The living room, floor of polished wood, scuffed in places where Lauren habitually forgets to removes the little wheels from her shoes, it’s massive flat picture box a monolithic alter to entertainment and commercialism around which all the rest of the furniture in the room is arranged, save an ancient grandfather clock which didn’t tick and a mantle above a bricked-up fireplace filled with pictures of the family, even a new one containing a golden haired dog.
*Blink*
Now the living room was an incoherent mass of brown with black smudges in front of him vaguely where the leather sofas were an instant earlier. Buddy squinted with his left eye, but matter how hard he crunched the lens nor how he cocked his head, his bad eye no longer gave him anything but a senseless mass of color; he couldn’t even distinguish floor from wall from ceiling, all lines and borders were obliterated and out of focus. He reopened his right eye and rose unsteadily to his four paws. The rapid deterioration of the vision in his left eye over the last month still left him with frequent vertigo; often the only way to get around was to keep his left eye shut, but that was tiresome and he often forgot. At least he wasn’t tripping over his paws anymore…
For all his troubles with his sight however, Buddy couldn’t complain about his family. Peter and Lauren were just as ready to love and accept him into their fold as his old owner. Their hugs and constant pets were reassuring and Lauren’s youthful energy, so different from Dr. Mathias’, was infectious so that when she occasionally was able to provoke him into a game of chase, he felt like a spry pup again.
The wife, who Buddy had since learned was called Marian, never warmed up to Buddy in the same way. The diligent cook of the family who tolerated Buddy’s presence but never went out of the way to cuddle or comfort him was oddly the human around whom Buddy spent most of his time. Both the sweet girl-child and her taller, spiteful sibling disappeared in the mornings with their father and did not return until late in the afternoon most days. Often Buddy had to find a warm spot near the stove to keep the chill out of his bones, but not so near that he was in Marian’s way for while she did not aim kicks at the golden dog, she did not care to alter the step of her thick and somewhat clumsy feet to his presence either. Of the pale child who wore nothing but black… Buddy hardly spared a thought and just kept out of her way; she hardly spent anytime down stairs anyways.
Buddy yawned and stretched, while the first few days had been like a nice vacation, his constant idleness was hard to cope with sometimes and he often resorted to patrols of the house to stave off boredom. He stalked off from the kitchen where Marian was preparing a sandwich for herself (the second today, really it was no mystery why the woman was as big as her husband and offspring combined) his long golden coat freshly restored with his regained appetite swishing about him. His luscious coat wasn’t the only thing new about him, he had regained all the weight he had lost and then some on his rich diet. Peter saw to it that he had hearty portions of kibble twice a day, but always during dinner, Lauren would sneak him not only tidbits from the table, but often over large quantities of leftovers after the rest of the family had left the table. At first, Buddy was only too happy to take this childish show of affection, especially since Peter had bought him an inferior and rather tasteless variety of dry dog food, but now that his belly had softened and his chest thickened, Buddy thought he would have to start turning away some of the girl’s offerings. “Perhaps tomorrow…” Pondered the sleek golden dog as he padded his way slowly up the long set of stairs.
He arrived in Lauren’s room , pushing the door open with his nose and sniffed a bit. Fabric softener was still strong since the last wash of the bedding with an underlay of juvenile feminine sweat from when Lauren would come home and throw herself into bed after soccer practice. There was some dust, more than downstairs since Marian did not particularly care to climb the stairs save to go to bed and also the stale odor of an old punch stain near the bed. His nose told Buddy most everything he needed to know about the room as he explored, though he still swiveled his head around, giving his right eye a chance to take in the mundane visuals. In this room, however, there was almost no need for his good eye as the overriding color of the interior was pink. Pink walls, pink bed, pink pillows and stuffed animals, even the little television was pink and lots of pens with pink fluffy bits attached to the ends littered the little desk; surprising, the floor was not pink, but the same beige as the rest of the house. Buddy gave the best post and experimental lick where he smelled Lauren’s hand grease and then settled down on the rug for his second nap of the day.
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