She didn’t know where Doone was right now, but she didn’t care. She had to digest this latest development in her truly bizarre world. She’d had a hard enough time dealing with the fact Doone could communicate with her. Now he could somehow shift into a man? (And a rather good looking one at that.) She supposed she should be grateful. Some people would be thrilled to death with such a pet. (Room mate? What do you call him?)

She had skipped the scary pill last night because her blood pressure had been tanking every day and that in combination with her headache medication was leaving her CNS depressed to say the least. She was truly a “Zombiegirl” walking around with no motivation to move let alone get anything done. It wasn’t her fault if she had the blood pressure of a dying 90 year old. So she opted to skip it and allow some of the clutter to return to her head and her blood pressure to rise just so she’d be able to function a bit. Mental clutter was a small price to pay to maybe be able to reduce some of the external clutter in her life. It made sense, right?

Doone…a man. Wow. An ironing, breakfast making, burger flipping man. She wondered if she could get him to clean the house. No no, that would be wrong. She had too many decisions regarding what to do with things. But she suspected he’d help. He seemed willing to do anything to get her feeling better about herself. What was his motivation to be here? The whole thing was so odd she just didn’t understand what crazy world she’d fallen into. Perhaps she was strapped down to a bed somewhere crazy out of her mind. Next thing she knew she’d wake up in the Asylum.

Doone came into the room in dog form and just stared at her with his big puppy dog eyes. He almost looked sad. She didn’t know what to say or think. She felt violated. She felt invigorated. She felt crazy. She felt loved.

She stepped out onto the porch and watched the birds and the squirrels play. It was a woodland creature’s little paradise back here and she loved it.

“Doone, do you need anything?”

“No, I’m fine for now Mistress”

And with that she went inside to check on her potato salad to see if it needed any last minute spicing up. The smell of the BBQ was almost hypnotic and she found herself in a dream state where she envisioned Doone not as a dog, but as a man standing at the BBQ. She swayed a bit in the kitchen as she smiled to herself and took in the aroma. Wow. This was powerful.

She quickly set the table with her colorful fiestaware dishes, selecting the more patriotic colors out of the bunch, and got out condiments and the other side dishes. She still couldn’t help but feel dreamy as she went through her preparations.

She popped open a rootbeer (since she didn’t drink of course) and sat down at the table for a moment to steady herself when in walked the handsome man that she’d been daydreaming about carrying the plate of burgers. He set the plate down on the table as her eyes widened in fear.

“It’s me” he said.

He’d been doing laundry for her all day which he knew she would appreciate, carefully sorting the colors from the lights and making sure her bras didn’t go into the dryer. She’d probably be upset he handled her bras at all but what’s a dog to do in these situations? He had to be useful somehow.

She was upstairs, not eating, not doing much of anything but staring out the window and reading. He knew she would throw herself into books when she didn’t want to deal with her own reality. He couldn’t blame her, sometimes, he didn’t want to deal with his own reality either. He lead a rather unique life himself, one that was not always easy. Sometimes decisions had to be made that were difficult for even a dog.

He needed to get ahold of The Worm Guy and see what he should do. Things weren’t going as planned and he was concerned, very concerned, about his Mistress. She was fragile right now and he wanted to be of more use to her. Perhaps if he… no, he couldn’t do that yet. It wasn’t time.

He lay there licking his paws trying to come up with a new plan, some new way to convince her…

Doone watched her as she ran around the house looking for this and that, having procrastinated but being good at it, so she accomplished her tasks one by one in a hurry. She hadn’t even tried the ruffled dress on again since its purchase and wasn’t even sure it still fit. She had very little time (an hour) to find another so for her sake he hoped it did. He hoped that she felt beautiful in it despite her initial reservations and that she could walk in with confidence. His goal had always been to help her feel better about herself. This was not an easy task. She was proving to be quite difficult.

He didn’t dare stop her as she flitted about the house, though he wanted to offer an opinion on her make up, he wasn’t sure it would be received well. She didn’t have to go the undead route, she could soften it up a bit with pastels. She’d never listen to him. She was still having trouble with the fact he could iron.

He wished he could accompany her, to assure her that everything would be ok, but that would be impossible. He was under orders from The Worm Guy to accomplish his task. He wondered where The Worm Guy had gone off to, last he knew he was visiting the Art Teacher and hadn’t been heard from in a while. Hmmm…

On the table was a breakfast fit for a Queen. Bacon and eggs, toast, hash browns, and orange juice sat on the properly set table complete with cloth napkin and a flower in a vase. Everything was still hot and she sat down to eat as Doone walked up with a grin.

“Enjoy your breakfast Mistress” Doone said with a smirk.

“Um, thank you, how did you….nevermind, thank you.”

She was hungry and ate as if she hadn’t eaten in weeks and it was good. She finished up quickly and did all the dishes, a small price to pay to have breakfast waiting for her when she came down.

She let Doone out and watched the squirrels eat out of the neighbor’s bird feeder as the birds dive bombed trying to get their own chance at the bird food originally intended for them. It was quite the amusing site actually.

She wanted to talk to Doone, to know more about him and his, um, abilities, but she figured he would share in his own good time. She was still trying to figure it all out in her head, and maybe it was best she didn’t know. This was all getting a bit too outrageous for even her wacky mind.

She curled up on the couch and thought about what she had to do today. A trip the the library, a trip to the mall for some pantyhose. Maybe a trip to get something special for Doone, although she wasn’t sure what. Dog treats seemed the wrong answer. Something from the gourmet food section might be more appropriate.

It was chilly today…she’d definitely have to pick a hat to wear out on her errands. Something fun and artsy. She was definitely addicted to hats now. Guess there were worse things she could be addicted to.  

Maybe she could get a few more winks before she officially started her day. . .

Doone had obviously been taking care of himself though he must be crazed having to eat dog food. (She also imagined it smelled pretty bad down there because it always gave him gas.)  She did, however, wonder how he’d gone so long without going out, so she went downstairs to check on him.

“Need to go out boy?” she said with about as much enthusiasm as a houseplant.

“I took care of it myself” he said with a grin.

“Oh god, where did you pee, you didn’t pee in this house somewhere did you?”

“No, of course not, I let myself out” he snorted.

“How on earth did you do that?”

“I told you, I’m a very unusual dog. I almost made us lunch, but I wasn’t sure if you were up to eating anything.”

And with that she stared at him as if she had seen a ghost or just heard the most preposterous thing imaginable. She realized of course that anything is possible in her world, being as though she is a little nuts and she does have a talking rottweiler living with her, but this kind of took the cake.

“You almost made us lunch?” she said weakly, more as a statement than a question.

“Yes, I actually went to culinary school.”

And with that Doone went into the livingroom, lay down on his bed under the skylight and curled up for a nap. . .

Upstairs she lay in bed still waiting, frustrated, staring out the window. She sighed. It was hard to believe it was the seven year anniversary of her little brother’s fatal car accident. She lit a candle in his memory. She wondered if he was in a better place, or just no place at all.

She was having trouble accomplishing much of anything this week. She wasn’t sure if it was her medication, the stress of the wedding she was going to and the fuss of wearing of the “ruffle dress”, or just the general stress of life that was getting to her, but something was eating her up. Something was nagging at her, bothering her. She was waiting.  What was she waiting for?

Her mind thought of Mulysa for a brief moment and the sheer terror of going back to that Asylum had her frightened. Was she waiting for Mulysa to have some one come pick her up? Was she waiting to be committed herself? She didn’t want to see those tile walls again. She didn’t want to think about the man mopping the walls, and what he might be mopping off of them. She didn’t want to be locked in, looking out at the beautiful old oak tree, and the lovely park benches, the bird baths, and the neatly manicured flower beds.

She pushed those thoughts aside and went back seven years to the phone call that her brother was dead. He’d been the passenger in a car accident, a friend driving too fast, two boys gone way too soon. A funeral full of adoring friends and family, she became weak in the knees at the sight of his blue casket. She wanted to open it, to see him and to say goodbye but it would not be allowed. She should have insisted. To this day she still wishes she had seen him, no matter what condition he was in. She could have handled it. She’d seen worse. She needed that closure. Now he is forever riding clouds on his snowboard in her mind.

Doone lay downstairs knowing his Mistress was in miserable shape.  He didn’t want to be a bother so he let himself out. . .

In Loving Memory of Joshua  1984-2003

Doone wished he could reveal all of his secrets to her, he wished he could make her see what he saw, he wished she would get up and let him out. He lopped up the stairs and gently scratched at her door, which had been closed all day yesterday, to see if she was awake.  He could hear her wrestle around a bit inside, and then get up and come to the door.  She opened it with a smile.

“Good morning puppy” she said.

“Um, good morning Mistress”

“I’m guessing you need to go out big boy, let’s go for a walk, shall we?” she said as she put on one of the art teacher’s famous crochet hats.

“Guess you’re feeling better”

“Sometimes you just need to sit and think and realize your life isn’t as bad as … oh never mind. Let’s go.”

And off they went.  Doone wasn’t sure what was really going on with his Mistress, but his plan was going to have to wait until he figured it out. There was no way he could pull it off with her in this condition. And besides, he was still…well…after all…he just wouldn’t do that.

They came back in and she fixed them breakfast. She wasn’t sure she wanted to tell Doone where she had been, thinking her fragile sanity was best not shared with a talking dog. Then again, who better to share it with?  She told the story of going to the Asylum, and the walls of tile that kind of freaked her out and then washed the dishes careful not to soak herself this time. Doone listened intently as if this was the most amazing story he’d ever heard. Or perhaps he was thinking about other things. Whatever the case, she was happy to have someone to talk to and babbled on for nearly an hour.

Doone seemed a bit mopey afterward so she offer to play but he just wanted to take a nap. She thought it wasn’t such a bad idea herself and decided to go up to her room and curl up with a book until she fell asleep. . .

Downstairs, Doone lay quietly planning out what he had to do. He’d need to get in contact with the Worm Guy to set things in motion. He thought it was time. This wasn’t going to be easy, but nothing worth doing ever was. . .

“I have to go out”

“Can’t you let yourself out” she groaned, but she knew his many talents didn’t include turning doorknobs.

“It’s good exercise for you to get up, let’s go for a walk.” Doone’s words were crystal clear in her still groggy mind which was just so odd, but what wasn’t odd about her world anymore these days?

So they went out and took a walk, she with her camera in hand, trying to capture some of the moments of spring. She felt safe walking with Doone, a fairly large rottweiler with a beautiful coat. She didn’t care much for his commentary on the women they passed by, but he was a male. There was something unusual about this dog, aside from his telepathic communication, but she just couldn’t put her finger on it.

After a long walk and a few dozen photos they arrived back at home and Doone slurped up some water and then curled up for a nap himself without “saying” a word. She wasn’t sure if she’d done something to upset him, but she figured she would just leave him be and think about something for dinner. She better make it good or he would stink the whole house up again.

She prepared the dinner and actually put a place mat down with a dinner plate for Doone. He graciously gobbled up every last bite and licked the plate clean. Then he lay back down, head on paws and just stared, not saying a word. She was now quite concerned and hoped she hadn’t done anything to upset him. She walked over and gave him a pet on the head even though she originally wasn’t going to “pet” a talking dog and then went up to her room to read. Doone stayed downstairs. . .