A Husky's Life

1.2 | The Alligator in My Kitchen

The sound of barking yanks me away from my well-deserved nap and my lips twitch as I scowl. Selfish humans, why haven't people realised that it's rude to disturb others when they are sleeping? Especially me. It's exhausting having to mind everyone in this household. There's so much chaos all day long, at this point I should be paid.

With bacon. I love bacon.

My ears perk up as a large creature thumps down the stairs. There's a clatter and it sends the laundry basket tumbling towards the front door. I eye the green socks that fly through the air and twiddle my toes with disapproval.

My brother is awake.

Moments later a large ball of grey hair shoots down the stairs and collides with the shoe cabinet. Everything rattles and I swear I hear the sound of something creaking. I almost laugh, Ivan was never smart to begin with and if he keeps acting like this who knows what will happen. Then I feel the smile slip off my face, he's sweet but I really can't babysit him for the rest of my life.

I slowly get up and try to tiptoe away from the doorway. Ivan's eyesight is bad enough, so now all I need to do is hide. The last thing I want is to be covered in sticky dog spit. Actually, now that I think of it, Ivan is a really drippy dog. But there's nothing a little training can't fix. I inch my way across the floor. Slowly gunning for that crack behind the television. The floorboards creak, I wince and the sound of a jingling collar comes barrelling towards me.

Perhaps I should get a pair of headphones, humans use them to deter each other don't they?

The TV offers a narrow gap and I contemplate wedging myself in there. Ha, that would show the humans just how flexible I am. My ears flick as Ivan's feet shuffle across the worn wooden floor and I feel his hot breath spread across my neck.

I slap him with my foot.

Silly boy. Learn your manners.

A huge lopsided grin spreads across his face and Ivan wags his tail. It twirls in the air like a marshmallow on a sugar high and he does a little play bow before bouncing out of the room, but not before tripping over his paw and sliding into a chair. I groan and nudge him with my foot. It's amazing how he hasn't seriously injured himself yet.

One look at the clock tells me it's 8:00. I wag my tail. Dad's up and it's time to play. Or more precisely, it's time for me to see how much food I can nab without Mum finding out. Ivan skirts out the door, dashes around the corner and bounces down into the kitchen. I'm a lady, so I sit and wait patiently.

Dad crashes around for another while. I hear Mum murmuring something from behind the bedroom door. The coffee machine whirrs, mugs click against the bedside table. There's a thump. My ears perk up. Sounds like Dad tripped over my water bowl again. I've never understood the point of placing it so close to the doorway.

Down in the kitchen, plastic scrapes across the tiles. I roll my eyes. When will Ivan learn that treats aren't a substitute for a good breakfast? Besides, he's never been able to open the treat container all on his own.

I jump up when I catch sight of Dad racing down the stairs. He mumbles a quick hello, pausing to give me a scratch behind the ears, before motioning for me to follow him into the kitchen. I race into the room, threading myself between his legs. I know it will trip him up but humans can be so funny with their little facial expressions.

With no tails and motionless ears, they really have nothing but their faces. Sometimes I pity them.

By the time I pick my way down into the kitchen, Dad's already busy making toast. I skidded to a stop before the fridge. Ivan, with his tongue lolling like a calf's, strains to peer over the countertop. Dad's face breaks out into a tired grin and he rubs his eyes with the back of his hand. Silly human, I told you to go to sleep earlier last night.