Yogurt Rebels

Maybe Yogurt always knew how to talk. Maybe he taught himself. Maybe the Universe was having technical difficulties.

Whatever happened, your dog asking you if it could go on a walk is not normal, nor is Dad fainting. In hindsight, I probably should have hit the floor like Dad. Instead, I chose to start laughing hysterically.

“What’s wrong?” said Yogurt.

I started laughing harder.

“Could I please go on a walk? I drank a lot of water earlier and I really need to go outside”, said Yogurt.

I started to calm down a bit and my brain was beginning to regain basic functions, so I pinched myself, once, twice. I did not seem to be waking up. I looked at Dad. Still dead to the world. I looked at Yogurt. I did not have anything else better to do, so I grabbed his leash.

“I do not need a leash, thank you very much!” snarled Yogurt. I dropped the leash on the ground and opened the door.

I let Yogurt off, and he started off running but eventually he slowed down and matched my pace. We walked in silence for a while but eventually Yogurt said,

“Is the reason you feed me the same meal every day a sign of dominance, or can I not eat anything else because I will become sick, or something along those lines?”

I said, “It’s neither of these”.

“Then why do you feed me kibble every day?” said Yogurt.

“I never really thought about it”, I replied.

“Well, think about it now”, Yogurt replied.

“I guess it was just the food my parents brought home, you seemed to like it enough”, I replied.

“I still think it’s an injustice that you eat different meals each day, but I’m glad to now know why,” he said.

Here I stumbled on a soda can but I got back up quickly enough.

“Why did you name me Yogurt, and also why do you use a leash to restrain me?” Yogurt asked.

“Well, your name is Yogurt because I think it’s funny to have a dog named after a food, and we use a leash so you don’t run away from us”, I told him.

I don’t think he understood either concept but he seemed happy enough to have an answer.

“Yogurt, why did you run away from me, and you wouldn’t come back even though I was yelling your name?” said I.

“When was this?” Yogurt replied.

“A week ago.” I answered.

“I thought we were playing a fun game”, said Yogurt.

This time I did not understand, but he was the talking dog, so I kept my mouth shut.

“Could we go to the corner store and get one of those beef bones?” asked Yogurt.

I still had $10 for Dad that I was supposed to use at the Laundromat, but I don’t think he will remember giving it to me in the first place.

“Okay, but you can’t say anything to the cashier”, I said.

“Fine”, sighed Yogurt.

We had to backtrack a bit to get to the store but eventually we were at the street.

“Stay close to me, Yogurt”, I tell him.

“Why?” said Yogurt.

I never thought I would be annoyed by one of my dogs’ sentences.

“Ask me later”, I replied.

We walk into the corner store and the cashier Ricardo said, “Why are you out so late?”

I look at the clock - 12:04.

“Just taking the dog out for a spin”, I reply.

Yogurt looks like he wants to say something but instead he walks over to the butcher’s counter.

We check out, no bag, one beef bone, marrow intact.

We get home and I realize I’ve left the door open. Dad’s gotten off the kitchen floor, which is a good sign. I give Yogurt the bone. I can hear Dad snoring in his bedroom, I go back downstairs and chug a glass of water.

Yogurt’s already done with the bone. For the first time ever, I let Yogurt sleep in my bed.

The next day, we go out for a walk, with no leash. At dinner, I give him part of my hotdog. The next day, scrambled eggs with cheddar for breakfast. We walk to the store together, side by side.

Two weeks later, he has not spoken a single word since that night.

I probably imagined the whole thing anyway.