A Day in the Life of Pedro the Bulldog

It’s quarter to six in the morning so I slowly drag my feet to the doorway. Gotta take it slowly but surely, you see, my hips ache and I’ve gained quite a few pounds over the last weeks from lack of activity.

Took me about five minutes to get the backdoor where I’m sure Meow was probably lounging at for time now. I know he’s there, he’s an early starter and I can smell him. I see a bit of Meow shadow from my right eye – my good eye these days. The cloud on my left eye has gotten worse since last week, and I can now hardly see anything from it except when the sun’s high. Oh well, what’s a 12 year old bulldog gonna do? At least I still have my sense of smell – that’s what I use to guide me through especially in the dark.

Speaking of Meow. Back in the day I didn’t warm up to him because he scratched my eye! I was sniffing him as he’s new to my side of the yard, and the little fella probably thought I’d eat him up. He could have asked so he would know he wasn’t my taste. I would go for a scrap of bread or a fallen green mango from the tree in a heartbeat than even think of licking him. Hmph.

When the more active dogs Theon and Rex started chasing him when they feel like it, Meow suddenly became my shadow and even invaded my space in the laundry room. I couldn’t get mad with The young cat for a long time, the poor guy’s all alone in a land of dogs after all. And after our meals when he’d rub his side tummy on my cheek I think it’s sweet. Sometimes. Most of the times I couldn’t be bothered feeling anything. Meow’s a moody fella, so I just let him be.

Now where are the humans? My tummy’s grumbling. I’d give them a couple of yells.

Arf!

Arf!

Ok, here comes my aunt and my food. What did I tell ya?

After breakfast I’ll have a good slow walk around the backyard to do my business. And then mum and dad will probably be working in the living room where I’d be snoozing comfortably on my blanket. Of course, throughout the day I gotta stretch these legs (just in time for my biobreaks), and as usual mum would patiently guide me through the door. Most of time I’m lucky, and I’d have a treat from her to lure me out to the yard.

I don’t know why they always cup my face in their hands and look at me as if I did something funny? I just lay there all day doing nothing special but stare into space, sleep and snore and fart. What’s the big fuss?

The highlight of my day is when dad lures me to my dinner bowl. Nothing beats a hefty dinner at the end of my full packed day. I’d like to consider it as a reward for myself for being a good boy. I don’t need to hear it. I know it from mum’s loving look and dad’s choosing to do his naps on the couch next to my blanket each day. I can read mum’s mind and she always tells me that I’m her little angel here on earth. I guess that’s why they never skip any of my meals. I’m a lucky guy!

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