By Jake the German Shepherd,
or, occasionally, his friends
As sometimes related by T. D. Fagan
Jake, our crazy German Shepherd dog (commonly known in canine circles as a GSD) came to live with us a few years ago. These short tales are his stories. Names may have been changed to protect the innocent…or the guilty!
Introduction: One September morning...
I often don't sleep well in hotel rooms while on business trips, and that night was one of those times. The nightmare about my wife getting a new puppy while I was away was so realistic that I even received pictures of it on my cell phone!
Unfortunately, despite already having two dogs in the house, my nightmare was apparently real enough to have a name: Jake. At 8-weeks, he was already bigger than our Chihuahua-Pekingese mix, who told him in no uncertain terms to "Get lost," and our little Shih Tzu, who certainly wanted to get lost when Jake was around.
Over the years, Jake has become a fixture in our home. He claims to have many stories to tell, so we indulge him as much as we can. Our home and our computer keyboard sure haven't been the same since his arrival!
— T. D. Fagan
Tale #1: The Dragged One
After watching Shrek and Harry Potter with my little Buddy, I now know what the creature is that lives under the bed in the guest bedroom!
It has a long, thin serpentine neck with a broad head, a big wide eye that glows brightly when it is awake, and a long, thin tail. Its body is relatively small, so I suspect that it is a still an immature specimen, especially since it has not yet grown its teeth nor sprouted its wings.
I have also learned that it sleeps quite soundly—when I recently discovered that it had fallen asleep with its head sticking just outside of its bed-cave, my attempts to subdue it were entirely ignored! The beast didn't even twitch despite my best efforts to munch on its head, though I did leave some very nice teeth marks in its seemingly impenetrable armor plating.
When awake, however, the little beast is truly fearsome! Its roar is a loud, continuous blast that would make even my brother Drake and daddy Nate envious! With much testing, I have determined that my barks are actually louder than the beast's roar, but I am still trying to discover how to emulate its continuity.
The most horrible aspect of the beast, however, is not its roar nor its sucking-type bite, but rather, it ferocity! It strenuously battles Dad around the house, dragging him from room to room (hence, I believe, its name "dragon!"), while Dad desperately clings to its head and neck, wrestling the beast around the entire room, trying desperately to fight it to submission, while preventing the hungry creature from swallowing Trevor, me, or stray socks!
Dad is truly brave as he is dragged around, fighting the beast. I often try to help him by rushing in to bite it from behind, but Dad is quite insistent about me keeping back away from the danger! Maybe he'll let me help more when I'm a little older? Yes, the little dragon truly is a fearsome beast, but last night, I may have finally discovered a weakness I can exploit! I'm going to have to give this some more thought, but the creature appears to be quite proud since it even has its name tattooed right on its broad, flat head:
Tale #2: The Big Bottle
Daddy was really happy with me this morning after he found that bottle I'd been chewing on! It was so neat biting on it, chewing the top off, and watching the stuff drip out of the top onto the carpet. Unfortunately, it didn't taste all that good.
The bottle said 'Bubbles' and '100 ozs' and it made a really nice circle in the carpet.
Daddy was so happy with me, calling me a 'big, idjit galute' and some other fine names I don't remember hearing before! He had lots of fun with a whole roll of paper towels (I'll remember how he unrolled those for a future fun game!) playing with the circle, and then got the big noise maker that he called a 'carpet cleaner' out and ran over the area about a bazillion times. He had so much fun with it! Oh, oh, oh! I have a great idea! The spot was still wet when he left, so I think he may like it like that! If I can remember, I'll pee on the spot later this afternoon to keep it wet for him until he gets home!
He'll be so proud of me!
Tale #3: The Count of Miserable
I am now a couple of hours into the solitary confinement that I have been assured will last me the rest of my natural born days. Looking out through these bars, I am, to say a word, miserable.
At the time of my crime, it didn't seem like such a big deal.
Buddy arrived home on the big yellow bus following his first day of school for the new year (New Year? In August? My parents just try to confuse me!), so Mom and I met him and walked him inside.
Once there, my little Buddy was so tired he removed his shoes and gave them a pitch onto the floor, rather than their usual position out of my reach. He'd worn them all day for the first time in months, so the interesting smell overcame my senses, and seeing that he'd left the door open, I grabbed one of these delectable chew toys and made a run for it!
Mom immediately gave chase, and we proceeded to have a wonderful adventure romping in the woods and brambles along the creek behind our house! It was SO MUCH FUN! Well, until Mom finally tagged me as "It"-that's when she found out I'd dropped the yummy shoe a long time before! At that point, she said she had become "quite perturbed," which it appears is a really bad case of being really pissed at me. I was immediately sentenced to spend the rest of my days in solitary confinement, contemplating my crime.
I would probably be crazier than a prisoner at Chateau D'If by now if I hadn't thought to grab the book that Dad's reading on the way into my cell; fortunately, it has excellent discussions on tunneling, escapecraft, and plotting revenge. If only it wasn't so hard to turn the pages with my paws! Maybe I'll be able to finish a few more pages while Dad's out back searching for the shoe.
A little later:
Oh, it looks like I've finally finished the contemplation that Mom ordered, and, since Dad just walked in with the shoe and appears ready to grant me parole, I've decided that next time I steal such a good chew toy...I'll HIDE IT BETTER!
Author's Note: Thanks for spending a few moments reading Jake's tales. Your feedback in the form of follows, favorites, reviews, or PMs will be greatly appreciated. Constructive criticism is welcomed, too.
Jake Tales will return...