A Walk to Forget

            It was finally Monday, best day of the week.  I had work pilling up from last week and on top of that I had some more.  I should just call in sick… no I better get up.  As I roll over, I hear an incessant buzz coming from outside my room, “one and two and three, keep it going ladies.”  She’s at it again.  I get up and take a shower, letting the water run, the beads of water bubbling on my body as if I were coated with wax.  Refreshed and smelling confident I get ready for the workday. Shirt tucked, tie adjusted, and shoes polished I’m ready for another slice at the office.  I even had my favorite companion waiting for me. 

            “How you doing my fierce warrior,” I say to my pet Chihuahua Nacho who was about two years old.  I bought him for Betty because I thought it would be nice for her to have some company when I was off at work, but it seems I’m the one who actually cares for him. 

            Barking, biting, and clawing at my ankles it looks as if he was trying to take me down.  Cute little thing, always messing around with me, I guess the little guy loves me that much.  I pick him up and kiss him on the head. 

            “Grr… is my mighty warrior hungry?  Don’t worry, you know I always feed you before I go to work,” I say as I walk out of the room with him.  “And I should probably give you a shower after I get back from work, you’re getting a little crusty.” 

            Nacho gets me. He’s always there when I need to talk to somebody.  Even if he can’t actually answer back, at least he was there and didn’t judge me this way or that way.  I could confide anything to him and not worry.  I could tell him that I hope to get that promotion soon and move and have a better life without the false appraisals from Betty or anyone else saying, “Don’t worry, you’ll get it.”

            As I walked through the hallway, I began readjusting the pictures hanging up on the wall. Betty never puts them back the way they originally were after she cleans them. I mean is it really that difficult to put them back the way they’re supposed to be?  Guess so.  I finally reach the living room and see Betty sprawled on the floor panting like a beached whale on the sand.

            “You okay there Shamoo?”  I say.

            “Hey, don’t call me that… you jerk.  For your information I’m doing this for you,” she says rolling over to her right side.

            “Yea okay, well I didn’t tell you to go overboard either, all I said was for you to start eating healthier if you want to lose weight.” I put Nacho down and move closer to Betty.         

            “Here, grab my hand so I can help you up… You look like a pregnant chick all bed ridden-like, and I like how you scented the room with your salty musk.”

            “You’re so mean to me… I don’t have musk… I still love you though,” she says as she gives me a wink. 

            “Yea yea, I bet you do.  So is my breakfast ready?”  I ask as I heave her up from the ground. 

            “Hey… You don’t love me?”  She says pouting. 

            “Yea, yea, I love you; quit acting like a baby, geez.  Anyways, breakfast.”

            “Breakfast?  I thought you said you were going to pick something up this morning so that’s why I had time to work out longer?” 

            She always does this.  She always has to be so damn forgetful.  She always has to jabber afterwards too. She’s not going to be quiet.  I guess I could try and go get some food I might have time.  I pick Nacho up again and give him another kiss.

            “Daddy’s going to go to work now, you stay here and be good… maybe you could make me breakfast tomorrow.  Oh hey Betty, could you feed him for me, I don’t want to be late.  Oh, and make sure that he gets his exercise, take him out for a walk or something.” 

            “Yea sure… you’re not mad at me though are you…? I’m sorry, wait here for a little bit I’ll whip something up real quick,” she says speed walking towards the kitchen.

            “Don’t worry about it, I’ll just pick something up,” I say as I’m almost out the door.

            “No seriously, the stove is already heating up, just wait a second.”

            “Don’t worry, have to go… bye,” I say waving and walking the rest of my body out of the door.

            “I love you,” she says.

            “Yea, me too… and I love you Nacho.”     

***

            Okay good, he didn’t seem to be in that bad of a mood this morning.  It is Monday, so I assume he has a lot of work to start on and finish.  I want to make sure to clean up so he has a nice clean house to come home to.  First, I should take a shower, and then I’ll do the kitchen and then laundry.  I wonder if he’s been noticing that my working out is making a difference.  I think my quads are coming in quite nicely. I’ve been working out for a whole three weeks now, there has to be some sort of difference. 

            The things I do for this man. 

            I wish he had said he loved me, I love him so much that I practically kill myself every morning to look good for him, and for what, for him to get mad because I didn’t make him his breakfast. He even said he loved the damn dog.  I should have thought about making breakfast, I could have woken up earlier and then I wouldn’t have had this problem.   

            I hear Nacho barking in the hallway before running over to lick my ankle. 

            “Quit it, I don’t want your slobber all over me.”

            I walk towards the kitchen to throw my shirt and shorts in the laundry. Then I decide to take my shower, but once again Nacho starts up with his persistent barking. 

            “Why can’t you ever be quiet for one minute you damn dog?”  I ask.  Ever since Bret bought him, he’s just been a nuisance, always making noise and just getting in the way.  And he even treats the damn thing like it’s his child or something. 

            “I love you Nacho.” Pft.  Why?  He’s so ugly: his Beady eyes and rat-like ears look like they’re melted to his head.  His anorexic body and the way he’s always shaking; why did he think I wanted a Chihuahua?  I told him I like small dogs, but small cute dogs, not a domesticated rat.  I stop Nacho from licking my ankle by picking him up.  He looks at me with his small head and big eyes and his involuntary shaking and I look at him and wonder… if Nacho ended up missing maybe Bret would think he just ran away.  I could take him for a nice little drive and drop him off somewhere; there would be no way Nacho could get back here, he’d probably be eaten by rabid squirrels or killed by a cat.  Or maybe I could just give him away, he’s still young enough to adapt to other people caring for him.  Oh, or maybe I could just stop feeding him.  As I contemplated the life path of Nacho, I set him down in the backyard with some food and water and go to take a shower.  After allowing the cold stream to soothe me I finish up and go to get dressed so I can finish the chores I promised myself I would do.  I go to the kitchen and grab the Lysol and a rag from beneath the sink.  As I spray and allow the chemical ecstasy to take me away, the artificial fragrance of pine swelling throughout the kitchen, I’m interrupted by Nacho’s scratching and barking. 

            “That’s it Nacho, I’ve had enough of you.  I didn’t want to but screw it; you’re just too fucking annoying.”  I pick up the keys from the counter and slip on my socks and shoes.  As I walk towards the door to go get Nacho, I hesitate.  I can deal with this; I don’t need to get rid of him.  What am I thinking?  Getting rid of this little dog is not going to make anything better.  I put the keys back on the counter and notice a drawing hanging on the fridge.  I see a drawing of Nacho and Bret having fun at a park, Nacho trying to wrestle Bret down.  When did Bret draw this?  I don’t remember it.  Who even draws a picture of their dog playing in the park?  I pick up the keys and walk towards the door.           

***

            Mi amor, if only you could understand the depth of my love for you.  I tell you each time I see you of how much I long for you, yet you shy away.  Why?  Do I not treat you like a queen?  I bring you food I killed myself… I poop where you tell me to poop… I also wear the collar you bought me.  Mi alma, no seas mala. My love, please don’t treat me so bad.  And now, you have gone away and left me scratching at the door, wondering if you’ll ever return.

            “Come back, come back!” but my words are left on the lonely doorstep.  I run around to try and go in the front, but to my sorrow the door is locked.  I run around the yard to the opposite side to see if I could get in that way, but alas the door is also locked.  What am I to do?  I was disowned, forgotten, by my beloved master and now stuck outside.  Will she come back?  I don’t know; I just have to believe.  Mi Corazon, you always feed me and bathe me and take care of me, oh how you make my tail wag endlessly.  I scratch at the door some more, but to no avail.  On the brink of giving up and falling asleep on the step, I spot a stool.  I immediately run to it and began to push it towards the step, and eventually up the step. 

            “Soon mi amor, I will be with you once more.  Soon I will be able to whisper precious lyrics into your ear once again.  Soon I will get this confounded door open and you will be mine,” I say as I stand on the stool and then jump towards the handle missing on my first attempt. 

            “Lo puedo hacer,” I repeat to myself.  I’m not going to allow my god-given height to stop me now; I have come too far to let my love get away from me.  “Dios dame el poder. God give me power,” I say before my second attempt but again I fall short.  What doesn’t kill me mi amor. I am ready to push for one more attempt. Yet again I fail, this time I fall on my back and let out a yelp from the pain.  Not to let my misfortunes get the better of me, I decide that if I can’t reach the handle, then I will have to bust through the door.  I need some help.  I try to grab several big sticks with metal at the end that let water out, but I am unable to grasp any of them, my height be damned. 

Although I couldn’t make use of any of the big sticks, I do have a bone left and figured it would have to do.  I hold it tightly with my jaws and engage in ramming the door, jerking my head to the right then slamming the bone into the door.  I smack the door several times before I decide that maybe I need to get some speed.  I focus, say a prayer, and rush towards the door as fast as my feet would take me when suddenly God answers my call and blesses me with the beauty that is my angel opening the door.  I rejoice at the moment I am reunited with mi cielo.

            “How are you my beautiful?  What were you doing, where did you go?  I don’t even care, I’m just glad that you’re here with me now.  I’m just glad to have the privilege to see you my angel, your emerald eyes and golden hair.”  She picks me up with such tender care. She always treats me so well.

            “Hey Nacho, we’re going to go on a walk.  I think you need some exercise because you’ve been such a lazy dog lately,” she says.

            She cares.

            Could this goddess be anything but perfection?  I must confess my love to her once again, perhaps this time it won’t fall on deaf ears.  Today will be different.

            “I love you,” I say as I began licking my love’s hand.

            “Settle down now Nacho, you don’t want to get too excited, oh and let me take that collar off of you,” she says.

            I wonder why she took my collar off, but I shouldn’t care, I’m with my beauty.  As she caresses me in her arms, she walks over to the big metal box that moves really fast.  She places me in front with her, and then the door is slammed.