Null Pointer

And the Monster Is a Dog Named Rover

Life didn’t get much better than this: stretched out on his side in the lush summer grass, the warm sun beating down on him, and small hands scratching that perfect spot, right behind his ears. Reddy’s tail thumped the ground agreeably. The ear-scratcher’s high-pitched giggle wasn’t nearly as agreeable, but Reddy forgave her for disturbing the peacefulness of the afternoon. She was just a pup, after all.

The screen door slammed. Reddy sighed, sitting up. Trixie might not be a puppy anymore, she might even have a litter of her own pups, but she was still Trixie.

His ear scratcher had abandoned him, running over to the porch. “Ma! Ma! I scratched Ol’ Reddy’s ears an’ he thumped his tail. I think he liked it.”

“Yes, Reddy loves to have his ears scratched, especially if you get the really good spot right behind them.” See, Trixie paid attention to the important stuff, like making sure she scratched all the best places.

“Can we get a puppy, Ma?”

“Yeah! A puppy! Can we?” That was his ear-scratcher’s littermate, who had appeared out of nowhere, as he was wont to do.

“I want a puppy that will grow up to be big an’ red an’ fluffy, just like Ol’ Reddy.”

“An’ we can call him Rover. I’ll teach him to sit an’ rollover an’ fetch,” the young boy promised.

Reddy was dismayed when Trixie told the pups they could discuss it “when Daddy got home.”

“Yay! We get to have a puppy named Rover!” The little girl cried.

“I didn’t say that,” Trixie replied. “I said we could discuss it with Daddy, when he comes home.”

“No!” Reddy barked, hurrying over there as fast as his old body would allow. “Discussing” it with Jim was as good as doing it. Reddy knew he couldn’t do all the things he used to do, running around the yard, wrestling in the grass, and playing fetch with the new pups the way he had when Brian, Mart, Trixie, and Bobby were puppies, but surely Trixie wouldn’t add insult to injury by bringing in a younger model!

“What are you thinking?” He barked at Trixie. “No puppy-Rover!”  Trixie smiled and patted his head. “We weren’t really talking about you, Reddy. You didn’t have to come over.”

“No, you we’re talking about Reddy 2.0,” Reddy barked crossly. “Younger, faster, smarter.”

“What do you think, Reddy? I bet you’d like a puppy to play with. You used to love racing around with Bud.”

Are you crazy?!? I can’t play anymore! And pups these days have no respect for their elders. They get special treats, made just for dogs. Back when he was a pup, all a dog could hope for were table scraps. There were only two ways to get them—either by befriending one of the people, so they’d drop something, or by being quick enough to steal something off the table. Of course, that risked getting punished, but that was part of being a dog. Pups these days just couldn’t understand what it was like to be a farm dog in his day. A new puppy would leave him no dignity.

“No!” Reddy barked again. But Reddy knew how to read Trixie. It was a lost cause. Her pups had already sold her on the ill-fated Rover plan.

My worst nightmare and the monster is a dog named Rover, Reddy thought to himself, stalking off to take refuge in his doghouse with what dignity he had left.