Pickiness

Zuzu is a very picky eater. Even though she is a dog, she doesn't like her dog food. If we try to give her plain dog food, she won't eat it. She just looks at us like "Seriously?" So, we have to mix in leftover turkey or ham. She is ridiculous.

Doggy Adventures

A little over a month ago, my sister was home alone and saw a black lab walking around our neighborhood. Not seeing any license or collar, she assumed it was a stray and brought it into our house. She fed it some of Zuzus' food while she waited for my mom to get home so she could show her the stray. When my mom got home, she recognized the dog as the pet a family that lives a few houses away. She called his family, and someone came to pick the dog up.

Unfortunately, this dog seems to have fallen in love with our dog food. He has shown up at our doorstep several times since my sister fed him. He always whines outside of our front door and scratches at it, until we call his family to come pick him up.

Today, he showed up once again. It was pretty early in the morning, and my father and I were the only ones home. I called his family and told my dad to leave him outside and they would pick him up soon.

"But look at him." My dad protested. "We should bring him inside until they get here."

My dad opened the door, but before he could call the dog inside, Zuzu burst out the open door. Both dogs bounded away.

Barefooted, in our pajamas and bathrobes, my dad and I ran out the door after Zuzu. Excited by her friend and her freedom she bounded down the street, ignoring our calls. We chased her down the street and into the woods behind our house. After running around in the woods for a minute, she grew tired of her adventure. I called her and she came to me. I took her back inside. I then called the other dogs family and told them he wasn't here anymore, but that he had run in the direction of there house so they should see him soon. All is well that ends well.

Dinner

Besides Zuzu, we have three cats. These cats like to sit by my dad's chair every night at dinner, because he always surreptitiously drops food on the floor for them. My mom hates when my dad feeds the pets from the table. The cats have gotten very good at sneaking over to my dad's chair without my mom noticing. They pad silently under the table, and wait until he pushes some meat off his plate.

Zuzu noticed this, and she tries to be like the cats so she will get food. Unfortunately, she is about three times as big as the cats and a billion times less sneaky. She can't fit between the chairs, and so she has to plod around the table to get to my dad's chair. Alas, she always gets caught by my mother before she can get any food. Such is the fate of the big and noisy dog.

Thunderstorms

It rained today. Not a thunderstorm, just rain. Zuzu is terrified of thunderstorms. I was going to write a blog post about Zuzu's fear of thunder, but then I remembered that I actually wrote a poem about it last year for a class. The assignment had been to write a poem starting with "I heard the sound of a thunder, it roared out a warning" (We had been learning about Bob Dylan.) I do not really consider myself a poet, but I do have a fondness for rhyming things. Here is the poem I wrote:



I Heard the Sound of a Thunder, it Roared out a Warning



I heard the sound of a thunder, it roared out a warning.

The power went out in my room.

I doubted that it would be back on ‘til morning.

The house shook with a mighty “boom”.




I felt so alone, my family was out,

I curled up in a ball on my bed.

Though I knew they were safe, I still felt some doubt,

my stomach was knotted with dread.




A whimper was followed by a scratch on my door.

I made my way toward the sound,

trying not to trip on the clothes on my floor

or the textbooks that covered the ground.




I opened the door and Zuzu was there

she lay on the floor made of wood.

I could tell that she had had quite a scare,

for she seemed to be stuck there for good.




I pulled on her collar, she lept to the bed.

I lay down there next to to her.

I soothed her, petting her body and head,

and I smoothed her ruffled fur.




With her next to me I didn’t feel cold,

nor did the storm seem so frightening.

While it cannot be said I felt super bold,

I no longer screamed at the lightning.




I heard the sound of a thunder it roared out this warning:

“It may seem the storm will not end,

the lightning will flash, the rain will be pouring,

so it’s better to face with a friend.”