The Authentic Eclectic

I Am A Renaissance Dog, And I Would Know

A tale from the dog bed, by Jessie A.

What? It’s cold. (Image by author, all rights reserved)

My name is Jessie. I live in Santa Monica with my sisters Maggie and Zena and the two furless creatures: our butler and housekeeper. The naked ones call themselves our parents, but let’s face it, their job is to clean the house, and, more importantly, cook and serve our food. So who’s kidding who?

I’ve lived here since I was a pup, and I have a few stories to tell. Sadly, my paws aren’t big enough to touch-type — it takes me a while to type up a story one letter at a time, so you’ll have to be patient.

First of all, you have to know that, in this house, I’m the gifted one. Not to blow my own horn, but someone has to! Everyone here underestimates me; they don’t realize that I’m so smart and talented. I’m an intellectual, an artist, musician, a thinker, a dreamer, a lover, and, of course, a writer.

I’m also humble.

In every way that counts, I am a renaissance dog. It helps that I can remember all my past lives. That can be a gift or a curse, depending.

To wit: Bet you didn’t know that Michelangelo had a dog, did you? Well, that was me. I was an Italian greyhound in that life; Mikey called me Bella. So who do you think sniffed…