Chapter 2
When I wake, I sniff the air before opening my eyes. The scent of Nate is pretty stale and I figure he's been gone for about four hours. And it's dark. Which means it's night. Which means the humans are asleep.
Which means…
Pantry raid.
I hop off the couch, and shake, which causes my collar to jingle a bit. Shit. I have to be a little quieter if I'm gonna pull this off. I shift all my weight to the center of my paws and crouch down low to the ground. It's a little hunting trick I learned.
When I reach the kitchen, I use the kitchen table to help me onto the counter. I use my nose to open up the cabinets and sniff around.
I smell some marshmallows, old cereal, cheese-its, and…
Holy shit dude.
Beef Jerky.
Jackpot.
I get the jerky and hop off the counter. I set the package on the ground and place my front paw on the package and then I picked up the end with my teeth. I pulled to the left and the package tore apart, the jerky filling my senses with its powerful scent.
Dudes, I'm gonna have a foodgasm.
I quickly lap up a strip of it and almost have a heart attack.
Holy shit dude. Fuck. Shit. Ass. Tits. (FSAT.) This is quite orgasmic. Er, foodgasmic.
I quickly gobble down the whole package and make my way upstairs. I go into Nate's room and hop on his bed, licking his face before settling down by his head. He laughs a bit and then snuggles closer to me.
Boy does he love me.
X X X
I wake up when Nate's alarm clock goes off.
Oh.
Fuck.
FSAT.
Move out of the way; I'm gonna fuckkin hurl!
I leap off the bed in record time and walk over to the corner. I throw up the beef jerky I snacked on last night with a sickening gagging sound. Oh, shit that's nasty.
"Oh, Elvis…" Nate says.
I turn around, making an adorable puppy dog face. He gets out of bed and scoops me up. "I'm sorry you're sick, baby." Nate brings me downstairs.
The rest of the family is already up and they all look as Nate carries me downstairs. I whimper a bit.
"I think Elvis is really sick," Nate tells them. "He just barfed in my room."
Nate sets me down on the couch, and I curl up into a cute little ball of fluff.
"IT'S RABIES!" Shane screeches. "I KNEW THAT THING THAT BIT HIM WAS RABID!"
Nate scoffs. "He's not foaming at the mouth now is he? Yeah, that's what I thought."
I whimper a bit, milking this whole sick thing for all it's worth.
"Should we take him back to the vet?" Jason asks, concerned.
FSAT! No! Not the vet!
Paul comes into the living room, holding the empty package of beef jerky. "Did any of you boys have a late night snack?"
Shit. Forgot to hide the evidence. Busted.
The three boys turn to me.
"Elvis…" Nate scolds.
I whimper again. Maybe they'll feel sorry for me. I do this oh-so adorable thing where I put my head down and rub my paw on my muzzle while whimpering. I do this a couple of times.
Fuck.
I hop off the couch and barf again.
"Put him outside; He's been a bad dog," Shane says.
No! Don't put me outside! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to eat all that beef jerky! Well, I did, but what can you say? It was just too tempting!
Nate picks me up and goes over to the door.
FSAT! They really are gonna throw me outside!
"I'm sorry Elvis," Nate says as he closes the slidy door.
NOOOOOO!! I bark and paw at the door. I scratch it up a bit, but I don't really care. Please let me back in! I promise I'll be good. I whine loud enough so that they can hear me inside. I do the sad puppy dog look and stare directly at Nate. My tail droops and I just stare at him.
Nate sighs and caves, letting me back in. When he opens the door, I look up at him and then when he signals for me to go inside, I hang my head in fake shame and put my tail between my legs, whining a bit.
Ooh, I can tell the kids are getting really upset just looking at me.
"Poor Elvis. I feel so bad," Jason says.
Yes. My plan is working. But I keep a sad face and go down to the floor, pawing a bit at the carpet, whining while doing this.
Jason comes over to me. "Guys, he looks so sad. And it's only making me feel worse."
I let out a pitiful whimper. If I could cry, I would.
"Aww," Nate sighs. "I feel horrible for kicking him out. He didn't deserve that."
Yes… YESS. Feel bad! FEEEEELLL BAADDD FOR THE POOR LITTLE PUPPY.
He scoops me up and talks to me like I'm a baby. He takes me upstairs into his room. "You can sleep on my bed, okay Elvis?"
I lick his face and he smiles. I hop out of his arms on the bed and curl up where he usually sleeps. I take in a big whiff of his sent. It smells like… Nate. And a bit of sweat, but mostly Nate.