I am Ginger | Previous Challenge Entry

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TITLE: I am Ginger | Previous Challenge Entry
By Rosey Mucklestone
01/17/15
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I am Ginger.

I am a Cockapoo

I am invincible.

There was a time when I was a small dog in every sense of the word, but that time is long gone.

As it still is today, I was only about a foot tall, not standing on my hind legs. But back then, I was a trim little thing from constantly chasing rats, moles, chickens and rabbits with my brother, Fred.

Then the coyotes came and Fred was no more. I was sad for a while, but I consoled myself with the extra food he no longer needed to eat. I got a little chubbier, but not very noticeably. One day, I found where the extra bulk could come in handy.

The family was coming back down the path in their box with wheels and I ran out to greet them. I was a little too eager and found myself nearer to the wheel than I wanted to. The next thing I knew, it had gone right over me.

It hurt and I yelped. The humans made frightened sounds and came out to see if I was all right. Surprisingly, I was. But the people needed more proof. I was rushed to the man in the white coat, who poked at me until the people were okay.

That was the day I lost my fear of the boxes with wheels.

Not long after that, two other big dogs joined us: Gilligan and Mary-Anne. The people got a different kind of food for them that tasted WAY better than mine. Seriously. I’d been missing out.

The first day, one of the people called us, scooped out the food, then ran back into their house. I beat Gilligan and Mary-Anne to it and started eating as much as I could, but the two big dogs were right behind me and started sticking their big, wet noses into the bowl, nudging me out.

I hadn’t had my fill yet and I had been here first. I gave them a little growl to let them know what I thought, and to my surprise, they backed away and let me eat first. They were totally submitting to me!

That was the day I realized my power over larger dogs and I’ve kept a tight hold of it ever since.

Mary-Anne didn’t last long, though, and soon it was just Gilligan and me. But the days of luxury were gone. We only got fed once a day and it was the normal food that I had. I was wasting away. Gilligan was still submitting to me, so I got more food than that big oaf, but still…

Then, the year that I turned nine, about four years later, Gilligan died. The people were devastated. So was I. I only got half as much food as I had before.

About a month later, two puppies came and joined my family: Bullwinkle and Sassafras. For the first few months of their lives, they lived inside and I only saw them a few times. I was still only getting a small amount of food.

But then the puppies moved outside. And that meant that they were fed outside. They ate puppy food, which had even more vitamins and protein packed in than my and Gilligan’s food put together, and it tasted like heaven.

It was clear from the very first time I met the puppies that they would submit to me, even though I had a little trouble breaking Bullwinkle. So once they were outside, I had no trouble chasing them away from the food bowl.

It was one of the happiest times of my life. The puppies became sleek and athletic, while I became bigger and bigger. But the people didn’t know it because my fur had grown so long it hid me like a blanket.
At around the one year mark, Sassafras was sent back because she kept going past the fence and killing other animals, so Bullwinkle was left, but he still got the same amount of food. Even more for me.

Bullwinkle was noticing my growing middle and was obviously getting concerned. He bounced around, trying to play with me constantly. I prefer gluttony to activity, so I just growled at him and went back to the food bowl.

But the people had to find out sooner or later. I was given a haircut and the people were all shocked. They made sounds like: “Fat” “Too much food” and “Diet”.

I wonder what they mean?

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