by Graham B.
Even dogs need a little freedom.
| If only I could fly, Jet thought, staring at the open window.
The Dachshund wagged his tail furiously at the thought of being OUTSIDE. His nose teased him with the overwhelming odors of a much bigger world. The fresh scent of trees in bloom mixed with the earthy smells of lawns, to clash with pungent diesel fumes of an idling mail truck.
I can smell the mail truck! I should be clamping my jaws on a mailman's sweaty socks right now! Why do I only get to be OUTSIDE for fifteen minutes each day? Why is the Man so stingy with our time?
There were no answers, only the maddening scents. Now the tangy metallic smell of the fire hydrant just out front wafted in and sent his tail into a wind milling frenzy.
I gotta get OUT!
Jet stood in front of the front door, the portal to the wonder OUTSIDE. He barked, and got no answer. The Man wouldn't be home for hours, and only he could use the doorknob, with his strange articulated forepaws.
Jet's sensitive ears picked up another motor. It puttered by, sputtering and stalling, badly in need of maintenance. He smelled burned oil, and then -
Jet took a running leap and grasped the doorknob in his mouth. He slipped off and plopped to the floor. He jumped again and grabbed, slipped off again. Undaunted, Jet leaped and grasped the knob with more vigor - and held on.
The door now had an odd wienerdog-shaped ornament hanging from its knob, whining and thrashing his legs.
Then, incredibly, the door creaked, and slowly inched open. The Man hadn't closed it completely!
Jet pressed his nose into the widening gap, pushed the door open, and dashed out into sun, sounds and scents of a beautiful day.