My Wife Came Home - And You Won’t Believe What Her Dog Is Saying Now

in #funny5 years ago (edited)

William Southold | Opinion Columnist |The Southold Report
“Speaking fiction to power one story at a time.”

I picked up my wife from the airport last night, she’s mainly resting today after a long 2 ½ weeks visiting kids and grandchildren. I thought it would be a good time to get some things settled with her dog. Here’s how the whole thing went down:

Me: So, I’ve never seen you so happy running out to the car as I was lugging in her bags, jumping all over her. And then when she sat down - boom - you were up in her lap.

Middie: Of course I was happy! You think I’ve been on a pleasure cruise here with you?

Me: You certainly haven’t done anything to calm the waters.

Middie: Says the supposed Captain.

I resisted trying to come up with any snappy retort. It was hard.

Me: Look. Don’t you think it’s time to quit all this . . . this bickering . . . this . . .

Honestly, I was at a lost for words. How do you explain almost constant . . . disagreements with your dog? I swear, she tilted her head and raised her eyebrows, it looked like she was weighing whether it was a problem or not.

Me: Look, Middie. I’ve already agreed to go back to therapy to talk this whole thing out. I haven’t had the chance to bring it up with Mrs. S, but I am going to today. I would like this whole thing, whatever it is between us, to come to some resolution, if not just some momentary truce.

Middie didn’t respond, so I went on.

Me: OK. So I will discuss this with Mrs. S., and I’ll call for another appointment with the therapist. Then the three of us will go in there . . .

Middie: (interrupting me) May I sit down?

She’s a dog. I give her the “sit” command all the time, and she never does it. She only does it for my wife. What?

Middie: (coming over to me, and yes, sitting right in front of me) So, I’ve been thinking. You know, actually, this past two weeks or so hasn’t really been so bad, has it? I’ve kind of enjoyed it.

Me: Enjoyed it?

Middie: Well, really, has it been so bad going back and forth a little, it’s kind of been . . . invigorating, in a sense.

Me: Invigorating?

Middie: Yes. I mean sparing, going toe to paw, don’t you think it’s been just a little fun? Yes. I’ve enjoyed this.

This whole concept caught me by surprise.

Me: But don’t you think it would be better to come to some terms? I mean, that was the whole point of continuing with therapy. You said that’s what you wanted, to have Mrs. S. there.

Middie: Well, about that. I’ve changed my mind. I don’t want to go back.

Me: Not go back! Don’t you want to tell the therapist, having Mrs. S. in your corner and there to hear all about our time together . . . you know the therapist won’t let me interrupt you . . .

Middie: Well, about that too. You know, the only humans to ever hear me talk are you and the therapist. The therapist is bound by doctor/patient confidentiality, so really, the only person who can actually attest to hearing me talk is you. It’s true about therapy, I Googled it.

Me: You Googled it?

Middie: Yes. You left your phone on your side table there. Siri can be very helpful.

I looked down at the table, and there was my phone. I picked it up, it took me a minute, but sure enough, someone had asked Siri about therapist/client confidentiality.

Me: Surely that cant apply to a . . . dog.

Middie: It can, it does. I called her office and checked.

I went back to my phone - recents. There it was. There was a call to the therapist’s office this morning.

Me: But . . . you and Mrs. S don’t talk?

Middie: No, not in actual human words, no. Never.

Me: Never?

Middie: Not once. You’re it, chap. And our secret-keeping therapist, of course.

Middie got up, I could tell she was about to leave.

Me: But I’ll tell her. I’ll tell her the whole thing.

Middie: And please invite me in when you do. Wouldn’t want to miss it.

Middie turned, and started walking towards the door.

Middie: This will be ripe. Trying to convince Mrs. S. that for two weeks you’ve been having lengthy conversations with your dog. Oh this would be too good to miss.

Me: I’m going to! (I had to raise my voice, Middie was halfway out the door. I swear, I heard her chuckle.)

Middie: Looking forward to more of our scintillating conversations, Bub!

And with that she was down the hall to who knows where. She had me, and she knew it. I don’t know what will come next, but I’m sure when I find out, it will be Middie who tells me.

Central News Service, proudly bringing you the fakest news anywhere, featuring our very own Pulitzer Prize winning Fake Newsman, William Southold
(CNS Disclaimer: Mr. Southold has in no way won the Pulitzer Prize.)
Middie in her favorite spot.png
Middie in her favorite spot.

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