When Naomi Met Buddy

Naomi just finished a writing assignment, it was too cute to not post.  The goal was to write freely about an experience that was life changing.  Love my little humorist.

Head-aches, Hatred and Hot Weather

806 awesome words

Thanks a lot God! The one day I have to sit in this ALL READY stuffy house you make it break 100. I can feel my head spinning. It’s almost like one of those cartoons; you know when those irritating little birds fly around the characters head until their eyes come un-crossed. Well, it feels like one of those is pecking at my forehead…repeatedly.


I stare at the dizzying brown carpet and the sound of those aggravating NASCAR announcers interrupt my thoughts. All though, the buzz of the suspicious looking fan in the corner, the creaking of the walls that looked oddly like cottage cheese, the noise screaming child outside... And the thud of my rapidly increasing pulse are all added to the many sounds forcing their way through my ears. It is slowly driving me crazy. With every unwanted breath my mouth inhales I get more and more heated. I take out my frustration on the brainless people talking on the television.


How much of a loser do you have to be to host this stupid show?! I think to myself. Wow, cars driving around in circles…That’s very entertaining.


Well at least it cant get that much worse I tell myself.


Have you ever noticed how when that thought pops into your head, it ALWAYS gets MUCH worse. Well...yeah.


Bored of the creepy sounding low lives in the background talking about stuff I’m surprised ANYONE in the world cares about, I over-exaggerate a sigh--hoping to get Grandpas attention.


It won’t work.


I cough quietly.


Nothing.


I can practically see the black and white spirals twisting in his eyes. He is hypnotized. Little hope is left, and if I want to know what that surprise is, this is my last chance.


I take a breath--working up my courage. I know I could get yelled at for asking, but I have to go for it.


“So grandpa..." I whine, trying to look as adorable as possible "where did my parents go anyways?" While batting my eyelashes and straitening my posture I submerge into thoughts of the surprise being something like a jungle gym for my room… or a life time supply of chocolate. Mmmm…chocolate. Wow! I am so WEIRD!


After this realization, my thoughts disappear like a piece of cake offered to a 5 year old child on their birthday. In lamens terms it’s gone…instantly.


Looking into my grandpas entranced eyes I wonder how he can be entertained by THESE weirdoes. They are talking about these cars, driving around in circles I may add, like they’re families all had knives to their throats. They are seriously acting ENTERTAINED.


Wow; I don’t think I’ve ever seen that great of an actor before! and for the first time that day, I am amused.


Sinking out of my thoughts I decide to give it one last try.


Scaring me a little, my next cough is drown out by his appalling response. “They went to get a dog” he says with absolutely no emotion or interest.


My thoughts ignite.


He probably doesn’t know WHAT he is talking about, mom and dad would never do that to me, they know dogs are my phobia. Besides death, THEY’RE number one.


I know,100%, whether I want to admit it or not, that he is NOT lying to me.


I know but how about we give him the benefit of the doubt?


There is no doubt Naomi!


Ugh… as always, the realistic one is probably right. Once again, thanks a lot god!


Only what seems like seconds later grandpa tells me it’s time to walk to my house and wait. The 100 degree heat was cold compared the house and over-whelmed me like a hard punch to the stomach as we step over the thresh-hold. We walk into the house where the tingling smell of tuna taunts my nose until I noticed my half eaten sandwhich. Laying on the table I decided it is still good.


God, I PROMISE, I will eat that if you don’t let the dog kill me. PLEASE , I’ll do anything.


We sit down on the sticky leather couch and after about 2 minutes of awkward silence the dreaded sound of the doorknob interrupts us dead in our seats.


His name…is Buddy. Scooting back on the couch, he jots up to the table in front of


He sniffs around, looking scared someone is going to hurt him.


WOW this dog is skinny I think to myself.


His thin brown hair sticks to his skin like someone had super-glued it there. I can feel my eyes watering-- but I can’t blink, I’m just to scared.


Then, I see him chewing something, looking over I can see what’s in his mouth. My tuna sandwich, and that was the first times that day that I felt truly blessed.