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Claws In The Floor
By S.D. Craig.......
or is it by her dog Nikki?
Published August 2001

S.D.Craig responds to the article in Dinky Dog and Me

Don't make me do it.  I'm a dog.  Name's Nikki. 

I'm here to tell you all, I don't want to go these places SHE takes me.  I am content to lie on my butt, growing wider and surveying life at large from the couch.  Yeah, that's a pun.  So what?  Like I said, I'm a dog, not a writer.

A Pomeranian to be specific.  At 11 lbs. 4 oz., I'm a furball and a spitfire.  Well, I used to be a spitfire before a certain "ahem" operation a few years back.  Now, I've become like a smoker gone bad, quit the habit but gained weight.  Yes, you know the type.  Always excuses.  Need I say more?

However, I do feel adored, if not left behind one time too many on the weekends around this place.  HE pets me and lets me lick his hands and talks to me in that special voice.  You know the one.

"Oh, you're such a dog.  Such a dog," as he pets my belly and scratches me in all the right places.  He calls me funny names and, come to think of it, they each have their own set of these names for moi.  To her I'm female ones like Snickerdoodle, Nikkipoo, Nik (when she's a bit tense that time of month.  HE calls me really weird ones like Dogster, OHyou'reAdog and Dogsbreath.

SHE has a hissy fit if I lick.  She likes to be clean and showers twice a day.  Shhh, don't tell her I said so.  I must be precious and cute because SHE buys me expensive food and then, need I mention, takes me to the groomer once a month where I need it or not.  I'd rather the OR NOT part. 

Claws in the floor.  That's me.  I don't like visiting sterile places, with slick shiny floors and antiseptic-smelling devices and computers.  SHE's got a computer at home and that's enough for me to get sick about.  That's another dog tale.  Later.

But when it comes to visiting the bath place or the vet, I stick those claws out and down hard.  Still trying to figure out why they don't work like ABS brakes on a Subaru, though.  Somehow, I'm always going where I don't want to go.  I wish SHE'd take the hint.  SHE never takes me to, say the pool when she swim laps, where I could feast my lovely brown eyes on some little Poodle FeFe, or to the market, where I can sniff new foods and pick up bits on the floor. 

Someone needs to warn this woman.  Dogs CAN run away.  Claws or not.

Signed,

Clawed In San Diego

About the writer: SD Craig is a freelance writer and editor of LovingYourCurves.com and was given the nickname "Chatterbox" by fellow writers. At age fifty, Craigs Southern flair and sense of humor give her plenty to write about with a rapier wit and a wacky outlook. Her articles on body image (her biggest passion), marriage/divorce and relationships, family, friends, career issues, computers, the Internet, horses, baseball, movie reviews and writing tips remind one of Erma Bombeck or Dave Barry. A freelance writer who once juggled five columns then got real, Craig welcomes your e-mails and feedback on her articles. Drop her a hello at sdcraig922@yahoo.com or stop by www.lovingyourcurves.com.

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