Goodnight...with Flare

"Good night, Mom." Drama Queen, the last child to be up, heads down the hall to her room.

I lock up the house. I switch off the kitchen and dining room lights. I turn and see the desk lamp still on. Underneath it, on the desk, basks Psycho Cat. On the ground next to the desk and in front of the fireplace is a sleeping Drake.

I go to the desk, and nuzzle the cat. "Good night, Kitty." He stretches and glories my day with his acceptance of my attention.

I turn to kneel and do the same with my Drake...and he passes doggy gas. He looks up in embarrassment and shame, then buries his nose under his paws as the smell fills the space quickly.

"Damn it, Drakers." I curl my nose, stand, and flick off the lamp in disgust.

I walk out of the front room to bed. In the darkness behind me, Drake groans in his own stinky misery. You'd think by now ('cause this is an often occurance) he'd learn to get up and move...

Brushing Teeth

I'm in the process of editing when I hear Holy Terror growl with aggravation. Looking over the top of the laptop, I see him leaning into Drake. He's trying to get something in the dog's mouth. Next to them is a cup of water.

"Drake, open up," Holy Terror commands in his most serious tone.

Drake shakes him off.

"I'm trying to brush your teeth...they have to be clean."

Holy Terror holds up Drake's lips and tries again. Drake shakes him off and I see that it's a toothbrush in Holy Terror's hand.

"Drake!"

Dog grumbles at him, sighs, and rolls over away from him.

"Fine. I'll brush Connor's teeth." Holy Terror heads over to our other dog.

"Whose toothbrush is that?" I ask, not sure I want to know.

"Drama Queen's," he says off-handed.

...Oh boy...

Drake's Fish Story

(This is a story from what Hubby and I perceive our dog Drake's point of view was, based on his facial expressions and body language)

I'm awakened by noise in the backyard and rise to get surveillance of the situation. It is too late and the family is sleeping. Worry turns to relief and excitement as my Human Daddy walks in, smelling like fish. Oh man, I wish he'd take me to play with the fishes some time.

Oh, what's this? He's got a cooler with him. Maybe he'll have some snacks! I keep close and make sure my innocent and good expression is clearly on my face. The hiss from Hazae scares me and I quickly search to find him. Phew! He's on the counter. Jeez, what's wrong with that cat? Always so mean, can't even nuzzle him.

I'm going to sit and see what Daddy's brought home for us. Oh! Look at that! A new pet, and it's a fish! I've always wanted a fish to play with. We'll be best friends, I just know it. Oh, Daddy, I love you. We can name him Frank!

Wait...what the...what's he doing? Okay, maybe the fish has to have a bath. It's not nice to start a relationship with a bath, but Daddy's don't always know that. Humans seem to be fond of them. *Shudders*

Is that plastic thing going to be his bed? That seems kind of hard. He can borrow my soft doggie bed if he wants, Dad.

W-what are you doing with the knife? Dad? Um...I don't think Fr- Oh my God! What are you doing?!

The End.

(Don't feel so bad. That's what fish are for. Though Ash did feel too bad to eat the fish in front of Drake.)