Danny Extorts Andrew

Hello, everybody. It is I, your favorite dog, Danny the Dog. At least I’m your favorite dog that pens episodic epistles.

I write about my life, my loves, and my losses—although I do not lose very often. Today I’m here to tell you about one of my many wins. And of course, it’s a win against my arch nemesis, Andrew, my human.

For those of you who have been following my exploits, you know of my love of turkey slices. How every morning when Andrew and I come in from our walk, he’ll give me a few slices. And you’ll also know that we live on a boat. I only mention that because it has a bearing on my story.

So here’s the set-up. Boats have cockpits—it’s the place you steer from. There are also seats and/or benches where people (or dogs) can sit around and enjoy being out on the water. Me, I don’t get it. I love air-conditioning and all it entails. Anyway, on the bulkhead (wall) there’s a hatch (door) that leads into the cabin where that wonderful air-conditioning is and where we live. But in the early morning, when it’s relatively cool outside, I like to sit in the cockpit and commune with nature. And that is where I get my turkey-slice allotment for the day.

Andrew will go in and prepare his first Bloody Mary of the day (that’s his treat). Then he will get my turkey slices ready. He puts three or four (sometimes five) on a plate and then sits down at his computer to check his emails. It doesn’t take long because no one ever emails him.

This whole time, the door is open and I’ve got my head sticking into the cabin.

I must back up for a moment and tell you that when you go into the cabin, you have to go down three steps—which means when Andrew is sitting at his computer and I’m standing in the cockpit, we are at eye level. It makes it so much easier to communicate that way.

After what seems like an eternity, he’ll pick up a slice of turkey and bring it over to me. Naturally, I inhale it. Then he’ll sit back down at his stupid computer and start reading newspapers online. READING!!! While I’m waiting for my slices?

Oh yeah, one other thing. Andrew leaves the last slice on the plate, and when he puts the plate down at my feet with a single turkey slice on it, I know it’s the end of our morning ritual.

Okay, now here’s what I wanted to tell you. But before I do, I’d like to remind my regular readers that when I give Andrew a command, it’s with just one bark. I don’t bark-bark-bark like a normal dog. There is no need. I have Andrew so well trained that a single bark does the job.

Instead of telling you what transpires every day between Andrew and myself after I have my allotted turkey slices, I’ll show you how it goes.

I have already had my turkey slices. Andrew is at the computer. I’m looking at him (at eye level) through the door.

Me: Bark!

Andrew: (He ignores me.)

Me: Bark.

Andrew: (He ignores me.)

Me: Bark.

Andrew: That’s all. There is no more. Relax and let me get some work done.

Me: Bark.

Andrew: (He ignores me.)

Me: Bark.

Me: Bark.

Andrew: I told you there is no more!!!

Me: Bark.

Me: Bark.

Me: Bark.

Andrew: Okay, just one more.

Me: A great big smile on my face.