Dog Days

To do my work, I need peace and quiet. So I moved to the suburbs. But I had this neighbor, Mr. Oriani, who had this little dog named Wags. I used to like dogs. When I was a kid, I had this beagle named Arnold. I really loved him. One day, when I came home from school, Arnold wasn't there. My mom said he ran away. Later, I found out that Mom had taken Arnold to the pound because he dug up her tulip bulbs and peed on the Oriental rug in the den.

Anyway...

Wags barks all the time, day and night. I put on my music really loud sometimes, to block him out. But sometimes I would like it to be quiet.

Wags has this really annoying sort of yip that he can do without pause for hours on end. It sort of sounds like he's in pain or something, but he's not.

I went over to see Mr. Oriani last week. Wags was yipping away really loud, and I hadn't been able to sleep or get any work done. Mr. Oriani always said Hi when I walked across the yard and he was watering his lawn. He kind of reminded me of my Uncle Dave, an old fat guy who smiled a lot and always gave me Lifesavers. I wasn't really sure what I was going to say. Sometimes, I get sort of tongue-tied around old people. I mean, I wanted to ask Mr. Oriani if there was some way he could keep Wags a little bit quieter, but I didn't know how to ask. So anyway, I went over there, and Mr. Oriani was hoeing his garden.

How're you doing, Billi, he said.

Oh fine Mr. Oriani, I said.

Wags was on the porch barking really loud, but Mr. Oriani didn't seem to notice.

How's your mother, he said.

Okay, I said.

That's good, he said.

When is she going to visit again, he said.

I don't know, I said.

Well tell her as soon as the icicle radishes come in, I'll send her some, he said.

Hey, how did she like that strawberry jam, he said.

Oh she liked it just fine, I said.

Good, good, Mr. Oriani said.

He took a long drink of the orange soda he always drank. Wags nearly busted a gut barking, but he never left the porch.

Well I gotta go downtown now, I said.

Bye, I said.

Have fun, Mr. Oriani said, waving the empty orange soda bottle at me.

When I walked away, I felt so stupid. I went downtown, to the hardware store. I told the guy there that I needed to kill some gophers that were messing up my lawn. He sold me some poison. I mixed up some of the poison with some pork sausage I had in the fridge. I went out at midnight with the sausage, but I felt really bad and I just put it in the garbage. Then I went back home and lay on my bed for a long time, thinking. Poisoning a dog. How low could I go? Anyway, it's not right to blame a poor dumb animal. The dog doesn't know any better.

I was really glad that I hadn't poisoned Wags.

I don't like to think that I'm that kind of person.

The next night, I took the rest of the poison and mixed it with some orange soda.

I put the soda in Mr. Oriani's refrigerator.

It's been real quiet around here lately.