Laugh at my Pain

“Dog Story”

by Eli Cohen

    My younger sister wanted a dog. I dislike dogs. You can already see the problem here. My sister was begging my parents for a dog for a long time. One day, she annoyed them beyond belief until they finally decided to get her one. This wasn’t fair. I’d been asking for an iPod for years, while she was begging for a dog only since she saw one on “Animal Planet” two weeks ago. I told my parents this and they immediately felt guilty, so they ordered me an iPod as well.
When it came in the mail a few days later, I was using it all the time. I’d go to sleep with the headphones in so when I’d wake up, I could listen to music right away. I was so happy, I forgotten for awhile that my sister’s dog was arriving shortly. One day, my parents left with my sister to get the dog, and I was in shock at what they returned with.
Usually when a little girl wants a dog, she’ll choose a cute puppy like a poodle or maybe a Pomeranian. My sister got a full grown German Shepard. Apparently, it was because she thought “bigger is better” applied to animals whose vicious wolf ancestory-instincts could kick in at any moment and snap her like a twig. But after listening to some Pink Floyd on my iPod, I was over it. At least my sister wasn’t bothering me anymore. That was until her dog needed food and water. I then found out that my sister expected me to do all the work, and apparently my parents shared this belief.

Her excuse was that she was too small to be able to tend for such a big dog. “But that’s not fair!”, I’d implored.  “Life’s not fair”, was my parents excuse. So I became the one who had to feed the dog and make sure it had water in its bowl. I even needed to take the dog out as well. I hated the fact that I had to clean up after it, but at least now that I had an iPod, I could listen to some music while I walked the dog.

When my family and I went on vacation to New Jersey, we had to bring the dog with us. We found some motel that allowed dogs so that’s where we stayed. After going out to wherever, when we got back, I, of course, had to take the dog out. It was freezing out there! Snow all over the place. I put on my jacket and took the dog out. It was hard to keep up with the dog as I tripped in the knee- high snow. Because there was snow all over the place, the dog was scared and couldn’t find a place to ‘do his business’. We were out for over an hour, and he still didn’t go. My fingers felt like they were bleeding from the cold air. I had to go back inside. I begged, “Please, please, PLEASE just go. I’m begging you!” I looked crazy.

Finally, my prayers were answered. The dog took a crap somewhere in the snow. Not far from the dropoff point, there was a sign. It read: “NO DOGS allowed” and warned of a $500 fine if the dog wasn’t cleaned up after. “No worries”, I thought, “No one’s around, I’ll just pick it up”. That’s when I realized I didn’t bring a bag with me. To make things worse, I noticed a police officer coming towards me. He did not look happy. Maybe he’d seen what I did? I started freaking out. Worst of all, the deed was beginning to sink within the snow; if it sunk too deep, I wouldn’t be get it out. I was getting scared and really nervous. Without thinking, I picked up the crap and placed it in my jacket pocket.

I had gloves on, but the smell was unbearable. The cop came over. He took a look at the ground where he last saw my dog squatting in the ready position. He then looked at me suspiciously. I don’t think he saw me put it in my pocket. The snow was blowing too hard and he was far away. “Everything alright here, son?”, he asked me. “Yeah”, I told him, but then the dog started barking madly. I did not like the sound of that. Luckily, the officer left me alone after that, thank the lord. I started walking back to the motel, but first I needed to find a trash can. When I did find a trash can, I reached Into my pocket to pull out my garbage, and I felt something else…in my pocket…that if I knew it were there…. I wouldn’t have put the poo in there with it. Take a guess! I want you to take a freaking guess as to what was in my pocket. If you’re completley lost here, it was my iPod. My beautiful, two- years- of- begging- for- it- iPod.

Anyway, a few weeks later, my parents returned the dog and got my sister one that was more appropriate for the whole family. We got a schnoodle, a schnauzer-poodle mix. We called him Duke. I like Duke and thanks to him, I like dogs now, too. They’re not as bad as I thought.
As for my iPod, I was able to clean..most… of it up. It still looks like I had some weird graffiti symbol engraved onto the back. But I don’t mind, as long as I’ve got a dog to walk along with me while I listen to music.

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