I Am Bark

Hi. My name is Bark.

I was born a long time ago at a very early age.  Now I am full grown and oh, so very wise.  I have many stories to tell and guidance I can give to all you dogs and dog owners out there on this interwebie thing.

I live with Angelique and Mitch, my very cool human companions, but I can still remember the day the came to fetch me. They came with “Sistur”. They smelled nice and they drove a long time to get me, so I did my best to be cute and kept my piddles down to two for their first visit.

On the second visit they came to fetch me and brought me to my forever home, or so they said it would be my forever home.  Sistur went away shortly after I moved in. I thought it was my fault, but then I heard she was going to get married to Brendon.  Before she left I heard her tell her friend that it was her idea to fetch me to Angelique and Mitch because she thought they would miss her. I’ve let her go on thinking that.

So I’ve been living with Angelique and Mitch for about three years but it may be longer because I am Bark and I am a dog and apparently I have no concept of time.  I managed to adjust to life with Angelique and Mitch pretty quick.  Angelique is what they call Type A. She gets up at 4:30 am everyday because she has to catch a train. I think that’s pretty amazing because I’ve seen the train go by and it’s a lot bigger than any ball I’ve ever chased.  One day I hope Mitch will get up early and take me to watch her catch it.

Mitch is a Type B. He gets up at 6.  He reads the newspaper until 8:30. Angelique says that’s why he is good at trivia games because his head is filled with useless information because he reads every single article from start to finish.  Angelique only reads the first three paragraphs because she says newspaper articles are written in inverted paragraph form and all the important stuff is found in the first three paragraphs.  Whatever.

So Mitch leaves at 9 and I assume my post on the stairs, guarding the house.  I usually work a three hour shift and then the dog walker comes to take me out to do my business and then I go back into the house and assume my post on the stairs, guarding the house until Angelique gets home.

Life was good until last December when we went for a car ride to see Sistur and Brendon.  I like car rides if I can sit on Angelique’s lap and look out the window but she says if Mitch puts on the breaks I will go through the window so most of the time they put a special harness on me and make me sit in the back. Since I can’t see anything from there I mostly sleep.  We drove for 700 days but than again maybe it was 70 minutes because I am Bark and I am a dog and apparently I have no concept of time.  In the car I heard them use a term I’ve never heard before: “down-size”. At first I thought it was down-boy. But I had piddled before I left the house and usually I can hold it for 6 and 1/2 hours so I knew I wasn’t in trouble.  But I found out that “down-size” is worse than any “down boy” I’ve earned in three years.

I will bark about it later because Mitch is standing at the door holding my good friend Mr. Leash.  Looks like I need to take Mitch for a walk.