The Trouble With Bernie

It's a Dog's Life - 4

... That’s it, Weezer decided. He jumped to his feet, went to the front door and barked furiously until Mrs. Jones opened the door and let him out.

Ah! Freedom! He loved it! He dashed into the spring afternoon, completely cleansed of his encounters with the cat and the noisy machine. Once again the day was new, and off he went, to see what the neighborhood dogs were up to.

The squirrel commotion was over for the time being, and Streak, the German Shepherd from down the block, was now digging a hole in Mr. Cornelius’s apple orchard. Weezer stopped and gave him a little yip, to ask what he was doing.

“Oh, just diggin’ a hole,” Streak answered with an abbreviated bark.

“Buryin’ somethin’ or diggin’ it up?” Weezer asked.

Streak stopped, let his tongue flop out the side of his mouth, and answered honestly, “Gosh ... ah’m not sure, ah guess ah’m just ... diggin.” To Weezer or any other dog, it was a perfectly reasonable answer. It was enough just to dig; you didn’t need to know why. Anyway, Weezer was only asking to be polite. Streak went back to his work and Weezer went on his way.

Rex, the terrier that lived next door, was sitting attentively on his porch, watching the swallows that flew in and out of the birdhouse. Rex was by nature a barker, and since his family was gone for the day, he took this opportunity to bark at each and every bird that flew by. Weezer felt the urge to stop awhile and bark in sympathy, but he kept going, his tail held high, his nails click click clicking on the sidewalk. Suddenly he stopped and listened. It was the Cunningham’s Chihuahua, King George, barking out the news: he had captured a squirrel!

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