Coonhound and macaroni dream

I'm a well-rested dog. I need a lot of sleep to keep my high energy level and swimming ability. Not to mention my good looks.

When I sleep, I sometimes dream. Mom and Dad tell me that my limbs jerk around as if I'm running, and I woof softly. I'm probably chasing a rabbit or something. But I'm a private dog, and I'd rather not talk about my own dreams. Let me tell you instead about the dream Dad had last night.

Dad was cycling in the neighborhood around dinnertime, and stopped and got talking to some new neighbors. They invited him in, and he watched them make macaroni and cheese. This was not the kind of macaroni and cheese that comes out of a box. They had boiled the noodles and were stirring in chunks of real cheese. Mmmmmm. There were enough noodles for five families, and it was a lot of work stirring them all. Dad noticed that they weren't using enough cheese. I'll have to have a few words with them if I ever meet them: More cheese, please.

They offered some macaroni to Dad, but he said no thanks. He wanted to finish his bike ride before it got dark. Dad, you are an idiot. How many times to I have to tell you: When someone offers you food, take it. If they don't offer it, take it anyway. Sheesh.

In addition to being friendly, the neighbors also had an ulterior motive for asking Dad in: they wanted him to talk their son out of his latest crazy scheme. He wanted to go door-to-door, collecting pledges for him to do a school assignment. If he got the report written and handed in on time, they'd pay up. Dad tried to explain that people just didn't do that sort of thing, so the boy changed his plan so the pledges would go toward the kid grooming his coonhound.

Now, I think that's an abomination. Dogs should not be forced to suffer the humiliation of grooming. I've learned to put up with Mom "stripping" me with that special brush, but that doesn't mean I like it. What's really ironic is that no one in his right mind grooms a coonhound. Except Mom. She grooms Juno just because Juno likes the attention. Juno's hair is so short that it doesn't really need it. I told you that my sister was stupid.

Dad had a tougher time with this idea. After all, the kid said, people make pledges toward the Dog Jog, which benefits dogs. Why need make pledges toward benefitting a kid's coondog? Dad was eying those noodles, and apparently forgot about coonhounds not needing grooming. Finally the macaroni won, and Dad accepted the next offer of the cheese-covered noodles.

But just when Dad was going to start to eat, a stranger drove up in a pickup truck with a big bear in the back. Everyone was scared of the bear. Of course, if I had been there, I wouldn't have been scared. But then the guy pulled a rifle out of his truck and started shooting people. The noise made Dad wake up.

I'm a brave dog, but even I would have been scared of the rifle. When Mom and Dad first got me, I was really afraid of gunshots and fireworks. I even got nervous in thunderstorms. I'm over that now. But I still prefer to do my hunting alone, without a gun. And without a human hunter.

And Dad, I feel that somehow the whole bear and rifle thing could have been avoided if you'd just accepted that first plate of macaroni.