Friend

Friend is my stuffed animal toy that looks like a pug. Friend has had many lives. The first Friend disappeared when I tried to take him on a walk. Other Friends have had their stuffing ripped out and their heads torn off. Friends often disappear out in the yard in the fall and are discovered in the spring, lying in a mud puddle. Friend has a doppelganger who lives at my grandparents' house. However, never in the many incarnations of Friend has Friend met his end in an unfortunate lawnmower accident. That is an honor belonging to Stretchy Dog, a dachshund look-alike toy who, as his name indicates, stretches out when you pull on him.

Today, Friend is lying in the exact, geographical center of the back porch. Both the porch and Friend are wet, as it has been raining. A squirrel crawls slowly toward Friend. From the squirrel's angle, Friend looks like another squirrel; he is roughly the same size as a squirrel, and has similar coloring. The real squirrel crawls closer, sniffing. Crawling is the right word, as the squirrel's knees are bent and its belly is dragging on the surface of the porch. He gets close enough to Friend to determine that Friend is not a dead squirrel. Then he runs away, around Friend, keeping a wide berth.

New Friend

I have a new friend. This new friend is not a new Friend, my toy replica of a pug. This new friend is a little girl who I met last night when my parents had guests over. I like children, not only because they are small, like I am, but also because they have endless energy. This little girl was no exception! She found all my little golf balls and rolled them across the floor for me. I love that. She called me "Little Doggie!" and chased me around. I was possessed with happiness. I ran and ran around the house. I ran through the chair legs and around the island in the kitchen. I ran and ran.

After a while I got tired and had to hide under the table. It was about that time the little girl went home. For the rest of the night I lied on my side, panting heavily.