mochi

suddenly i’m noticing everything.

removing the walls of the dog crates to unearth more toys than any dog owner should ever have. 5 years of bark box, 3 toys per box, 1 box a month. i can’t do the math. the toys are everywhere. i step on 1/2 a gumby, tt’s face missing, just 2 legs like green french fries. mochi, the puppy, snuffling through the piles pickinh up a stuffed squirrel dressed like frida kahlo, one eyebrow uneven from the time charlie tried to eat her face, thrown across the room and discarded. mochi picks up a donut, the one with the loudest squeaker and joyfully wedged it in his mouth and he chews and chews, filling the dark pre-dawn with the most comical of duck quacks, the sound cutting through the silence. 6:45AM and i’m whisper yelling, kuma, mochi’s cranky older brother, is barking and that manages to be louder than the donut.

it’s like an alarm and then all dogs are barking, charlie’s tiny bark an orchestra, pre-breakfast. how did jeff manage to feed the and keep them contained while i slept in yesterday? i grab a jar of peanut butter and lead them outside like the pied piper. at least it’s quiet. the puppy is drooling, the donut still in his mouth. it’s grey and the birds are having their water cooler talk in the oak trees. the overgrown lawn, a cemetery of petrified dog turds and soggy dog toys left out overnight. the red one eyed monster, a plastic dog balloon animal missing a tail and 1/2 a rainbow seahorse.