Toast Post: When it rains…

I am Toast. This is my post.

Something is afoot in the dwelling.

From the safety of Designated Hiding Spot #34 (located behind the couch on the first floor) I just watched Mommy and Daddy pull Dakota the Fluffer Wolf from the big outside into the living room. There is another leak in the sky and water is falling all over the yard. The wolf had been playing in the mud for some time with Dixie Chicken until his recent discovery and retrieval.

They then tried to wrap him in a large towel but he quickly evaded capture and hid under the piano. This proved to be a poor decision because Mommy and Daddy surrounded him and pulled him out. He brought much mud in from the big outside and apparently planned to store it here because he shook it all off. I am unsure as to how he plans to retrieve it.

Mommy and Daddy are no longer using their inside voices.

Standing perfectly still (because nobody can see me as long as I don’t move) I watch as they pull the Fluffer Wolf past me, up the stairs and through the Great Wall of Wood to the second floor of the dwelling.

It has been some time since the wolf was permitted on the second floor, this is highly unusual. I do not appreciate Mommy and Daddy making such a decision without first consulting me. Had I known, I would have taken the time to hide my toys. I had just finished taking weekly inventory and they were still arranged in alphabetical order on the floor.

While normally I would not pursue the wolf, I cannot leave my possessions at risk. I’m going in…


Okay, I’m back.

I relocated my toys to Designated Hiding Spot #17 (under Mommy and Daddy’s bed).

They have moved the wolf into the bathroom. I cannot accurately describe the noise coming from the Fluffer Wolf but I will attempt it: If Mariah Carey were to rollerblade into Beyonce while both were singing the national anthem, then stepped on each other’s feet repeatedly, it may sound similar. Here is an example.

Cautiously, I enter the bathroom to discover all three of them in the small room that leaks from the ceiling with the transparent door closed. I do not understand why they would take the wolf from water outside only to put him in more water inside. In a recent review of household bills, I discovered our water bill was high. I brought this to Daddy’s attention but he clearly forgot because this is a waste of resources.

This will go into my report.

A moment later, the Fluffer Wolf burst out the transparent door and ran past me with Daddy chasing closely behind. I remained perfectly still so they could not see me. Daddy then returned with a very muddy Dixie Chicken and brought her into the bathroom.

This is a disturbing trend.

There are only three dogs in this dwelling and –

Oh no.

This is bath-time. Toast is not a fan of bath-time. But how could it be? I marked the last bath-time on my Grumpy Cat calendar and it has only been 123 days.

I must hide.

Mommy and Daddy are very smart and proven to be worthy adversaries with exceptional tracking skills. They have discovered many of my hiding spots and safe places throughout the dwelling. But I have one that I have saved for just such an emergency. Quickly I cross the bedroom and scurry into Dixie Chicken’s bed.


Although it is located relatively close to mine (okay, next to mine), they will not find me here. Why would I be in Dixie Chicken’s bed? There is no reason. All the good blankies are secured in mine. Frankly, her bed smells slightly of spicy Chinese food and cheese; it is not an enjoyable space. It is pure genius. Toast is an excellent hider.

Feel free to take a moment to ponder my genius.

Someone is approaching.

Perhaps if I hold perfectly still so they can’t see me –

Ah! Hands!

Mommy has captured me!



Mommy has apparently developed the ability to see me even when I’m perfectly still – how is this possible?!?

I may have said something like, “Mommy, could you kindly unhand me and place me back on the floor? I would greatly appreciate it. Thank you in advance for your overwhelming kindness and understanding…”

If you were to ask her, she may tell you my words were not so polite. If she tells you this, she is lying. Toast is always polite.

Regardless, in a cruelness far more cruel than the cruelest cruel of crueldom, she carries me into the small room and holds me under the water.

I spot Dixie Chicken on the floor, covered in suds, playing with the bubbles. Does she not understand the dire circumstances of our situation?

She is clearly insane.

After hours (perhaps minutes, I may have blacked out) of this torture akin to water-boarding and the plucking of whiskers, Mommy releases me. I call back for Dixie Chicken to follow but she remains. No matter, she is dead to me.

I run downstairs only to come face to face with a soggy Fluffer Wolf standing over the garbage can in the kitchen. Apparently Mommy and Daddy had left it out and he was taking the opportunity to exact revenge for bath-time by removing the contents and spreading them across the kitchen floor.

While I would normally scoff at the Fluffer Wolf for such adolescent behavior, I’m on board with bath-time revenge. Without a word between us, I begin to arrange the garbage in alphabetical order, just me and the enemy of my enemy.

That is all.




Posted by J.D. Barker

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