by Sandi Martinez
“The lights are bright. It’s not warm like that other bright light that warms the ground on the grass,” says Scoop, a Chihuahua with attitude.
“You should be glad we’re in here, because look outside, it’s still raining and it’s cold!” says Lucy the thin-coated chocolate Lab.
“… And you’re forgetting THE most important thing… we get a massage!” says Jazzy, a dog rescued from Katrina, now belonging to Brenda Thompson, RMSAAM’s Marketing Director (and Lisa Speaker’s mother).
“Listen, do y’all have to keep on like that? I chased around a squirrel last night and I’m exhausted. Can we just write this blog?” asks Milan, the sharp-eyed, usually sweet and gentle, Spanish Mastiff. “We haven’t got all day!”
“Hey, really I don’t mind the rain, as a matter of fact, I’m roasting in here!” says Mufu, the Alaskan Husky, his bright blue eyes glow in the corner, where he sits restless while at the same time, glancing anxiously at the promising students who will become massage therapists, his expression shouting ‘me next, me next!’ “Hey, by the way, when will we see them again?”
Jazzy stretches out languidly on the carpet, the soft music playing in the background is making her sleepy. “You’re not. Sometimes we see them again, and other times, they’re just gone. I’m a little confused myself, but we should appreciate this while we have it.” she says stone-faced, unsure.
“I kind of like that we meet new humans all the time,” Lucy winks at Mufu. “Calm down there Mr. Mastiff the giant. What do you want to say on this blog anyway? Wait, what is a blog?” she scratches behind her ear.
Scoop says with mischievous grin, “just exactly what we’ve been talking about. Except for… no one actually wrote anything.”
“With what, our nails?” Mufu challenged.
“See that funny-looking black thing there on that glass thing, I think it’s glass,” Scoop scratches under his arm. I think it’s called a laptop.”
“Yeah genius, well, do you know how to work it?” Jazzy asked as she walks over to the laptop. And with a sly unexpected move, swipes the laptop off the table and carries it in her mouth to the others. The screen is partly-black, the school’s logo on the background. “Do I have to do everything r’ound here?” she says and clicks a few times; a word document appears. “There’s your blog!
“What? Where?” they all ask in unison.
“You’re reading it silly!” Scoop says triumphantly, as he looks you straight in the eye…