Tag: Pet Humor

  • Squishy Boy: A Love Letter to My Gentle Dog

    Squishy Boy: A Love Letter to My Gentle Dog

    The other day, I wrote a poem called Ghost in the Wiggles about Dempsey and his lingering spirit. As I reflected on Dempsey’s story, I realized Surley deserved his own tribute, too. Unlike Dempsey, Surley is my “squishy boy”—not because of his size, but because of his soft and tender spirit. He’s a dog who needs the world to be gentle, who thrives on a calm voice and a soft touch.

    Living with a soft dog like Surley has been both a lesson and a gift. He’s taught me to breathe before the storm, to find patience when frustration blooms. This poem, Squishy Boy, is a love letter to his delicate heart. It is also about the journey we’ve shared to understand each other.

    Squishy Boy

    You are my squishy boy.
    Not fat—just tender.
    Your blonde hair, soft as your heart.

    You are my squishy boy.
    I must handle you with care—
    a soft touch, a soft voice.
    Sometimes, that’s not easy.

    You are my squishy boy.
    In the beginning, frustration bloomed.
    The TV volume rose and fell—
    a ghost in the remote.

    I fought with it,
    tried to keep the world gentle,
    so the noise wouldn’t hurt you.

    I wasn’t mad at you—
    but you thought I was.

    You are my squishy boy.
    You sought safety,
    curled up with him, not me.
    It hurt. It still hurts.
    I was only trying to protect you.

    You are my squishy boy.
    I learned early on—
    sudden sounds could startle you,
    prickle your gentle spirit.

    I only wanted to protect you,
    but you misunderstood my frustration.

    You are my squishy boy.
    You have taught me to temper my rage,
    to breathe before the storm.

    You are my squishy boy.
    You must always carry something—
    from first light to bedtime.

    Your turtles, soft and worn,
    are never far from your mouth.
    They give you strength,
    a comfort you can hold.

    You bring them to bed when I let you,
    tucking them close as we curl up,
    safe and snug together.

    You are my squishy boy.
    You crave reassurance,
    always near me, on me.
    At first, it felt like too much, suffocating,
    but now, it feels sweet.

    I am your rock.
    I am your safe space.
    And you—
    you are my squishy boy.

  • Kalo’s Ninth Life: A Cat’s Perspective on Dogs and Destiny

    Kalo’s Ninth Life: A Cat’s Perspective on Dogs and Destiny

    Dogs—you can’t live with them, and you can’t live without them.

    Kalo the cat had been living with Surley for over a year now, ever since the silly human on wheels brought the dog home. From the moment Surley arrived, Kalo knew he was going to have to put up with this big, clunky creature.

    The Dog Problem

    This wasn’t the first dog Kalo had to endure. The one before, Dempsey, had been just as bad—loud, clumsy, and completely unaware of personal space. When Dempsey was gone, Kalo had the house to himself for a blissful year, but then Surley arrived, shattering his peace. Dogs never seemed to learn. They stomped around without watching where they were going, their massive paws a constant threat. And when they got excited, whatever few brain cells they had seemed to vanish entirely.

    From the very first visit, Kalo knew Surley would be trouble. This dog was unlike any he’d seen before. Yes, he seemed like a better working dog than Dempsey, but he always had something in his mouth—his favorite blue turtle, a bone, or whatever else he could find. Kalo feared the day Surley might decide he looked like a chew toy.

    Surley also loved playing fetch. The humans would throw almost anything, and the dog would chase it. If the ball bounced, Surley would leap into the air and catch it mid-flight. Watching Surley’s obsession with fetching gave Kalo an idea—one that could rid him of the dog once and for all.

    Putting the Plan into Action

    The human who frequently stepped on Kalo was gone for the day. Good riddance. That one constantly yelled at him for being on the table or getting in the way. What the human didn’t realize was that Kalo was actively working on getting rid of him, too. The human made him earn his tiny can of wet food every morning. The audacity.

    With that human gone, it was just Kalo, Surley, and the human on wheels. That human never left Surley home alone with Kalo—not for long, anyway. Either Surley was with him, or he was locked away in what Kalo called doggy jail.

    Kalo suspected the human knew the truth: if given the chance, Kalo would absolutely take out the dog. The only time he ever left the two alone was when he had to run downstairs for a quick errand.

    Today was that day.

    As the human wheeled out of the apartment to retrieve a package (hopefully something for him for once), Kalo put his plan into motion. The window was open, and the weather was nice. Surley’s ball, recently used in another endless round of fetch, sat conveniently on the coffee table.

    Perfect.

    Kalo batted the ball with casual interest, knowing it would grab Surley’s attention. The dog, ever the fool, perked up immediately. Finally, the cat wants to play!

    Kalo knocked the ball toward the window.

    Surley launched after it.

    The ball hit the window screen and tumbled through. Just as Kalo had predicted, the dumb dog lunged after it without hesitation.

    The Moment of Truth

    For a moment, time seemed to freeze. Surley’s goofy, horrified face was suspended in midair, just like those silly cartoons with the fast bird and the clueless coyote. His paws flailed, scrabbling against empty air. Then, instinct kicked in. He twisted just in time to catch the window sill with his front paws, his back legs kicking desperately.

    Kalo sat on the coffee table, tail twitching, watching Surley struggle. “This is it. No more being stepped on. No more drool-covered toys. No more giant oaf knocking over everything in his path.”

    Then something strange happened. A feeling Kalo had never experienced before crept in.

    Guilt.

    He remembered the humans’ sadness when Spaz, the other cat, had gotten sick. He remembered how heartbroken the human on wheels had been when Dempsey passed away. For an entire year, the human had been lost in grief. Kalo had felt their sorrow, and though he’d never admit it, he had wished there was a way to make it go away.

    If Surley fell, the humans would feel that same pain all over again.

    Kalo groaned. “This is going to cost me.

    Kalo’s Ninth Life: A Cat’s Sacrifice

    Cats had nine lives. Humans joked about it, but if they only knew the truth. It was rare for a cat to use one, but this situation called for something drastic.

    Kalo slowed his breathing, calming his heart rate until the world itself seemed to slow. Then, he reached deep within himself, feeling the delicate thread of time. He grasped one of his lives and began unraveling the ball of fate.

    Even with his eyes closed, he could feel what was happening. Time reversed. The ball flew backward through the air, re-entering the apartment. Surley’s paws moved in reverse, dragging him safely back inside. When Kalo opened his eyes, Surley was sitting next to him, looking slightly dazed but unharmed.

    Exhausted, Kalo stumbled off the coffee table. Right before he passed out, he felt Surley curl around him, warm and protective, just as the door opened and the human returned.

    As Kalo drifted into unconsciousness, one thought crossed his mind.

    Maybe the dog wasn’t so bad after all.


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