A Real Lab

Copyright © 1997 Walt Zientek


The man shot straight up in bed.

"What's the date?" he thought.

His feet hit the cold hardwood floor and he stumbled downstairs to the
kitchen with the big yellow dog close behind.

"Ow!" he muttered as he banged his knee against the kitchen cabinet.

He flicked on the overhead lights and squinted in pain as the lights shot
bright spikes into his eyes.

"Jeez, that kills," he mumbled as he rubbed his eyelids.

The big dog just sat calmly and observed this early morning slapstick.

The man moved slowly around the side of the refrigerator to the place
where the calendar was kept and stepped into the dogs' water bowl,
drenching his foot and ankles and spilling water all over the floor.

"Damn!" he thought, as he searched for some paper towels to clean the
mess, leaving great, wet footprints across the kitchen tiles.

"Here they are!" he muttered as he reached for the towels, slipped on
a wet spot and fell ungracefully onto the kitchen floor beside the dog.

The yellow boy looked at the man and licked his cheek.

The man slowly eased himself up and carefully walked over to check
the date on the calendar.

Empty! The place where the calendar was always hanging, was empty!

"Newspaper!" he thought, as he ran around behind the table to the place
where the newspapers were kept.

"Gone! Out with the recycling!" he remembered.

He turned and hooked his little toe around the leg of the kitchen chair.

"Ah Ahh Ahhh!" he yelled as he hopped about the kitchen on one foot
while holding the other in both hands.

The dog stood up and happily wagged his tail, delighted by such a show.

The man eventually limped to the coffee pot and poured a strong cup of
Colombian into a mug with the dog's likeness on the side. He sipped
for several minutes and let his brain catch up with the rest of him.

The big dog gently sniffed at the man's purple toe.

With a clearer head and slightly less sore body, the man went into the
den and turned on the computer. "December, 29, 1998" it said. The man
smiled and nodded and turned to look at the yellow dog sitting so calmly
nearby, watching his every move.

"Happy Third Birthday, Caleb Tucker," the man said as he slid down onto
floor beside the dog.

The dog nuzzled his cheek against the man's chest as the man wrapped
his long arms around the dog's strong shoulders.

"Happy Birthday, Big Guy. You're a real Lab today."


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Last modified: 8-19-2000

Page Copyright © 1997-2000 Walt Zientek <WZW@aol.com>