But I'm Not Supposed To Be a Dog!

- 15a -

This realization stunned Henry. Not knowing what else to do, he went to Rhonda's chair and reared up to get closer to her face, placing his paws onto her lap. He looked into those dazzling blue eyes.

"Oh my," Rhonda said with a startled laugh. "He must have really liked the dinner! Look how clean that plate is!"

"Henry, no!" Abby pointed at him sternly. "Get down! No dogs at the table."

Henry dropped down and placed his head in Rhonda's lap instead.

"That's not like him at all," said Abby. "He never begs for scraps."

That's because your scraps tend to be vile.

It was making more and more sense to him now. Abby never cooked for him. Rhonda did. Abby didn't understand the Snookums reference because he'd never called her that. His confused feelings for Abby faded away, replaced by a longing to be with Rhonda.

"I guess I have that effect on people. And dogs," Rhonda added as she absently stroked his head.

Henry had a flash of inspiration. He dashed to the living room where Abby had her CDs displayed on a shelf. He examined each one until he found the one he needed and tried to extract it from the shelf. Five CDs clattered to the floor at once.

"What's going on in there?" Abby asked from the table.

He grabbed the CD he wanted and bounded back to the dining table, offering it to Rhonda.

"What's this?" she asked, amused. She read the title and then looked at Abby. "The Beach Boys? I had no idea you were a fan."

"Actually, that's not mine."

Rhonda raised an eyebrow. "You sound like one of those people caught with a bag of marijuana."

Abby laughed. "I think you left it here when you moved out."

It was Rhonda's turn to laugh. "I would not buy that."

"Come on, let's play it and see who sings along." Abby grabbed the CD, popped the disc into a nearby boom box, and sat back down.

As the strains of the first song started, Henry knew what he needed to do. Thankfully the buttons on the boom box were huge. He stood on his hind legs and leaned against the side table where the boom box sat. With one paw he carefully pressed the "skip" button until he reached the right song.

Rhonda stared in disbelief at what Henry was doing. "Does he do that often?"

"Actually no, I've never seen him do that before," Abby replied, eyebrows raised.

As the song went to the familiar chorus of "Help Me Rhonda", Rhonda's face lost all amusement.

It was working! Henry continued watching her face, hoping for some sign of recognition. He had given the CD to Rhonda as a gift.

"Wow," said Abby. "He managed to find the one song that you hate more than any other!"

"If I didn't just see him do that, I wouldn't have believed you."

She hated that song? It was Henry's turn for disbelief. How could she not mention such things to her? He must have made such a fool of himself giving her things she didn't like. He wondered what else he did that she didn't like.

"Speaking of amazing, I should show you what he wrote!" Abby said and stood up.

"Yes, show me this literary achievement."

Abby strode to her desk and removed the whiteboard from the wall. "See?" She displayed it to her friend.

Rhonda examined the board, then looked at Abby. "You didn't write this?"

She shook her head.

"Remarkable. You know, when you said Henry wrote on your board, I thought maybe he was scribbling, and you saw something in the scribbles. Like that time you saw Elvis in your toast."

Abby laughed. "The King lives, and I can't help it if sometimes he haunts my toast."

"Can he do it again?"

"I don't see why not." Abby grabbed a marker, pulled the cap off, and offered it to Henry.

They both sat on the floor to see what Henry would do.

Henry's mind went blank. Both women were staring at him, expecting him to do something amazing. What should he do? This was his moment! This could determine his very future!

He heard another dog barking outside and pricked his ears.

No! Stay focused! Everything that mattered was in this room. He looked from Abby to Rhonda, and then went to the board that Abby held up. He underlined what he had written before and then went to nuzzle Rhonda.

Rhonda looked at Abby over his head. "Well that's disappointing."

Henry bristled and pulled away. This was not the time to disappoint! He picked up the marker again and carefully spelled out Rhonda's name on the board, then drew an arrow from the first message to it. He looked eagerly at Rhonda.

She seemed to pale as she stared at the board. She looked at Abby, who wore a confused expression on her face.

"He never wrote my name!" Abby said. She looked at her friend's serious face. "What is it?"

"Do you remember when we used to share this apartment? And we drove around in that awful dinosaur of a car?"

"I still have that car."

"Oh." Rhonda cleared her throat. "Well, do you remember when I was dating that accountant? His name was Herbert, do you remember him?"

"I think so." Abby thought for a little while. "Oh! Bert! Yes, I remember he buzzed around town on that little scooter. When he took you out, you had to squeeze behind him on that little thing. You were so terrified." She tilted her head at Rhonda. "What about him?"

"He used to call me Snookums."

"No way," Abby said, eyes wide with wonder.

Chapter is in two parts. I appreciate your votes and your patience!