Devonne Brown

“It’s jacked up. Nobody consulted me about a standard damned poodle coming into this house. Life was just fine. It’s jacked up as shit,” said Norris. He stomped in a circle and thumped his tail before he could compose himself to continue. He was too damned mad. Norris was without words. “This had better not interfere with chairtime,” Norris said. The reporter was getting an earful.

“Chairtime is the most comfortable nap time and place in all creation. Mom’s belly is in optimum curlup position in chairtime. Chairtime is sacred. That, that poodle better not mess it up.” said Norris. He sounded menacing when he hissed those last few words. I wouldn’t cross him. 

“What about you Madam?” the reporter from channel 12 asked. Madam’s whiskers wiggled; she sensed danger. “Mom is always nice,” said Madam. 

“What about you Madam? Why do you perch on the motorcycle in front of the washer and dryer all day long?” asked Norris. He was mocking the reporter and making fun of Madam. 

“I don’ because you knock me off,” said Madam. She vanished like black cats do. Madam could have been traumatized to the bone for all Norris cared.  

Norris curled his tail around himself, tucked his paws, and closed his eyes. “When Madam has an opinion, I’ll let you know what it is. Opal’s a curly West Virginia brown dog, a nuisance, a soup hound,” said Norris. “You can call her a poodle if you want to, it sounds as stupid as she is. Poodle.” 

“Opal has learned many tricks, she’s very affectionate, and tries hard to make friends,” I said.

“No one cares what you have to say, this interview isn’t about you. Go pour some cream in my bowl and put the poodle outside,” said Norris.

“Nuff said,” I poured the cream, put the poodle outside, and pulled up a chair. Norris had more laundry he wanted to air. He reassembled his loaf position and thumped his tail again. His ears twitched. Norris had opinions.

The reporter honed in on Norris. The tail thump and ear twitches didn’t give off a happy vibe. “So, you don’t like Opal?”

“As far as dog’s go, she’s easy. I can get her out of my space and face in less than a second. She’s a skeptic of the noises of the universe, let alone me. The Madam, super fraidy-cat, can move her just as fast, but for the most part, Opal flops somewhere, ruining furniture,” said Norris.

“Opal looks like a complete idiot every morning when Mom makes her do her tricks. She twirls, she sits, and does a terrible stay. She’ll do anything for a piece of hot dog. I swear Mom builds anticipation to make it worse. She slices the hot dogs into little pieces and cooks them in the microwave. She waits until hot dog slices cool. That dog would stand on her head backwards for a bit of hot dog. Pathetic. Opal’s passionate about pairing those hot dog pieces to basic obedience commands. Opal can perform when she wants,” said Norris. He laughed an ugly cat laugh. “What kind of creature does tricks for hot dogs?”

“Then when Opal gets in Mom’s face when she’s working, and Mom tells her to sit, she goes and gets on the couch. Real obedient. Stubborn cow,” said Norris. 

“Would you have approved the adoption?” the reporter asked.

“As long as I’m in charge, she can adopt an elephant,” said Norris. He meant it. “I am a grouchy-assed cat with delusions of grandeur. Nothing scares me, least of all a poodle. I raised two teenage boys and all their friends. A poodle? Please.”