#lost Archives : Angel's Thoughts to Pen

( A Story Told From A Dog’s Point Of View )

( Intermediate Level )

” It was Monday morning and Mom had to go to work. Nothing out of the ordinary. She usually gets up early to go through her emails and allows me time to play with her. I admit I can be quite demanding when it comes to having her undivided attention. I throw my toy, of choice, at her feet, picking it up and dropping it over and over until she pays attention to me.”

Let me not get too far ahead of myself. Let’s start from the beginning. See, I came into her life just before things went crazy in the world and we had strict measures to stay home. My siblings were adopted before me. Many overlooked me sitting in the cage, I guess because I was ninety-nine percent black”

“My brothers and sisters were tri-colored. White with black, and brown patches evenly dispersed over their bodies. I heard people saying they couldn’t decide which of my siblings to pick since they were all so cute.”

“A friend told mom about me and she didn’t hesitate. She told her to go get me. From the moment I came to live with her, I was lavished with love, treats, and toys. Any dog’s dream. This may be is why I wasn’t picked by others. I was destined to be hers. She is my person.”

“While working from home allowed her all the time in the world to be with me, I still was a puppy needing my beauty sleep.”

“This was my life, eating, sleeping, and playing for a year and a half then everything changed. Restrictions finally eased and people returned to their work, including Mom. I surely was not prepared for this. This, as I want to call it, is abandonment.”

“When the day came for her to return to work, I am not sure who was more upset. Me or her. I remember turning my head and thinking, You are what? Where do you think you are going? And without me. This is unacceptable.”

“She reassured me she would be back at lunchtime. I was given a few treats, and she rubbed my head, and said goodbye. I watched the door close behind her and I waited, watching the door until she came home. The time moved slowly. Tick. Tick. Tick.”

“She came home and all was forgiven. She hugged me and told me what a good girl I had been. This situation wasn’t bad. Treats before she leaves and hugs for me once she returns. Hmm, I can accept this, for a while.”

“Weekends were supposed to be entirely mine but she had her online work to do. I reminded her frequently that I was there and I needed her attention. She’d stop what she was doing, to shower me with her love.”

“We still have this same routine to this day but every now and then I like to spice things up. I may take all of the stuffing out of a toy or harass the parrots, which were minding their own business, I must add, or have insane zoomies around the apartment. Somehow she tolerates me when I do these things. ”

“The next thing I did I regret. Mom was in complete panic. Every day when my person comes home I greet her with my wagging tail and jump around letting her know I was glad she was home. This is my way of showing her how much she was missed. Recently I chose not to greet her in the usual way. I discovered a great hiding place. The wardrobe. The only problem, I soon realized, was once I got myself in there I couldn’t get out.”

“Let me tell you what I did. She came home at lunchtime, and I heard the keys rattling at the door. She opened the door and it was completely silent. I wasn’t there to greet her.”

“I knew she had to be looking around for me. I heard my name several times. I chose to stay silent. This was the wrong thing for me to do.”

“I could hear her moving about the studio calling my name. I imagine she had looked under the bed, in the bathroom, and in a lot of my usual spots. Then I heard the door close once again. Her voice calls my name and fades into the distance. Knocks on the neighbor’s doors could be heard asking if they had seen her dog. “

“She returned. Now what? I needed her to know where I was since. I couldn’t push the door open to get out. I heard my name again. This time I let out a whimper. She heard me and said my name again. I whimpered a little louder.”

“She followed my voice and found me. Immediately she picked me up and told me how scared she was thinking I was lost then asked how I got in there. This will be my secret. I will let her imagination try to figure it out.”

“I felt guilty. This prank caused my mom to worry so now I greet her in the usual way. Tail wagging then jumping onto her lap.’

“As she works on the computer I simply look over her shoulder staying close so she knows I am not lost. Maybe, one day in the future, I will do something mischievous again but for now, I will stay by her side.“

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Dogs are special creatures.

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Vocabulary:

Nothing out of the ordinary idiom: nothing special or unusual

demanding – adjective: insistent

strict measures – adjective: adhering closely to specified rules

overlooked – verb: failed to notice

dispersed – verb: scattered

hesitate – verb: pause

lavished – verb: give freely

destined – adjective: certainty

restrictions – noun: limitations

eased – verb: relieve, alleviate

abandonment – noun: stranded, neglect

reassured – verb: say or do something to remove the doubts or fears

entirely – adverb: completely

frequently – adverb: regularly

spice things up – phrasal verb: add excitement or interest

insane – adjective: crazy

tolerates – verb: accept, allow

panic – noun: fear

rattling – adjective: knocking or clinking sounds

whimper – verb: whine, cry

prank – noun: trick

mischievous – adjective: naughty

Question ( s ):

Have you ever owned a pet and spoiled them?

( Intermediate Level )

Kenny and his wife, Jill, had taken their vacation this year at the same time. It coincided with their boy’s summer vacation from school. Michael, ten, would be going to be in fourth grade and Jackson, eight, would be starting second grade in September.

This year, their plans were to camp out at their favorite lake in the mountains. This was a quiet place for them to unwind from their busy city life.

Both Kenny and Jill were attorneys and their schedules were always conflicting with their life at home. Not this year. They are making a point to put their lives and boys first.

Friday after work, Kenny started packing the car with everything his wife had packed. From extra clothing to fishing gear and food. They had plans to leave out at six in the morning since it was going to be a four-hour drive.

This would allow them to arrive in plenty of time to set up their camp and have some daylight hours to enjoy. Michael and Jackson were eager for the next day’s plans and their parents had a difficult time getting them to sleep.

The boys were up at five in the morning and ready to go. “After breakfast guys, mommy and daddy need their coffee.” Kenny smiled at his wife who had just gotten up out of bed ten minutes earlier.

Finally, it was time to leave and the boys were the first to get in the car and have their seatbelts secured. “Let’s go!” They chanted together. “We’re coming.” their mom replied as she checked the door one last time to make sure it was locked.

The four-hour drive went by fast. The boys occupied their time by having car games such as slug bug or how many red cars can you count. Mom didn’t care for the game slug bug since it involved punching the other every time they had seen a Volkswagen beetle. Jackson always cried since his brother punched harder.

Once they arrived they chose to set up camp near the beach area. It was a little rocky but not bad enough to hurt your feet if you went barefoot. This area would allow them great access to swimming or fishing. Whatever they chose to do that day.

The boys ran around and explored their new home for the week as mom and dad set up camp. “Not too close to the water, ok boys. Your father and I are busy setting up and we cannot watch you.”

You heard them in the distance. “Yes, mom.” The boys found an array of bugs as they wandered. These two were just like any other typical boy where ominous creatures intrigued them, picking each up and getting a closer look at them.

Michael would throw each bug once he finished observing it, at his younger brother. “Stop or I am going to tell mom.” Jackson’s threats didn’t scare him. They kept exploring until they heard their mom calling.” Boys. It’s lunchtime.”

Sandwiches and chips were served for lunch. Kenny was hoping to catch a few fish for dinner that night. “Boys after lunch, let’s try to catch some fish for dinner.” Both agreed and a challenge was inevitable.

“I bet you, dad, I can catch the most fish and the biggest” Michael smiled as he challenged his father. “What about me?” asked Jackson. “Of course, you can be part of this too.” dad said as he rubbed the top of Jackson’s head.

As the men headed out to fish for the afternoon, Jill planned on reading her book. A quiet afternoon without the boys and her husband sounded wonderful to her. She had started this particular book over six months back but never found the time to read it with the demands of her family and work.

The trio arrived at the bank of the lake. Michael wanted to get his line in the water as soon as he could. He was determined to win this challenge. Jackson had to have his hook baited by his dad. He was not fond of putting a worm on the hook.

Both Michael and his dad had caught three fish each but Jackson hadn’t caught a single one. He became bored and quit fishing. He wandered off to explore as his father and brother continued to fish.

“We are going to have plenty of fish for tonight and probably tomorrow too,” Kenny said as he looked at Michael. “Where’s Jackson?” He looked but he couldn’t see any signs of him.

“Michael, Where is your brother? Did you see which way he walked? Michael shrugged his shoulders as he uttered, “I dunno.”

“Jackson!,” His father began to yell his name. Nothing. No response. “Michael, grab the fish and take the fishing poles back to camp where mom is. I am going to look for your brother.”

As his dad started to run off he yelled back to Michael, “Let mom know what is happening and tell her not to worry.” Michael grabbed up the fish and the gear and headed back to the campsite.

“Hi Honey, where are dad and your brother?” Michael told his mom what was happening and instantly she became panicked. Jackson was only eight. He was her baby.

There wasn’t anything Jill or Michael could do but sit at their camp waiting on any word from either her husband or Jackson.

Kenny searched by the lake hoping his son hadn’t fallen in, no signs of any footprints or him so he began to head towards the woods. He knew Jackson loved animals and could easily be distracted by a bird or a rabbit.

All along he yelled, “Jackson? Jackson? Where are you?” He stopped periodically in hopes he would hear a response or even hear him crying. Nothing.

The sun would be setting soon and the urgency to find Jackson was heightened. Kenny knew he couldn’t go back to camp without Jackson in tow.

Just as he began to give up all hope of finding him while it was still light enough to see, he spotted something ahead near a fallen log. It was orange in color and he couldn’t quite make out what it was.

it was obviously something that didn’t fit into the surroundings. It was too bright in color. He tried to remember what Jackson was wearing but he failed to pay attention.

His footsteps quickened to see what this object was. As he approached a huge sigh escaped him as it was Jackson. He had fallen asleep propped up against the fallen tree.

He bent down so as to not startle him and gently woke him up. “Oh. Hi, Dad.” as he yawned. Jackson was oblivious to how he had made him worry so.

“Well you scared me and I imagine your mom is worried to death. We need to head back to camp so she knows you are ok.”

Jackson stood up and grabbed his dad’s hand. Jackson told his dad about this small red dog that he followed until he disappeared. “I sat quietly hoping it would come out of hiding and I must have fallen asleep.” Kenny listened to his son’s description of the animal and he figured it was a fox.

They headed back to camp, hand in hand. Kenny was relieved that everything was fine and his son was safe. It would be a story to tell in the future and most likely become exaggerated each time the story was told.