| General Fiction posted March 14, 2017 | Chapters: |
...6 7 -8- 9... 
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The boys spend a few nights in a kennel
A chapter in the book 2018 Bernie and Howie Stories
Doggy Jail
by Mustang Patty
Only a glimpse of light could be seen out in the long hallway. The bedding on the hard cement floor didn't feel anything like the cozy couch at home. It was too dangerous to think about the bed. He may just start howling and that would wake up Bernie. The noise that little dog could make would only echo on the walls, and hurt his ears.
Howie's dark brown doggy eyes reflected the small amount of light and he glanced through criss-crossed bars and tried to find something to focus on. Across the way, there was a screen like the one the Mistress had. If he tried, he could almost see her sitting in the chair and tapping her fingers on the flat board underneath. With a deep sigh, he remembered all the early morning hours he had spent cuddled next to her bare feet listening to those tap, tap, taps.
A deep yawn led to him licking his white front paws, Howie couldn't believe the Mistress had left him and Bernie in this jail. It didn't seem that there was anything wrong. He heard her talk into the flat black box, and then she went to the bottom drawer in the cupboard and got out the long black straps that attached to what she called their clothes. The Mistress's hands were always so soothing when she slipped the black thing that went over his head and had a strap that went around his chest. Lovingly, she lifted his left paw and secured the piece going under his leg. Lastly, she gently tugged the length of his ears free. Patting his head before she went to strap Bernie in, she started talking to both.
Howie didn't understand all the words, but he could hear the sad tone in the Mistress's voice. He knew Bernie and he were getting to take a ride in the car and go somewhere. Usually, this was a special treat, but something was causing a bad feeling in Howie's heart of hearts. He lay on the backseat with his head on his paws for the entire ride.
A loud noise pulled him back to his present predicament. Bernie was snoring his head off. Laying on his side, with the lion's share of the measly blanket provided in this cell, he slept like the dead. How on earth could he sleep? Although, he had been up and awake for most of the day. He didn't seem to realize that his barks were mostly ignored in this place. Oh, the people were nice enough. Walks and plenty of food and water were offered, but no matter how sweetly the jailers spoke, they simply weren't the Mistress or Master.
Howie finally started falling asleep. Feeling his toes and whiskers twitch, he drifted off. He was bone tired from worrying all day. This was the second night spent in this jail cell. He tried and tried to think of why the Mistress had brought them here. What could he have done wrong? Or was it that rascal, Bernie?
As he slept, he slipped into a dream. The dream was filled with happiness. The Master was coming home from work. The front door opened and there he stood with his lunchbox in hand. The smell of the outdoors lingered around him, and he came in with the breeze and wet from outside. Howie's tail wagged furiously and he voiced his ecstatic greeting, "Master was home, Master was home!"
Moaning in his sleep, Howie woke himself up. The room was flooded with light, and the people were coming to bring food and fresh water. Howie loved fresh water. The stale water didn't seem to quench his thirst as well, and he wagged his tail in greeting, in spite of himself.
Bernie sprang to life as the door to their jail cell opened. The people cooed their names after checking the sign on the outside of the door. There were comments on the food from yesterday that still filled the dish, but new food was still given. They patted each of the dogs on the head, and offered good hugs. The proffered treats were supposed to help calm them.
Howie snarled at Bernie. He dared to enjoy the meager attention given by these people. Howie could only crave the attention of his people, and he longed for a caress from the Mistress.
Wait! The people were telling him something about going home. Howie's tail began to wag. There's a word he completely understood. Home!
"When? When?" he barked in earnest, but the people couldn't understand his doggy language. Prancing on his front paws, he decided to appeal to their senses. He stood up on his hind legs, and raised his front paws in appeal. The Mistress always called this 'Pretty feet,' and he thought surely the people would understand he was asking for information.
"Your owner will be here soon," one of the people said. Soon! Soon! Howie could hardly contain his excitement. He went over to Bernie and gave him a good-natured snarl. At the invitation to play, Bernie's feet stretched out in front of him, and his tail end was high in the air. They started to run around in circles allowed by the cage's width. With each lap, Howie tugged on Bernie's ear, or nipped at his side. Bernie responded with a bark and an open mouth grab to Howie's side. They were having so much fun, they paid no attention to the opening of the door.
There was one of the people holding their black straps! Standing still, they allowed the contraptions to be pulled over their heads, and fastened under their chests. Patiently, they allowed the hooks to click into place.
Leading them out to the main lobby was an easier chore than getting them back to the kennels. The same girl that put them into the jail cell was now holding the end of their straps. She was bringing them out into the bright sunlight shining through the solarium windows.
There she was! She was standing there with a big smile on her face. Bending down to greet them both, the Mistress kept saying, "My babies. My good boys, oh how I missed you!"
Standing with his paws planted on her lower legs, Howie licked her hands with enthusiasm. He had to fight for her attention with the ever-present Bernie, but for once, he didn't really mind. Howie grinned from ear to ear.
Tugging on their straps, the Mistress called out, "Let's go home, boys."
They were going home to the comfy couch, and later the big and soft bed.
Only a glimpse of light could be seen out in the long hallway. The bedding on the hard cement floor didn't feel anything like the cozy couch at home. It was too dangerous to think about the bed. He may just start howling and that would wake up Bernie. The noise that little dog could make would only echo on the walls, and hurt his ears.
Howie's dark brown doggy eyes reflected the small amount of light and he glanced through criss-crossed bars and tried to find something to focus on. Across the way, there was a screen like the one the Mistress had. If he tried, he could almost see her sitting in the chair and tapping her fingers on the flat board underneath. With a deep sigh, he remembered all the early morning hours he had spent cuddled next to her bare feet listening to those tap, tap, taps.
A deep yawn led to him licking his white front paws, Howie couldn't believe the Mistress had left him and Bernie in this jail. It didn't seem that there was anything wrong. He heard her talk into the flat black box, and then she went to the bottom drawer in the cupboard and got out the long black straps that attached to what she called their clothes. The Mistress's hands were always so soothing when she slipped the black thing that went over his head and had a strap that went around his chest. Lovingly, she lifted his left paw and secured the piece going under his leg. Lastly, she gently tugged the length of his ears free. Patting his head before she went to strap Bernie in, she started talking to both.
Howie didn't understand all the words, but he could hear the sad tone in the Mistress's voice. He knew Bernie and he were getting to take a ride in the car and go somewhere. Usually, this was a special treat, but something was causing a bad feeling in Howie's heart of hearts. He lay on the backseat with his head on his paws for the entire ride.
A loud noise pulled him back to his present predicament. Bernie was snoring his head off. Laying on his side, with the lion's share of the measly blanket provided in this cell, he slept like the dead. How on earth could he sleep? Although, he had been up and awake for most of the day. He didn't seem to realize that his barks were mostly ignored in this place. Oh, the people were nice enough. Walks and plenty of food and water were offered, but no matter how sweetly the jailers spoke, they simply weren't the Mistress or Master.
Howie finally started falling asleep. Feeling his toes and whiskers twitch, he drifted off. He was bone tired from worrying all day. This was the second night spent in this jail cell. He tried and tried to think of why the Mistress had brought them here. What could he have done wrong? Or was it that rascal, Bernie?
As he slept, he slipped into a dream. The dream was filled with happiness. The Master was coming home from work. The front door opened and there he stood with his lunchbox in hand. The smell of the outdoors lingered around him, and he came in with the breeze and wet from outside. Howie's tail wagged furiously and he voiced his ecstatic greeting, "Master was home, Master was home!"
Moaning in his sleep, Howie woke himself up. The room was flooded with light, and the people were coming to bring food and fresh water. Howie loved fresh water. The stale water didn't seem to quench his thirst as well, and he wagged his tail in greeting, in spite of himself.
Bernie sprang to life as the door to their jail cell opened. The people cooed their names after checking the sign on the outside of the door. There were comments on the food from yesterday that still filled the dish, but new food was still given. They patted each of the dogs on the head, and offered good hugs. The proffered treats were supposed to help calm them.
Howie snarled at Bernie. He dared to enjoy the meager attention given by these people. Howie could only crave the attention of his people, and he longed for a caress from the Mistress.
Wait! The people were telling him something about going home. Howie's tail began to wag. There's a word he completely understood. Home!
"When? When?" he barked in earnest, but the people couldn't understand his doggy language. Prancing on his front paws, he decided to appeal to their senses. He stood up on his hind legs, and raised his front paws in appeal. The Mistress always called this 'Pretty feet,' and he thought surely the people would understand he was asking for information.
"Your owner will be here soon," one of the people said. Soon! Soon! Howie could hardly contain his excitement. He went over to Bernie and gave him a good-natured snarl. At the invitation to play, Bernie's feet stretched out in front of him, and his tail end was high in the air. They started to run around in circles allowed by the cage's width. With each lap, Howie tugged on Bernie's ear, or nipped at his side. Bernie responded with a bark and an open mouth grab to Howie's side. They were having so much fun, they paid no attention to the opening of the door.
There was one of the people holding their black straps! Standing still, they allowed the contraptions to be pulled over their heads, and fastened under their chests. Patiently, they allowed the hooks to click into place.
Leading them out to the main lobby was an easier chore than getting them back to the kennels. The same girl that put them into the jail cell was now holding the end of their straps. She was bringing them out into the bright sunlight shining through the solarium windows.
There she was! She was standing there with a big smile on her face. Bending down to greet them both, the Mistress kept saying, "My babies. My good boys, oh how I missed you!"
Standing with his paws planted on her lower legs, Howie licked her hands with enthusiasm. He had to fight for her attention with the ever-present Bernie, but for once, he didn't really mind. Howie grinned from ear to ear.
Tugging on their straps, the Mistress called out, "Let's go home, boys."
They were going home to the comfy couch, and later the big and soft bed.
Howie's dark brown doggy eyes reflected the small amount of light and he glanced through criss-crossed bars and tried to find something to focus on. Across the way, there was a screen like the one the Mistress had. If he tried, he could almost see her sitting in the chair and tapping her fingers on the flat board underneath. With a deep sigh, he remembered all the early morning hours he had spent cuddled next to her bare feet listening to those tap, tap, taps.
A deep yawn led to him licking his white front paws, Howie couldn't believe the Mistress had left him and Bernie in this jail. It didn't seem that there was anything wrong. He heard her talk into the flat black box, and then she went to the bottom drawer in the cupboard and got out the long black straps that attached to what she called their clothes. The Mistress's hands were always so soothing when she slipped the black thing that went over his head and had a strap that went around his chest. Lovingly, she lifted his left paw and secured the piece going under his leg. Lastly, she gently tugged the length of his ears free. Patting his head before she went to strap Bernie in, she started talking to both.
Howie didn't understand all the words, but he could hear the sad tone in the Mistress's voice. He knew Bernie and he were getting to take a ride in the car and go somewhere. Usually, this was a special treat, but something was causing a bad feeling in Howie's heart of hearts. He lay on the backseat with his head on his paws for the entire ride.
A loud noise pulled him back to his present predicament. Bernie was snoring his head off. Laying on his side, with the lion's share of the measly blanket provided in this cell, he slept like the dead. How on earth could he sleep? Although, he had been up and awake for most of the day. He didn't seem to realize that his barks were mostly ignored in this place. Oh, the people were nice enough. Walks and plenty of food and water were offered, but no matter how sweetly the jailers spoke, they simply weren't the Mistress or Master.
Howie finally started falling asleep. Feeling his toes and whiskers twitch, he drifted off. He was bone tired from worrying all day. This was the second night spent in this jail cell. He tried and tried to think of why the Mistress had brought them here. What could he have done wrong? Or was it that rascal, Bernie?
As he slept, he slipped into a dream. The dream was filled with happiness. The Master was coming home from work. The front door opened and there he stood with his lunchbox in hand. The smell of the outdoors lingered around him, and he came in with the breeze and wet from outside. Howie's tail wagged furiously and he voiced his ecstatic greeting, "Master was home, Master was home!"
Moaning in his sleep, Howie woke himself up. The room was flooded with light, and the people were coming to bring food and fresh water. Howie loved fresh water. The stale water didn't seem to quench his thirst as well, and he wagged his tail in greeting, in spite of himself.
Bernie sprang to life as the door to their jail cell opened. The people cooed their names after checking the sign on the outside of the door. There were comments on the food from yesterday that still filled the dish, but new food was still given. They patted each of the dogs on the head, and offered good hugs. The proffered treats were supposed to help calm them.
Howie snarled at Bernie. He dared to enjoy the meager attention given by these people. Howie could only crave the attention of his people, and he longed for a caress from the Mistress.
Wait! The people were telling him something about going home. Howie's tail began to wag. There's a word he completely understood. Home!
"When? When?" he barked in earnest, but the people couldn't understand his doggy language. Prancing on his front paws, he decided to appeal to their senses. He stood up on his hind legs, and raised his front paws in appeal. The Mistress always called this 'Pretty feet,' and he thought surely the people would understand he was asking for information.
"Your owner will be here soon," one of the people said. Soon! Soon! Howie could hardly contain his excitement. He went over to Bernie and gave him a good-natured snarl. At the invitation to play, Bernie's feet stretched out in front of him, and his tail end was high in the air. They started to run around in circles allowed by the cage's width. With each lap, Howie tugged on Bernie's ear, or nipped at his side. Bernie responded with a bark and an open mouth grab to Howie's side. They were having so much fun, they paid no attention to the opening of the door.
There was one of the people holding their black straps! Standing still, they allowed the contraptions to be pulled over their heads, and fastened under their chests. Patiently, they allowed the hooks to click into place.
Leading them out to the main lobby was an easier chore than getting them back to the kennels. The same girl that put them into the jail cell was now holding the end of their straps. She was bringing them out into the bright sunlight shining through the solarium windows.
There she was! She was standing there with a big smile on her face. Bending down to greet them both, the Mistress kept saying, "My babies. My good boys, oh how I missed you!"
Standing with his paws planted on her lower legs, Howie licked her hands with enthusiasm. He had to fight for her attention with the ever-present Bernie, but for once, he didn't really mind. Howie grinned from ear to ear.
Tugging on their straps, the Mistress called out, "Let's go home, boys."
They were going home to the comfy couch, and later the big and soft bed.
 Recognized |
|
I needed to go to the dentist for a three hour appointment on Monday morning, so the Hubby and I dropped the boys at the vet's kennel for the weekend. Since Bernie is suffering from separation anxiety, we needed to have a safe place for them to spend some time without angering our neighbors with incessant barking. I found myself worrying all of the time - even though we got to go out to dinner and take in a movie without worrying about the dogs.
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