Dog Thumbs; A Fantastic Wish

This is Charlie and his dog Chunk

Whose fur was black just like a skunk.

Charlie loved Chunk and Chunk loved Charlie

Everyday together was like a party.

They would play all day,

And Charlie would pretend things that Chunk would say.

Charlie and Chunk were the best of friends,

And when together the fun never ends.

Having fun with Chunk is what Charlie loved best.

They got to play while mom did the rest.

The responsibility of having a dog is large,

So now mom is making Charlie take charge.

Charlie’s new tasks are walking Chunk and giving him food…

Even if he’s not in the mood.

He has to pick up Chunk’s toys and bathe him too.

He even has to pick up old, stinky poo.

When it came to the work Charlie whined and wailed.

He thought its Chunk who should work, and then he bailed.

Charlie left Chunk’s dishes without food and water,

And the poo and the walks, Charlie wouldn’t even bother.

Mom asked him to do better, and he thought, “Oh, Brother,”

“Why can’t she do it? Sounds like a job for mother.”

She said, “It’s your dog, so you do the work.”

Charlie looked at Chunk and thought, “You big, slobbery jerk.”

Charlie went to bed, mad at his pup.

He hung his head down before turning it up.

Charlie looked at the stars, feeling remiss.

He took all his hopes and made a wish.

“I wish I may, I wish I might,”

“I wish this wish I wish tonight.”

“Playing is fun, but work is dumb.”

“I wish, I wish my dog had thumbs.”

Hoping Chunk would do all the work, Charlie went to bed.

Soon Sleep took hold, and today left his head.

The very next morning Charlie had awoke

To a great big, surprising, furry paw poke.

Waking up early gets Charlie bummed.

Except for this morning, because Chunk had thumbs.

Charlie played with Chunk, making a rumbling racket.

Then he taught Chunk things like how to zip up a jacket.

They plowed down the stairs, and shouted, “Mom, Look!”

Charlie even taught Chunk how to open a book.

Mom was impressed, but said, “Charlie get dressed.”

They ran up to his room to do their best.

Charlie taught Chunk how to clean up his own drool,

How to load a backpack, and how to catch the bus to school.

The kids on the bus were in awe with what Chunk could do,

And were a tad bit jealous that their dogs couldn’t too.

Charlie entered the school feeling very confident.

‘Cause Chunk got praise and a lot of nice compliments.

During class Chunk was taught how to write,

How to read, and how to be polite.

He was taught how to open doors and turn on lights.

Chunk then learned how to discern wrong and right.

At the end of the day the two felt uber cool,

As they got on the bus to head home from school.

When they got home mom said, “Now it’s time for study.”

Charlie said, “You got it.” Turned to chunk, “Let’s go, Buddy.”

They ran through the living room and up the stairs.

Excited as ever was the jovial pair.

Up in their room, Charlie began teaching.

And for Chunk, it’s his full potential he’s reaching.

Chunk was a brilliant dog with an appetite for learning.

Once he could read, the pages never stopped turning.

After they finished studying multiples of fours,

They went outside to start their chores.

They picked up the poo, pulled weeds, and collected toys.

In a now clean backyard stood two accomplished boys.

After that endeavor they went in the kitchen

Where Chunk did some other things that Charlie was wishin’.

Chunk was able to get his food and water all by himself,

And even helped Charlie put things on the shelf.

After all’s said and done, the friends retreated off to bed.

Charlie went to sleep, but Chunk studied instead.

Then the next morning as Charlie dressed up for school,

Chunk was in the garage already working with tools.

He worked with the hammer and messed with the pliers.

He even used both types of screwdrivers.

With his smart puppy brain he made changes to his collar.

Before he would bark, but now he could holler.

He could whisper and speak and yell if he wants.

He recited the names of Charlie’s uncles and aunts.

Charlie went to the garage and asked, “Ready to go?”

He added, “Time for School.” But, Chunk simply said, “No.”

Charlie stood shocked, and said, “Okay, you big stinker.”

He went off to school while Chunk stayed home and tinkered.

Chunk made his talking collar, clothes, and even a hat.

He made a robotic dog to chase the neighborhood cats.

Chunk’s tummy grumbled for something to munch,

So he stepped away from work to get a bit of lunch.

Chunk started to miss Charlie, and he felt the blues,

So he tried to distract himself by watching the news.

TV’s mediocre so he made a new medicine.

Then came an announcement on “How to be the new president.”

He put on his puppy suit and shoes, and headed to DC

Where he would try to be the first president of his species.

He went around the White House, shook hands and ate crumbs.

The world fell in love with Chunk the talking dog with thumbs.

They loved him so much it was a landslide election.

President Chunk had America’s affection.

He sat at his desk for the first order of business,

And said that all good kids get puppies for Christmas.

He said, “Dogs live inside and should be treated so regal.”

“Oh, yeah, by the way…Cats are now illegal.”

Now every person has a puppy and kittens are against the law.

It’s time for the dogs to have the upper paw.

President Chunk had the power and so he decreed

That every puppy out in public must have their people on-lead.

When Charlie came from school he was handed his leash,

And was fitted for a collar, then sighed to himself, “Sheesh.”

Chunk took Charlie for a walk and played ball in the park.

Then made sure to be home just before it became dark.

Chunk cooked the food, and fed mom and Charlie dinner.

They raced to finish their food first, and Chunk was the winner.

Chunk did all the dishes, and cleaned up the kitchen.

Then he tended to the things that needed a bit of fixin’.

Now that Chunk does everything Charlie’s life is real tame.

He kicked back to relax, but thought, “This is actually lame.”

“Life is so boring with nothing to do.
I can’t believe I’m ‘bout to say I’d rather pick up Chunk’s poo.”

“I’m sorry I was lazy and took it all for granted.

I’m sorry I complained and raved and ranted.”

“Now I see that even though I was mad

I should have been happy with everything I had.”

“There’s two sides to life: the work and the fun.

Before we can play, there’s a job to be done.”

A sad, somber Charlie turned his head to the sky,

And caught a glimpse of a shooting star with his eye.

He thought of lessons learned, and how life is rich.

Charlie closed his eyes tightly and made a wish.

“I wish I may, I wish I might,

I wish this wish I wish tonight.”

“I still love to play, but I’m happy to work some.

I’ll help out more so Chunk doesn’t need thumbs.”

Charlie was spent, he stretched with a yawn.

He sprawled out sleepily and went to bed on the lawn.

Morning came as it took night’s place,

And Charlie awoke to a wet nose on his face.

Some hot dog-breath and some licks on the cheek.

Charlie opened his eyes, and he could hardly speak.

Chunk didn’t have thumbs, a briefcase, or any glasses.

It seemed to be a dream as he wiped sleep from eyelashes.

Normally he got ready slower than molasses,

But today he was ready in a couple of quick flashes.

Charlie had his homework done and cleaned up with the broom.

He even fed Chunk before mom came in the room.

Charlie told mom, “Chunk’s hairy and makes a mess.

So, I thought I’d clean it up, and, wow, that’s a pretty dress!”

Mom smiled down at Charlie the way that she does,

And Charlie hugged Chunk not because things were back to the way they were…

… But just because.

Luigi’s

It was a monthly routine of nostalgia and acute food poisoning.  The illness was caused partially by substandard food prep and storage coupled with broken dietary restrictions, but to Jon it was all worth it to relive a part of his childhood and commemorate his mother. 

Jon’s childhood was not unlike many others whose broken homes were their sanctuary, and whose single parents played both respective parts the best they could. Jon did not see his mom much as she worked her nursing job through the odd hours of the day and night, taking extra shifts when she could, so she could scrape by and still give Jon everything she could.  Jon didn’t go on vacations like most of his classmates, he didn’t have new shoes and clothes unless they were handed down to him, but occasionally single items were purchased on layaway for special occasions such as his birthday.  Jon didn’t have lunch money like his classmates either, but he had something to look forward to as he ate his cardboard tasting cafeteria lunch.  He didn’t notice the difference between him and his more fortunate classmates.  All Jon knew was that he went to school like they did, played like they did, and that he had a mom who loved him and made him feel special like they probably did.

When Jon got a good report card, his mom would buy him his favorite candy bar to celebrate.  When Jon had a rough day or tough experience, his mom would listen to him while rubbing her hand on his back, telling him that things will get better and things don’t stay the same then she would give him a big hug.  And, because she worked so much to provide for Jon and didn’t get to see her child as much as she wished, she set aside one day a month to treat her pride and joy, and that time she called “Mommy and Me Time.”

The majority of their Mommy and Me Time was spent at Luigi’s, which was a small Italian restaurant, and eating there made Jon feel like an actor or limo driver or doctor.  Before they would order, his mom would smile at his raw enthusiasm in between their jokes and conversation.  Jon and his mom would order the shrimp Alfredo every time.  Jon’s mom’s favorite was Alfredo, so Jon would follow his mom’s infallible taste and advice and order the same thing.  Jon’s mom would also tell him that one day when she gets a better job than nursing they would be able to have a lot more Mommy and Me Time and they would be able to afford lavish luxuries like crab legs and seafood, so when they went to Luigi’s and ordered the shrimp, Jon felt like they were in the big-time and dreamt of eating shrimp Alfredo and crab legs with his mom every day. 

They would sit at the red and white checkered table cloth across from each other, they would move the candles in the center of the table to the side, and she would ask Jon about school and life with kind, enamored eyes while he answered back alternating his eye contact between his mom and the items on the table that he played and fidgeted with.  Their food would come out, and Jon would put aside the salt shaker that was now a race car zipping across the checkered race track, or the giant’s legs made from his and his mom’s forks with broken, free breadsticks at the ends, or whatever his imagination had created while they waited.  Jon would scarf his food down while his mom would slowly eat and hungrily consume the beauty that she created and sat across from.  Jon loved the shrimp Alfredo that he inhaled every time.  It was so unlike the bologna sandwiches, rice and eggs, and canned fruit he was so accustomed to eating at home.  It was a rich taste, literally and figuratively. 

Before they could even pay for the check, every time without fail, Jon’s little stomach would already start bubbling and turning, but this was normal to Jon, because as a child he just assumed that is what is supposed to happen and every one feels the same way afterwards.  He just generalized it like he did most of his world experiences at that point. They would make it home, pick a movie, and ride out their bubbly, turning tummies together. 

This tradition continued throughout elementary and middle school even when some of their other rituals and usual rewards fell to the wayside.  They kept this special experience going even when Jon’s mom became sick shortly after his introduction to high school.  As her visits to the hospital became more about her well-being rather than a paycheck, Jon took it upon himself to get a part-time job to help his mom out, and to now treat his mom to what she used to make him feel special.  By this point, Jon has enough social awareness to understand that he and his mom were not financially equal to those around him in the environment that his mom had tried so hard to foster for him.  Jon didn’t use the money from his part-time job for new clothes or shoes or fast food.  He used that money for rent, groceries, and their much deserved monthly expenditure that he still looked forward to as much as he did as a young child.  As his mom’s illness progressed, Jon looked forward to their lavish dinner even more than when he was a child. 

They would sit at the stained, red and white checkered table cloth, and talk about life and all that it encompasses.  They would laugh together and cherish this time that only came once a month.  They would discuss all of the things that have happened during the time they didn’t see each other through the month due to conflicting schedules and doctor’s appointments.  When the food would come, Jon would eat more slowly and conserved to savor the rich feeling and taste, while his mom would eat progressively less over time due to the medications, but she would still imbibe the immense treasure that sat across from her.  She could never get full of that tremendous love she felt for her son.  There was never enough time.  Just as when he was a kid, his stomach would start to churn, and he and his mom would adjourn to their small house, plop down on the same couch, and watch a movie together while they rode out the uncomfortable effects of dinner.  Jon’s queasiness was from the dinner, but his mom’s was, again, because of the medication.  While Jon watched the movie, his mom would watch him, just like when he was a child. 

The better job, improved circumstance, and crab leg dinners never came.  Right around the time of Jon’s graduation, his mother passed away.  Jon had made friends throughout school, but his mom was his anchor, his therapist, his mentor, his father, and his best friend.  She was his everything.  In the end, it was her illness that brought them so close, and it was what tore them apart.  So needless to say, Jon was devastated.  He moved in with his aunt for a brief time to finish out the last few months of high school, and every month he would ride the bus across town after work to sit at a table for two at Luigi’s and order the shrimp Alfredo.  He would pretend to play with things on the table while fighting back tears.  He could eat what his depressed appetite would allow for, and would ride the bus home with his leftovers wrapped up on his lap and stomach rumbling behind it.  It wouldn’t be until he got to his aunt’s house and started the movie that the loneliness and loss was too much to bear, and he would cry himself to sleep those first few months. 

Time continued on as it does, and Jon gained experience and matured as some adults do, but he never stopped his monthly trip to Luigi’s.  As Jon got older and gained more insight into the world of being an adult and sacrificing for others, he began to understand all that his mom did for him and all that she gave up so he could have some semblance of a regular, happy childhood.  Jon now understood that even those small, inconsequential report card candy bars were more of a sacrifice that he knew.  There was no money in the budget for candy bars.  They were often times bought by his mom’s coworkers that tried to help support them behind the scenes.  He realized that whatever he was going through and struggling with was nothing compared to the responsibility of a single parent raising a child on a nurse’s salary.  He also realized that she put all of her troubles to the side, and took on all of his conflicts and worries, but she didn’t have anyone to share her burdens with.  And, clearly, if those expenditures were not feasible, the dinner at Luigi’s should have been out of the question.  That night off is a deduction from her pay they couldn’t afford, which just made the dinner that much more expensive in a sense.  However, these sacrifices meant giving her son the world, and that to her was worth everything. 

Even as Jon got older, he saw that Luigi’s wasn’t a fancy, upscale restaurant that he viewed it as a child.   The fancy checkered table cloth was a cheap fabric material with the red and white pattern glossed on a plastic-like material.  The candles weren’t real candles nor were they ever.  They were the cheap replicas that we lit by small batteries rather than fire, and the majority of which didn’t work anymore, but Luigi’s continued to adorn their tables with them.   The menus were a laminated, one page front and back, and the prices on them were meager. 

 The service wasn’t anything of note, at least it wasn’t anymore, but Jon didn’t know what the service was like as a kid.  His mom and their time together was the enjoyment and experience, not the atmosphere and staff hospitality.  Nothing of Luigi’s setting changed either besides the accumulated dust and grime on the already old and still aging furnishings and décor.  Jon also had now come to know the shrimp at Luigi’s had not been up to snuff.  As a child, Jon thought the fishy odor that hinted of decay was the smell of opulence, the smell that the rich and famous dined on, the smell he thought was an acquired taste, and the smell he now knew meant the seafood was turning.

Jon had come to know and learn more about the fond memories of his mother and Luigi’s, and the subtleties and subtext he missed in his youth.  Jon had even learned that he was lactose intolerant, which was consequently the reason for all those grumbly tummies after he and his mother’s monthly culinary tradition, but dietary restriction and the other unpleasant facts about Luigi’s did not diminish the memories, nor did they keep him from returning every month to the establishment that stood in private memorial to his mother and their special time together where nothing but them and their love was of any importance.

So for years, this ritual of emotional nostalgia and physical masochism continued until a little while after he had a son of his own.  He sat at Luigi’s in front of a lukewarm plate of stomachache, ruminating of his time with his mother, and he had a revelation.  He began to see the restaurant for what it truly was to him; a vestige of hope, tradition, sacrifice, and, above all else, love.  But, he also realized that it was merely a physical reminder, and the physical discomfort a byproduct of that reminder.  It did not house the memories as though he had treated it so.  The memories and happiness that his mom gave him live in him, and in the tradition she had created with the light of her world.  They were now, and will always be, a part of him.  With that epiphany, for the first, only, and last time in Jon’s life he pushed the plate aside, and left a twenty on the table to cover the untouched shrimp Alfredo, glass of water, and more than generous tip then returned home.

Now, once a month for no reason at all, not for good grades or to make up for lost time, not for cleaning his room or as any sort of reward, Jon, his wife, and his son have dinner at a restaurant of their choosing and continue the tradition his mom started so many years ago to honor and cherish the time they have together.

Ready or Not

52… 53… 76… Niner… 100!  The call finally came and not a moment too soon.  Kale’s head rested upon his forearm which was supported by the gargantuan pine whose moss stuck to the exposed area of his lower arm as he sprung from his personal intermission.  He could hear his prey rustling off in the distance.  He could not see any movement, but could sense the direction he should go as wolves do.  He knew not of the instinct wolves possessed or even quite what ‘instinct’ is, but Kale was akin to this unknown prowess and mystical power, for he was part wolf.  The noise haltered as Kale brushed his brown bangs from his matching brown eyes only for them to fall back into their initial resting place.  He peered from behind his bangs into the forest before him as he sloughed the moss from his arm and traced the indentions left from the bark.  The brush was thick yet almost unmaneuverable, but the rugged terrain would prove to be nothing less than a minute detail well overlooked by such an experienced supernatural, hybrid tracker as himself.  Kale paused for a moment and inhaled the apprehension of the hunt before him, but the serenity was abruptly halted by the sound of a snapping vine, and he knew there was only one place in this forest where that vine grows.  He leapt from his confines and broke into the overwhelming bush in an intoxicating frenzy, crazy from anticipation and determination. 

Jake hurriedly slid into the gulch trying to catch his feet and his breath at the same time.  He felt his heart beating furiously in his chest from elation and fear.  He was not going to be found again.  No… Not this time.  The hunt was on and he reveled in it.  He moved with the swiftness of a leopard and tore down opposing shrubbery like a silverback gorilla, while making likewise noises in the process, but he had to suppress the urges to do so during this delicate game of cat and mouse, because, you see, his pursuant had the ability to hear whilst Jake did not.  However, since Jake was unable to hear his other senses were much more keen and sensitive, which would fruitfully work in his favor.  As he reached the adjacent face of the gulch, he quickly grasped a vine and began to scurry up the soft red wall, but the silt filled his shoes and the vine gave way.  He plummeted to the bottom, yet was unscathed thanks to his cat-like reflexes.  Unfortunately, Jake was unaware that the untimely destruction of the vine that almost destroyed him had incidentally given away his position.  He scrambled across the riverbed until he found an embankment shallow enough for him to scale.  He emerged from the hole in the earth that just tried to swallow him, face and hands stained red from the belly of the beast he had just battled.  He dusted off his blonde hair that was now the same color as his now camouflaged hands and face.  Jake noticed some birds take flight from their roost high above in the treetops on the other side of the gully, and stealthily took refuge behind a nearby tree trunk.  He knew it was his assailant hot on his tail.

Kale sprinted through the dense thicket before abruptly skidding to a halt.  Before him stood an obstacle of immense proportion: a deep red chasm of ominous intent whose only purpose seemed to be to separate him from his antagonist.  He spotted the severed vine sprawled out on the bottom of the opposing side.  He knew it was his fugitive’s failed attempt at surfacing to freedom.  Kale scanned the bed but found nothing besides the vine.  A small pile of dirt and claw marks gave Kale an inkling of suspect hope, so he slid halfway down the steep face before jumping the rest of the way down, his landing at the bottom erupted a cloud of heroic dust that quickly enveloped him.

Jake peeked out from behind the protective tree after what felt like forever, but wasn’t a millisecond too soon.  His glance caught a cloud of fresh dust protruding out of the hole in the earth, and behind that loose gravel and sand trickled after two fresh tracks that appeared to descend inward.  This was his chance if there ever was one, and he knew it.  Removed from suspicion, Jake burst into quick strides as to evade his captor.  He made his way towards an opening that he had been eyeing ahead in the distance while he took asylum.  With the end in sight, his heart filled with joy from the promise of safety, but his hopes found disaster.  What stood before him was unnervingly unexpected, and was most likely not of this world.

Kale held his breath as the dust settled while trying to wave the remaining particles from his eyes.  He inhaled then stifled the cough which proceeded as to remain silent.  He knew the one he was after couldn’t hear, but he also knew that the one he was after had heightened senses because of that, which could arguably be even more reason to be as covert as possible.  Kale made his way to the evidence of his evader’s escape and followed suit.

At the top of the gully, Kale knew where to go.  It seemed obvious… Almost as if this had happened before… Déjà vu, maybe.   He took off into the direction he knew to go, but shortly after was met with a strange sound coming towards him.  It was Jake in a cold sprint.  However, just as quickly as Jake appeared, Kale recognized that the oncoming danger was in fact chasing Jake who was frantically gesturing in the direction of Kale’s back.  He made out the word “Run.”  Before he was able to process the swift change of events, a snarling killer of a beast smashed through the dense thicket, trampling everything in its path.  Jake fled past his previous stalker, and Kale took heed in his wake.  The hunter had become the hunted, and the two found themselves back at the treacherous chasm they had perilously traversed but moments ago.  With their backs to the enormous drop, the only evident plan of action was to team up and stand their ground.

The beast lurked through the underbrush, snarling a Cerberus snarl as acid slobbered from its jowls.  The earth disappeared under the demon-beast’s shadow, and all evil began to spring forth from the darkness that drug along underneath.  Kale knew he had to embrace his wolf within to win… His form began to change into something between a wolf and a man… A… Wolfman.  As Kale began his transformation, Jake used his powers to create a force-field around the two, and his eyes glowed red.  Kale had a force-field too, but it was better than Jake’s.  But, Jake’s was made of Fire, so his was better… Plus, he could fly.  Well, Kale was able to make the earth do things for him.  The beast closed in…

“Boys, it’s time for dinner…” rang out into the battlefield. “Kale, tell your brother that it’s his turn to set the table.”

At the sound of their mother’s voice the family dog, a golden retriever, started off towards the house, occasionally glancing back to make sure the kids were coming.  “Mom says it’s time for dinner.” Kale relayed dejectedly.

As the two boys exited the garden covered in dirt and fresh adventures, Kale laughed to his brother “Next time you’re it!”