“New Year / Old Dog”

c. 2019 Rod Ice

All rights reserved

(2019)

Windy and warm.

Changing weather patterns in Ohio meant that, as the New Year began, typical drifts of frost and snow did not cover the landscape in my rural neighborhood. Instead, after the festive atmosphere had dissipated, and everyone had gone home, what remained was a flooded yard. Pooled with muddy water stirred by wind gusts that shook the house.

It was 54 degrees.

I walked my Black Lab after 1:00 a.m. and then decided to make a pot of coffee. While scrolling through e-mail messages in my Yahoo! Account, I discovered an ad for the ‘Woof-tronic Pet Translator.’ Their sales jargon made me laugh out loud. But then, I reread the text.

“Communicate with your pet! A Christmas gift they won’t forget! Bark-to-human functionality is just one click away. Let’s play!”

A Rolling Stones disc played on my stereo, called ‘Blue & Lonesome.’ I read the message over and over again. The download was free, after watching an ad for real estate in Hawaii. Finally, I rubbed my eyes and played the short video. Then, selected the file. Once I had installed the translator, it opened with an instruction panel. Controls were in a toolbar across the top.

“Come here, Buddy!” I called.

My dog was not interested. He snored from the kitchen like an old man after a post-meal dessert of bourbon and cigars.

“Wrangler!” I shouted. “Come here! Give this a try!”

He stood up with irritation. “Woof woof, arf! Arrrrrrrf!”

The computer screen blinked and a synthesized voice growled from the speakers. “Are you staying up all night? Mommy hated that, you know.”

I slapped the desk. “It works!”

My canine companion was unimpressed. “Yowwwwwl, woof woof! Barrrrk!”

The computer paused for a moment. Then the voice spoke again. “You should have stayed with the champagne. Coffee will keep you up all night!”

I snorted with amusement. “Hey, this is great!”

“Arf arf arf arf, wooooooof!” he replied while flapping his droopy ears.

The computer voice sounded edgy. “Great for you, maybe. Unless there are more treats in your hand, I’m going back to sleep!”

“Wrangler!” I insisted. “Hey, this program will let us have a real conversation. Not the kind I imagine after a few glasses of Jack Daniel’s and Coke. Come over here and talk!”

He rolled on his side. “Woof woof arf, barrrrrrrk! Yip yip yap!”

The computer voice was snippy. “Treats or some more of that New Year party mix you made. Okay? I don’t work for free.”

“Work??” I laughed.

“Yowwwwwwl arf arf,” he declared.

The computer was quick to translate his thought. “I protect the house. Did you forget?”

I shook my head. “I did not forget. Come on, this is great! Quit being so stubborn.”

“Yarrrrrrrf!” he replied.

The computer screen simply said “Expletive. Vocal response blocked.”

“Okay,” I said. “Treats. I get it. More treats. You have Milk Bones left in your Christmas stocking. I’ll get them if you play along with the Woof-tronic Translator.”

“Arf arf, woof woof woof! Yaaaaaaaap!” he bellowed.

The computer buzzed angrily. “Humans always play that game. Extortion for snacks. Not a good look for your species.”

I coughed while trying to sip coffee. “So, you don’t want more treats?”

“Arf arf, wooooooof!” he answered with a frown. “Yawwwwwl!”

“Yessss, I do.” the computer repeated. “Get the stocking.”

I slumped in my chair. “Look, this seems like an opportunity to share with each other. We could learn a lot here...”

“WOOF WOOF ARRRRF!” he barked.

The computer flashed a high-volume warning. “SHARE THE TREATS!”

I went to the kitchen, for a bone. He groaned while watching. As if every step was an extended moment of agony. Like he had fallen into desert sand, dying of thirst and hunger.

“Growwwwwwwwwl. Grrrrrr grrrrrr.”

The computer screen flashed another warning. “Multiple expletives, blocked.”

I handed over the Milk Bone on the way back to my desk. He chewed and crunched it into a pile of crumbs on the carpet.

“Wooooooof,” he said with satisfaction.

“Ahhhhhhhh,” the computer echoed.

My face was red. “So, now I have some questions for you...”

“Woof woof arrrrrrf!” he complained.

The computer sounded snarky. “I’m not a PhD, okay?”

My head drooped. “We’ve been buddies for almost 12 years, Wrangler. I literally raised you from a puppy. After all that time together, don’t you have any tidbits of wisdom to offer?”

“WOOF WOOF YOWWWWWWL!” he declared. “YIP YIP YIP!”

The computer buzzed on my desk. “I LIKE BACON AND CHEESE! THAT’S MY TIDBIT OF WISDOM!”

“There has to be more going on here,” I argued. “You always give me those pondering glances, when tilting your head to one side or the other. You seem to comprehend language when I talk about hunting for cats or going to Aunt Becky’s. Or seeing your grandma at the nursing home.”

“Woof, arf, woof, arf,” he said with much sarcasm. “Aaaaaarf.”

“Rodney, you are thinking too hard,” the computer translated. “I’m a dog.”

My eyes were burning. “I refuse to accept that, buddy. You are smarter than that...”

“WOOF WOOF ARF!” he howled.

“I’M… A… DOG!” the computer registered.

“We have better conversations over beer and Tennessee whiskey,” I observed. “And a bag of Canine Carryouts. This translator is a dud. A waste of technology.”

“Woof woof arf arf! my Black Lab barked.

“Now you’re making sense!” the computer said.

My thoughts were clear with purpose. “I love you, buddy. You love me. No words are necessary.”

“Woof woof! Woof woof!” he agreed.

“Less talk! More treats!” the computer reverberated.

Fatigue won out, at last. I shut down the desktop. My coffee had gone cold.

Somehow, it was nearly five o’clock in the morning. The Rolling Stones CD had finished playing, with a hollow vacuum of silence left in its wake.

The New Year had officially begun.

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