An hour before this picture, Sparky wasn’t so optimistic.
Sparky shows his affection for Mr. Moose by trying to eviscerate him. Last Monday, he succeeded. Mr. Moose’s chest was torn open and his squeaker was laid out like one of those Wes Craven movies. When Sparky was tethered outside, taking a shit, I tossed out the carcass.
I’d seen this coming, so had a Mr. Raccoon stashed away. I went with the raccoon because Sparky loved a raccoon tail he’d found and Mr. Raccoon isn’t the same color as all of the fallen leaves in the backyard.
For my sake, Sparky tried to play with Mr. Raccoon, but it was half-hearted. We just went camping, and on the trip, Sparky was off his game. Sure, he pissed on all the trees at East Harbor, but hanging out around the campground seemed to irritate him. In the camper, his lassitude was uncharacteristic.
When we got home, Sparky was still moody. He’s a stoic fella, so he’d come around, but it got me thinking. I fished Mr. Moose out of the trash. He was covered in coffee grounds and that slimy stuff from banana peels, but that just makes him more attractive to Sparky. Being a human, I’m not living with a garbage moose and I still needed to sew him up.
While I was sewing up Mr. Moose, Sparky couldn’t hide his concern and anxiety. It might have been frustrated enthusiasm, I don’t know. I had to stitch him up by hand, and that material is spun mithril or something tougher. Sparky was trying to help by attempting to jump into my lap or snatch Mr. Moose while I was trying to force the needle through the fabric.
Eventually, he just laid down to wait it out. It got pretty tense.
Here’s Sparky getting reintroduced to Mr. Moose.
Dogs have thinking brains. They aren’t wired up like ours, but they are wired up. Sparky knew that Mr. Moose was gone. He’d mourn Mr. Moose for a while, but he’d get through it. He wasn’t going to be fooled by a stupid raccoon.
It’s good to see him smiling again.
Leave a Reply