The Adventures of Spike the Wonder Dog by Bill Boggs

Author:Bill Boggs
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: N/A
Publisher: Post Hill Press
Published: 2020-03-12T00:00:00+00:00

11

The Show

“Well, Spike,” Bud says, “let’s see how these New Yorkers react to a little livestock grazing around their office today. You’re going in, and going in on a crazy day. First guest is a guy on with a device to convert sound waves from uncontrollable snoring into a renewable source of home energy. He just got investors from Shark Tank.”

I’m glad to get out of the trailer. Donna Hanover’s disappeared. Bud’s hoping maybe she’s in rehab, and I’m havin’ boring days alone. My only activity’s improvising some kind of workout to keep me the big bruiser I am, ’cause in New York I’m seein’ a lot of people who’re in way better shape than their dogs. Maybe the mayor oughta announce that walkin’ your dog down the block a couple of times a day is not building muscle tone.

I’m hearin’ some dogs are being fat-shamed by friends of their owners, so they’re sent to Doggie Weight Control, where they get the stimulating experience of walking on a treadmill all day while staring at a wall. My new fitness routine isn’t as good as bouncing around the yard pretending to be Muhammad Ali, but at least I’m makin’ an effort.

I got a version of a spinning class where I stand in the middle of the living room whirling around in a circle for ten minutes. First time I do it, I get kinda dizzy and crash into the end table by the TV and bust its legs, and the crystal vase on top smashes me in the head, but I’m only dazed.

Step aerobics is simple. All I do is jump on and off the sofa a hundred times for leg strength and cardio. This might be a little tough on the leather, ’cause it’s scratching up real fast from my nails. Sofa’s also developing a big worn spot on the side from where I’m pushing it around with my head.

I’m also working on slow-movement walking. I started doin’ it to cheer myself up from the plight of living in a peewee space in New York with my only company bein’ a crazy wall-bangin’ neighbor.

I got the slow-walking idea from watchin’ people in TV commercials who seem to be at the height of human happiness when they’re in slow motion. They could be curing a spastic colon or contemplating the prospects of life-threatening spinal surgery—whatever it is, if they’re doing it in slo-mo, they’re beamin’ wide-eyed and grinning with moronic joy.

And check this out—even food looks happier being piled on a plate in slow motion. I’m still waitin’ for the desired cheery effect to kick in. I tried slow walking on the street but had to stop ’cause Bud thought I was havin’ a stroke.

On the way to the station that chilly morning, I’m seein’ more homeless people. They’re shaking little cups of coins while everybody’s rushing by, pretending not to see them. I get a sadness I never felt before. Back in High Point, everybody just seemed okay.

There’s another thing that’s been makin’ me glum.

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