Simba Please Stop!

“Hi Astha.”

“Oh hi Simba. Wait, how are you talking?”

Simba is my little Labrador puppy.

“I don’t know. Instead of barking to grab your attention, I started speaking”, said Simba. Well I have read a lot of children’s stories growing up so I didn’t really question his sudden power of speech. “I think we should start a TV show about a talking dog. That’ll fetch us a lot of money”, I said. “No, you mean it will fetch me a lot of money.” I looked at him in shock. How did my innocent puppy turn into a human? “Well, we’ll discuss how many treats to buy with that money later”, he said, “Right now let’s focus on how bad of a parent you are.”

I looked at his snarky little face but somehow he still looked very cute and I just wanted to pull his cheeks. “I know that look”, he said, “You’re about to pull my cheeks and call me a cute, little baby. I need you to stop that. It irritates me a lot.” I said, “But I like pulling your soft cheeks.” “Yes I know that I am indeed a cute, little baby, but I need you to stay out of my personal space. You’re way too clingy and I think that comes from your deep rooted fear of abandonment.” “Okay mister can you stop with the personal attacks and since when do you know about human psychology?” “You’re always bragging to people how Labradors are a very intelligent breed. Well, I am intelligent so I know some things.” He continued, “You have stopped bringing those little red treats. I love them. You need to start bringing them again.”

“Yeah, right”, I said sarcastically, “Anything else you want from me master?” “Don’t you use that tone with me. Also you should stop singing around the house so much. You are terrible at it and also stop practising your Grammy acceptance speech using your hairbrush. It’s not going to happen.” He was not done pointing out all of my flaws. “You also stink a lot. You should use a different shampoo. If you want, you can borrow mine.” “Well thank you, kind sir, for lending me something I bought with my money”, I said. “Don’t mention it. I think we should go to the park at least ten times a day and I need about fifteen more toys to play with and you should give me more food and...”, he rambled on.

I turned to the imaginary camera, because I really thought I was a character in a sitcom, and just kept staring at it. I don’t own this dog now, he owns me.