Frankie is confused. Pleased but really confused. Her daily routine is turned upside down and now she has to think of other activities to bark about.
The human is home ALL the time. That never happens. Frankie cannot properly nap in the morning after walk and breakfast. The human is there, chattering in ways that have nothing to do with treats and tummy rubs.
Walks. They are strange. Frankie loves visiting the dog park and getting pets and love from all the people there. And now the human will not go to the dog park. When we see Jaspar, the world’s greatest French Bulldog, Frankie cannot go near him. Why?
The human says social distancing. Germs are about. What in the world is a germ? Is it like a cat? Whatever it is, it makes the human sad. She cries sometimes for no reason at all. She does not watch her favorite game with the Liverpool thing that makes her dance and sing. Frankie never thought to miss that.
Frankie does not know what social distancing means and does not, will never believe that being alone all the time can be good for dogs or bipeds. Germs be damned.
Especially Frankie’s human who does not get enough love and play as it is.
How is Frankie going to teach the human how to interact with other dogs and humans, teach it the value of the pack if the human refuses all pack behavior? Just a little longer, the human says. It is not forever. The only time a pug understands is forever so what is happening?
It is a mystery. At least the human is here and feeding Frankie every day. There is still an eternity to save my human.
Frankie thinks the writer might be broken. It’s probably because of that stupid cat in the story she keeps reading to Frankie. If the writer would simply kill the cat, everything would be back on track and Frankie could be lazy again. As it now stands, the writer has spent a week crying about something called a query.
Ok, Frankie understands. Point me to the query and the pug will beat it up so that the writer can relax again. This simply must stop. The writer thinks the query is as a bad as a cat and has employed a “workshop” to fix it.
The Liverpool game is over and the writer’s team won. The workshop is over, but the writer still cries and bleats. There are a lot more of these games with the ball and the humans kicking the ball around to watch.
Humans do not know how to play with a ball, not at all. And yet, the writer has abandoned the couch and is back at her desk. The workshop is over, the writer said. Frankie does not understand any of this.
The writer says there is not any more time left to be lazy. What is wrong with her? It is raining. It is cold. The writer is here with Frankie. She should get on the couch and get with the program. Not all this gnashing of teeth and rending of garments.
Frankie is pretty sure that the writer’s query was not so bad that the writer will be hated by everyone. The writer says her hopes and dreams are riding on this query. That’s plain silly. She has a pug. And if the query is that bad, Frankie will make it better. Everyone loves a pug. And they will love the writer because she is Frankie’s human. And now Frankie is exhausted and requires a nap. Until next time.