Author Information
My Pet Human
My Pet Human
Andrés Villarreal
My pet human is the best. He walks about in 2 legs, all tall and thin, wiggling his arms around. I named him Buddy. For centuries humans have been considered our best friends. I’ve had Buddy for about 35 years, although through his eyes they feel like 5 years (I know, humans are stupid). He has always been a good boy; he brings me food and drinks, cleans up my mess, accompanies me on my daily walks, and he even works for me as a personal chauffeur for free. I can speak his language, but I pretend I don’t because humans talk too much. I’m afraid if I ever told him, he would never shut up. My friends do the same thing with their humans. I keep him inside a huge cage so he doesn’t mess up my yard. He doesn’t poop outside because he knows I’ll get mad and yell at him. Occasionally though, I allow him to come outside so that I can play with him. He loves to toss my yellow smiley-face ball, so every time he throws it, I bring it back so that he can throw it again. I hate baths, but I’ve trained Buddy so that whenever I get really smelly, he gives me one. We still have some work to do though, because sometimes he attempts to bathe me against my will. It’s hard to train a human. Anyway, I love Buddy and he loves me.
Since last week I’ve been feeling kind of weird. I’m nauseous and dizzy, and I feel weak. I’m sure it’s no big deal, but I’ve decided to see my human doctor anyway. I summon Buddy with a whiny howl, which means, “I need you”. He comes immediately; I drop to the ground and make this sad face I always do to signal him to get me to the doctor. Without hesitation, he gets me in the car and drives to 50 Houndsditch Street, my doctor’s address. In the waiting room, I run into my friend Jeff who tells me he sprained his leg while playing with Goofy, his human. I also see Sharon, the world’s most annoying being. I try to avoid eye contact, but she finally sees me, so I’m forced to go over and say Hello. Every single time I see her she tells me about how smart and handsome her son is. This time however, she is sad because her son has just moved to the city with his own human. I see this blonde, gorgeous gal walking with his cute, fuzzy human. I’m definitely talking to her after my appointment.
Finally, Dr. Sparky calls me in. He starts interviewing Buddy. “Has he been eating well?” “Has he been active?” “Is he sleeping alright?” Sparky proceeds to examine me physically. When he presses my chest, it really hurts. He presses my tongue with one of those long wooden sticks that I hate. The doctor excuses himself and tells us to wait in the room. Buddy seems nervous. I smile and lick his hand to comfort him. Sparky comes back with a large syringe filled with a transparent liquid. I’m brave, so I don’t really mind the needle. The doctor explains my condition to Buddy and his face turns as pale as snow. I didn’t quite understand the diagnosis. Buddy approaches my head and with tears in his eyes, he kisses my forehead. I don’t know why he gets so emotional; this will probably take just a couple of minutes. Buddy covers his mouth with his hands as I feel the needle being injected in my butt. I instantly feel my body going numb. I smile at Buddy one last time before I fall asleep.
