Dante is quite large for a puppy but he is still just a little dog. It has only been, at most, six months since he arrived in the world and just because he mastered walking at the first go doesn’t mean he easily grasps more exotic concepts.
On Sunday, Raymond picked up some new pajama bottoms. ‘Sleep pants’, they’re called. Both pairs are a dark, striking plaid. Sunday evening as bedtime approached, he donned them. He wandered out to survey the house.
Dante went insane. He growled. He barked. He leaped forward, baring his teeth, and then cowered back again, caught between bravado and terror. Hannah gave a few hesitant barks and then stopped, puzzled.
Raymond, who has spent much time with Dante, crouched down and talked to him, and Dante came up and sniffed him. He licked Raymond’s face. He calmed down. Raymond wandered back into his room and then out agian.
Dante went insane. Next verse same as the first. This time, Raymond stood up again and showed his pants to Dante. Dante sniffed them. Then Raymond put his hands in his pockets, making his pants ripple.
Dante went insane.
Raymond pulled out his other pair of plaid sleep pants and waved them at Dante. Dante was terrified. He went into his room and Dante dashed in to bark at his legs. He came out and Dante ran back to me whining. Then he charged the legs again and Hannah body blocked him.
The plaid pillars that moved — he couldn’t connect them to Raymond, who pets him.
Last night he was once again frightened by the plaid.
This morning he pushed his head under Michelle’s hand for petting. Later, when she stood up from where she’d been sleeping on the couch, he went insane, frightened terribly by this stranger who had somehow snuck in and replaced the nice couch person. It was like she’d turned into a cat, those mystery beasts that lurk in the garage.