Okay, I may have been hit on the snout because of it. And, they may have tried to forcibly take it out of my mouth. And, I may have snarled a little bit. And, I may be in the literal doghouse.

It was all worth it. My life’s purpose has been met. This must be what happiness feels like. But, I’m all alone. It’s dark. I want back in. I’m chained in. They don’t love me anymore. Maybe if I bark I can get out of here?

Barking didn’t accomplish much.

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