Why the Dog is Staring

Here is a short story about my pet dog, Lucy. She has the strange habit of staring at me. Using her eyes, she tells me what she wants me to do.

It was a bright morning though the curtains were drawn. She pawed at the bed sheets and when I didn’t respond, she whimpered.

“Wake up, lazy!” she cried, “I’m hungry and want a walk!”

My eyes opened to a grey snout touching my cheek. Her tailed wagged. I sat up and she leapt off the bed. Her paws thumped against the carpet.

She looked to me then the door as if to say let’s go already. When I flopped back to sleep, she grunted.

“Get up!” she barked.


Eventually, we made our way to the kitchen. With a push of a button, I brewed some coffee.  The Bailey’s Irish Cream in the fridge beckoned me.

As I took a seat, I glanced at my phone: 8:30 am. It was late and I had an interview today. Her eyes were on me again, she wanted my food.

“It’s just coffee,” I said to her.


Using my teeth, I uncorked the wine from last night. Droplets splattered onto the kitchen floor. As she licked up the red wine, I was reminded of the adage of how dogs resemble their owners. I now stood there wondering if it applied to behavior as well.

I took a seat and ate dinner. Her paws touched the cushion of my seat. She didn’t cry, but those big eyes were desperate as though she’d gone all day unfed.

“Chubby puppy,” I said.

Later while washing up I heard a noise, scratch, scratch, scratch. Once again, we locked eyes. She wagged her tail, it was walk time.

I often find that I am as much her human as she is my dog.


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