I know my name because I am smart. My name is Chai. My people-parents think they’re funny, so they named me after their favorite hot drink. They say that my light brown spots remind them of a chai latte and my white fur is like frothed milk. Apparently, my personality is also a bit “spicy,” whatever that means. I’ve never had a latte myself, but I would probably like it. I like most things, even if they aren’t “food,” per se.
Did I mention that I know my name? Sometimes I pretend not to know it, especially if I want to chase something instead of coming back. I especially like deer; they are fast. I like cats too, but the cat across the street is scary. When I go on a walk with my people-parents and I stray into that cat’s yard, he chases me away.
Sometimes I don’t have to be called and I come back on my own, especially in the morning. Morning is my favorite because morning is breakfast time. My people-parents play this game with me called “find your food.” They move my bowl around the house, and I have to find it before I eat. I used to be really bad at it, but I’ve gotten a lot better since I learned to use my nose, and now I consider finding my food my most valuable skill.
After “find your food,” most days my mom-person leaves and then comes back later. Sometimes she stays home though, and for some reason she thinks she has things to do besides playing with me. My dad-person used to leave too, but now he usually just stays home and listens to a light-and-noise box for hours on end. He’s the boring one, but he does take me on walks from time to time, so I guess he’s okay. I usually nap for most of the day when he’s the only one home (like I said, he’s the boring one). Sometimes I bark at nothing, just to make sure he’s awake.
I had a bit of a rough start to life and lived in a shelter once, but I like my life now. My people-parents are different from the other dogs I lived with at the shelter, and some of the things they do don’t make much sense to me. Still, I think my people-parents and their kind aren’t that different from me. They don’t get as excited about breakfast as I do, but I’m not the only one who can become frantic about chasing something that I feel like I need “right now.” From time to time, my dad-person gets himself all nervous and he keeps me up late while he stares at that light-and-noise box or these stacks of flat white sheets with dark markings. Maybe he’s playing another version of “find your food.” Why else would someone focus on one thing for so long? Then again, I know he can open the big white cold-box and get food whenever he wants, so maybe it’s a different game. Maybe I’ll figure it out some day. I did figure out my name, so I am pretty smart.
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Story by: Will Young