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MikZ's Dog's Perspective

by Sonny, October 1995

Okay, well, Mik says he'll take me for a walk if I type a few paragraphs. What can I say? He's an okay sort of guy. He wakes me up when he comes home late, but I usually get a dog biscuit or something. The other night I stood against his window sill and barked at him. I've been able to do that since he came from America—he used to live on the first floor of the house, but he's on the ground floor now. That puts him closer to his kitchen, where the dog biscuits are.

He comes home late a lot. I never ask him where he's been, mainly because I can't actually speak. He seems to go to a lot of different places, though, because he can be home at a variety of times. Sometimes he's home late in the afternoon, he's often home a bit after midnight, but he can be home a hell of a lot later than that. I really don't care, as long as he doesn't forget my dog biscuit. If anyone else comes home with him, I expect a dog biscuit from them, too.

I hope this is enough for my walk. I like going on walks—there's usually some pretty interesting scents on that land behind The Hills Hospital, and sometimes we drive to some bushland and go for really long walks. He likes those. He likes walks by rivers, too. We sit and stare at the water in deep thought... well, he stares at the water, and I go splashing around in it, and leave my mark on a tree somewhere...

I can hear the lead tinkling... I'm outta 'ere...

 

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 Sonny, 3 October 1995.
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