Hi! It’s me, Gizmo.
Did I ever tell you about the time when my dad lost two chapters from the novel he was writing? No? I’ve never told you about it? Well, grab your favorite fur-baby, hold ‘em close, and I’ll tell you the "tail."
*
It was a beautiful winter morning in the town of Almonte. While most of the people were still sleeping, my dad was in his office sobbing. Like the rest of the folks in our quiet little town, I was sleeping too. At least I was trying to. But who can sleep when there’s a grown man crying in a room by himself? Not this puppy. So, I jumped off the bed and padded down the stairs to check in on my dad.
“Dad? Why are you sad?” Even though I can’t actually talk human, I have very expressive eyes, and my dad and I share an extra special bond.
“Gizmo, I’m totally lost. What am I going to do? I was about to send my manuscript to my editor, and… part of the story has… disappeared!” My dad was having trouble speaking. He was so distraught. “Two of the chapters are missing. I know I wrote them, but now they’re just… gone.”
“Don’t worry, dad. I’ll find them.”
Just having me nearby had already cheered him up. Did I mention I have a magical swishing tail? Well, I do. I just need to wag it and people who are nearby feel better. It’s a remarkable power, one that I use very carefully because with great power comes havoc and devastation. Sometimes I knock drinks off the coffee table when I’m making people happy, swishing my golden, feathery tail. But that’s a different story.
I knew who to look for. It was those heckin’ chipmunks, the ones my big brother, Mike, and his mate, Maxine, gave me for Christmas. I gave my dad a quick lick to cheer him up and bolted from his office. I rushed to the main floor, bounding up the stairs, taking them four at a time. When I reached the top, I changed directions, skidding across the hard wooden floor as I did. Using my superior agility and my wondrous tail like a rudder, I regained control of myself and barreled down the hallway.
“Where are you?” I barked out. “Show yourself, rodents.”
The sound of high-pitched laughter drew my attention. I followed it to the living room, where I found two of the critters shredding a piece of paper with their ridiculous bucked teeth. At the sight of my burning eyes and bared fangs, they scurried off, throwing the sheets of paper they held scattering across the floor. In the flurry of pages, they made good their escape.
The sight of my dad’s manuscript sprayed across the coffee table sent me into a rage. “Get back into your stump, heckin’ chipmunks. If I ever catch you messing with my dad’s work…” I let the threat hang there, baring my teeth while I surveyed the room, searching out the little striped bandits.
One of the designer mice was up on the counter, out of my reach. Well, I could have got him, but I’m not allowed to counter-surf. The fur-ball chirped, laughing at me in that incredibly annoying way that only these obnoxious rodents could.
I heard eight little paws scamper past, their tiny claws scratching the floor as they raced back to their stump.
“Your friends have the right idea, Chippy. Get to your stump while you still can.”
The fool made a chuck-chuck call, leaping from one counter to the next, hoping to evade me with his acrobatics. The little fool had no idea I was a champion jumper, my skills honed over years of dock diving competitions. While he was flying overhead, I leapt for him, catching the furry thief mid-flight.
With my head high and my tail swishing behind me, I carried my prize in my mouth. Unceremoniously, I deposited my spit-soaked catch in front of his tree-stump home.
“Stay put. Stay safe. If you’re bored, call me and I’ll come play with you. But these shenanigans stop now.” I bared my teeth at the lot of them, trying to drive my message home.
The little jerks just laughed and disappeared into their stump. The soggy one poked his head out from a hole at the top of the stump. He showed me one of his fingers and chirped. I could only assume it was their way of saying “okay.”
With the rascals all nestled in their home, I darted to the living room and gathered up the strewn sheets of paper, careful to not get too much slobber on them. With a woof, I raced down the stairs and to my dad’s office. I gave him my best doggie smile as I dropped the parchments on his lap.
“You found the missing chapters! Thank you!” He quickly started giving me kisses. Sometimes his overly exuberant displays of affection can be so embarrassing. I let him do it this time. I think he really needed it. Sometimes I wonder what he’d do without me to cheer him up.
*
Well, that’s my "tail" of the missing chapters. I hope you enjoyed it.
Cute. Nice perspective from a dog.