Part of Slice of Life by Two Writing Teachers
Sunday evening, I was sure I had a slice for this week. A puppy slice! That day, we had finally decided enough was enough with our couch. Sure, Finn loved to sleep on the couch. He loved to snuggle on the side, sometimes propped with pillows. It was adorable to watch him nest himself in for a long cozy puppy nap.
But, a few months ago, he spent a good deal of effort destroying parts of the couch. And even though he seems to have stopped that craziness, the couch did not heal.
So, we took the couch to the curb this weekend, much to Finn’s disappointment.
Then, we continued to try to teach Finn to sleep on his soft (and expensive) doggy bed. It’s the one he tried to eat 6 months ago, but will sometimes rest on for short amounts of time, when given a lot of praise. Sometimes.
At last, a little before Mother’s Day dinner, Finn did rest on his bed, after we covered it with his favorite blanket. (It used to be my favorite blanket, just saying.) But, then we got a wee bit distracted by dinner with my parents, and we might have left the dog in the family room with his bed a little bit too long.
After watching us rake the family room (and sweep, and vacuum…Thanks, Mr. Thought), Finnegan decided he didn’t need any couches or beds, because he had our Ikea chair, and he had me to put a pillow under his head.
So, I thought I had my slice about Finnegan, the crazy Puppy. Oh that puppy!
But then we took Finn to check out a doggy day care out in the country this afternoon. It was beautiful. A classic rolling hills farm: green grass, blue sky, wonderful people. He ran around with a few dogs while we talked to the owner. The kids ran off with the owner’s kids to look at the kittens in the barn. Finn wasn’t annoyingly interested in the kittens — he just licked them hello and went on his merry way. Bucolic. Peaceful. Perfect.
And then he caught a rooster.
I watched in horror as he chased, then caught it in his mouth. “Oh, it’s just a rooster,” the woman said, highlighting the differences between my vegetarian family and her farm family. “He can kill the rooster.”
We tried to catch Finn, and the rooster did get a way, a few times. And then someone caught Finn, and the rooster walked slowly into the pasture. A pile of feathers was left behind.
“I’m so sorry!” I kept saying. My kids were wide eyed and her kids were smiling, “Oh, it’s okay. it happens all the time.”
“Does this get us kicked out of doggy daycare?” I asked.
She laughed and said, “No! When can he start?”
We met her husband and when I told him we were all vegetarian, he remarked, “Well Finn’s not!”
True. He’s not.
They thought the rooster would probably go off into the woods and die pretty soon. I think the image of my sweet puppy running with a giant rooster in his mouth will not die soon enough.
Please, Finnegan, stick to killing couches and doggy beds.
all of March. You should do it too! Thank you, 
