Writing for Fun
August 2018
Bucket List - Jan Norman
I wheezed and waddled as fast as my legs could carry me to the front door step. There I stopped trying to catch my breath.
'Hey steady on old boy, the Devil's not after us yet.' Laughing, Bill reached forward and unlocked the door. The key had barely been removed before I shouldered the door open wide enough for me to squeeze in. Bill followed at a more leisurely pace.
Leaving him to hang up his coat and my lead I aimed for the kitchen. A drink, that's what I desperately needed. I took several huge gulps of lovely cold water then with jowls dripping staggered into the living room and flopped down beside Bill's armchair. Heaving a huge sigh of relief I laid my weary head upon my paws. Not too weary though for me, a few minutes later, to be sitting up and begging as Bill walked across the room and sat down with a cup of tea and a plate of biscuits.
Bill grinned. 'Ok I guess you've earned it,' and two biscuits came my way. 'Neither of us is getting any younger and that was a fair old walk. I know they say exercise is supposed to be good for us but now it's time for a rest and some easy TV. Oh look, the film The Bucket List is just about to start. That'll be good. It says here that it's all about two old codgers in adjacent hospital beds, terminally ill, talking of all the things they would have liked to have done before they died and then deciding what have they got to lose by leaving the hospital and trying to achieve these wishes in the few weeks or months they have left.'
He carried on chatting out loud about his own bucket list as he pressed the remote. Soon his voice was stilled as the film began.
I watched the screen with half an eye but my eyelids were drooping with tiredness but still I could not help pondering Bill's words. What humans don't realize is that us canines not only understand odd words like 'walkies' and 'treats' but nearly all that is spoken to us or others in the near vicinity. Dogs cannot live in the same house with humans for years without picking up their language. The only problem is that we can't make conversation.
Mmm, what would I put on my own Bucket List I wondered? Oh I know, Fifi, the glamorous poodle next door; what I wouldn't give for half an hour in the same garden as her! Trouble was she was guarded more heavily than a bank vault. What else? It had to be sausages, one of Bill's favourite foods. He often cooked a whole packet at a time and left some on a dish on the counter ready to eat the next day in a sandwich. I would normally never dream of stealing them but if I knew my days were numbered? I wonder.
Oh yes that's it. Two things that would really make me smile if I could pull them off before I pegged it. I would love to manage to do the biggest smelliest trump when Bill next had company and then pointedly move away from his chair whimpering and looking accusingly up at him to get my own back for the numerous times he had dropped one and loudly blamed me for it. But the icing on the cake would be paying back the vet for all the untold misery and pain he has caused me to suffer over the years. I was getting decrepit but there was nothing wrong with my teeth. I gave the doggy equivalent of a smile and dreamt on.
I awoke the next morning and yawned. It was time to get to my feet and wake Bill for my early morning constitutional around the garden and of course to relieve myself; couldn't hold it so long these days. Hey, what was wrong? I couldn't seem to stand up. My back legs had gone. I couldn't move them. Help me. I whined loudly then barked and barked frantically trying to stand but failing miserably.
Bill rushed in and saw my plight. What he did next did not reassure me. He crooned softly telling me everything was going to be alright but at the same time brushing away tears from his eyes. He then quickly fetched the dreaded dog carrier and placed me gently inside after wiping away the urine from my nether regions; urine that I did not know I had passed. This was not good.
I knew what the verdict would be. As the vet examined me I ran through my Bucket List. It was too late now for Fifi; too late for sausages but the other two? I concentrated hard for a moment then triumphantly brought forth the loudest, smelliest trump of my life whilst looking accusingly over my shoulder at Bill. Yes, it worked, the vet sidled away from Bill coughing and wiping his eyes but he soon recovered enough to fill a syringe and then literally began to move in for the kill. It was now or never. I smiled my doggy sort of smile, licked Bill's restraining hand then lunged forward with jaws wide open watching the dawning horror on the vet's face.
Bucket List accomplished.