Bye-Bye-Birdie

"Bosley! Get out of there!" Bosley flinched as the lid of the trash can slammed down just inches from his snout, blocking the lovely wafting smells of last night's leftovers. "Bad dog! No garbage for you."

Bosley dropped from his hind legs down to all fours and chuffed his disgust at this turn of events. He cast his baleful droopy-eyed gaze upwards at the tall human who had thwarted his plans. The human, whose name was Neil, glared back down at him, hands on his hips and a frown on his hairless face. "Go lie down." He pointed a long finger towards the laundry room, where Bosley's so-called dog bed resided. Grumbling to himself, Bosley waddled in the opposite direction towards the living room. He plopped down onto the braided rug under the coffee table and sighed heavily. 

"I swear, that dog's always into something." Neil grumbled to the other human, the one with the fur on his chin named Fred.

Bosley had come to them as an inheritance, of sorts, when Fred's grandmother passed away and none of the other family members wanted to take him. Neil wanted to drop the old Basset Hound off at the pound, but the more soft-hearted Fred hadn't let him do it. His grandmother loved that dog, though only she knew why. Bosley was generally known throughout the family to be bad tempered and gassy, neither of which did much to endear him to anyone other than Fred's grandmother, Francine. 

Bosley knew none of this. All he knew was that one day his beloved human best friend, with droopy eyes not unlike his own, hadn't woken up to take him out for his morning potty like usual. He'd then found himself bundled off to live in this tiny city apartment with only a potty pad to do his business on, no back yard with grass and interesting things to sniff. 

"I think he's bored." Fred stated. "But I don't know what to do about it. He doesn't seem to like toys, and last time I tried to walk him he lay down on the sidewalk and refused to go anywhere." Fred leaned down to look at Bosley under the coffee table. "Maybe he's grieving for my gran?"

“Maybe?” Neil's head appeared next to Fred's. "Or maybe he's just an asshole. Wait, is it just me, or have his ears gotten longer?"

Fred gave Neil a sideways look and laughed. "Of course not." Then he looked at Bosley again and a small frown line appeared between his eyes. "But I see what you mean, they do look extra-long at this angle, don't they?" Bosley stared back at them, then blasted out a fart, causing both heads to abruptly disappear from view.

Later Neil discovered a turd centered on the welcome mat by the front door. Ears dragging, Bosley lumbered from the hallway into the kitchen to examine his (unsatisfyingly empty) food bowl and left the humans to bicker amongst themselves about whether the rug would have to be thrown out or not.

Francine hadn't bickered, not that there'd been any other human in the house for her to argue with. She also hadn't gotten bent out of shape if a poop appeared where poop didn't belong on occasion. She was old, too, she understood that sometimes these things happen.

That night Bosley managed to wrangle a pork chop bone out of the trash without either human noticing, which he ate with relish while the rest of the household was sleeping. In the morning, Neil found Bosley had vomited most of it back up on his shoes. 

Bosley tuned out Neil’s squawking and plopped down where he was with a burp. He still hadn't had his breakfast, but all the humans cared about were Neil’s shoes. No one seemed to have noticed he was practically wasting away from hunger. "Woof." Bosley let out a pitiful little bark to remind the humans how hungry he was. Only Ted seemed to get the message; Neil was still frantically dabbing at his Nikes with a damp paper towel.

"Come on Boz, let's get you some dog food."

Bosley followed Ted into the kitchen, his ears now dragging behind him, and watched sadly as kibbles rattled into his bowl from the big bag in the pantry. The little nuggets felt wrong on his tongue and were hard on his teeth, but he ate them anyway knowing that was all he would be offered. He sorely missed the cans of soft, deliciously smelly wet food that Francine fed him twice a day. 

By Saturday Bosley's ears were long enough that he could wrap them right around himself, something which he found quite useful when napping. There was no longer any doubt on the part of the humans, either, that something odd was happening.

"Hey guys, check this out. I had to jump on a live to see if anybody's seen anything like this before." Neil thrust his phone into Bosley's face while he narrated to the empty air. Bosley glared at the phone and the tiny lines of text and emoji's that scrolled across it. Bosley didn’t like phones. Both Ted and Neil were rarely ever without theirs, but Francine hadn't owned one, a fact Bosley had heard her proudly proclaim on more than one occasion. 

Later that same day, Neil and his phone were back again. Neil propped himself up awkwardly on one elbow next to Bosley, who was lying in a patch of sun by the window. Smiling widely as if he and Bosley were best buddies, Neil held the phone out at arm's length and started talking in a high, artificially cheerful voice. "I didn't expect that earlier video to blow up like that, wow, but I'm happy to answer all your questions with my guy Bosley here."

Bosley snorted and flopped over on his side, his back to Neil and his device. He pretended to be asleep in the hopes his tormentor would get the hint and go away. He eventually dozed off for real against a backdrop of Neil and Ted excitedly chattering about how Bosley and his ears had "gone viral," whatever that was.

That night, ears wrapped around him like a cocoon, Bosley dreamt that a younger, spryer version of Francine woke him, a finger to her lips to let him know not to bark. She fed him his favorite treats, then led him to the living room window and opened it before helping Bosley scramble up onto the sill. 

"Are you ready, Bosley? Shall we fly?" Bosley licked her face as Francine slung her arms around his neck. Then he leapt, carrying them both out into the night sky, his ears flapping like giant wings. Together, they flew higher and higher as he did zoomies across the Mily Way.

The next morning Ted found Bosley curled peacefully on the sofa, where he wasn't supposed to sleep. His ears were back to normal size, and his droopy eyes were open but unseeing. Ted sighed and stroked Bosley's snout softly before whispering. "I'll miss you, Boz. Run free."

Image credit: https://thumbs.dreamstime.com/z/funny-beagle-dog-flying-air-flapping-ears-dog-fly-sky-132987545.jpg