Sunday Bloody Sunday

“What are you looking at, hu?” my dog irritably barked at me last Sunday morning. His eyes bloodshot, pallid fur as pale as ash, and paws with smudges of what seems like cigarette dust. I have a nagging suspicion that my dog Frankie is in drugs again. “You haven’t seen a smoking dog before, four eyes?” he rumbled and let out a perfect ring of smoke from his already blackened maw. It’s the voice that irritates me though. He’s been practicing that Tom Jones baritone unceasingly in an effort to impress Dolly, my neighbor’s ten years old pit-bull. I ignored him as I get myself a cup of coffee. Hey I’m talking to you! He grunts as he languidly settled himself on the couch, imitating Garfield’s sluggish demeanor. It’s his favorite TV show and his burgeoning intimacy with my cat, proves that the show had done him good psychologically. But I advised him not to give his trust too much to that cat. “Keep your friend close but keep your…before I could finish he butted in… “Keep your enemy closer! “Yap, I’ve seen Godfather too!” Beaming excitedly, “that’s line from Don Vito Corleone, right? The following morning I moved my DVD player inside my room and just keep mum about it. I’m not sure if I had hurt his feeling and that might explain his present binge with smokes and all. “Frankie, we need to talk,” I whined as I wait for the coffee to work its way to my system. “What about?” he snapped back. “I thought it’s clear with you already that I don’t allow smoking and drinking inside the church premises? You were reprimanded twice already! “You shut up sour-grapping prick!” he growled. I’m sick and tired of your don’t-do-this-don’t-do-that show of aggression when you are feeling down. Loosen up! You want us to have a pity party?

I saw his eyes burning. Jaws drooling. I felt the earth tremble, flushes of lightning in the not-too-far distant horizon, the sky turned red, deep dark red. A deafening silence. Silence. Silence. And the sky fiercely released her tears.

Mark Twain got it wrong when he said that the principal difference between man and dog is that dog will never bite the hand that feeds him.

Rest in Peace Frankie