Chereads / Vegan and the Narcissistic dog / Chapter 3 - Chapter 3

Chapter 3 - Chapter 3

I always liked my life. Waking up to the sound of birds, I stretch my perfect, sleek body and strut to the mirror to admire my stunning reflection. Every inch of my fur glistens in the morning light, and I can't help but marvel at how effortlessly magnificent I am. As I step outside, I bask in the endless adoration and praises from everyone I encounter. Their compliments are a daily affirmation of my unrivaled beauty and charm.

 

Strangers can't resist offering me treats, their eyes filled with awe and admiration. I graciously accept their offerings, knowing I deserve every bit of their adulation. When I return home, I am greeted by the tantalizing aroma of the delicious meat Mom prepares just for me. Each bite is a reminder of my royal status in this household. Life is a series of delightful experiences, all centered around my impeccable presence.

 

But everything changed when that weird, noisy, and clumsy human came into my home. He's stealing all my things. First, it's Mom, who now splits her attention and cuddles with him. I can't believe the nerve! And now, the ultimate betrayal—he's taking my meat! The delicious, juicy meat that was always meant for me. How dare he intrude on my perfect world and claim what's rightfully mine? My once-perfect life is now disrupted by this meddling, meat-stealing intruder. How am I supposed to maintain my regal status with this usurper in my domain?

 

After that weird looking human started coming to our house almost everyday my mother changed our course meal plan completely. It used to look like this

Monday: Meat

Tuesday: Meat

Wednesday: Meat

Thursday: Meat

Friday: Meat

Saturday:Meat

Sunday: Meat

But now!

Monday

Breakfast: Cooked sweet potatoes with peas

Lunch: Brown rice with lentils and carrots

Dinner: Quinoa with green beans and chickpeas

Tuesday

Breakfast: Oatmeal with blueberries

Lunch: Barley with mixed vegetables and tofu

Dinner: Lentil stew with spinach

Wednesday

Breakfast: Mashed pumpkin with green peas

Lunch: Millet with sweet potato and kale

Dinner: Brown rice with black beans and broccoli

Thursday

Breakfast:Cooked quinoa with zucchini

Lunch: Whole-grain pasta with pumpkin and peas

Dinner: Mixed vegetables with lentils and quinoa

Friday

Breakfast: Oatmeal with apples and a dash of cinnamon

Lunch: Sweet potato with peas and green beans

Dinner: Barley with chickpeas and carrots

Saturday

Breakfast: Cooked barley with peas

Lunch: Quinoa with sweet potato and spinach

Dinner: Brown rice with lentils and zucchini

Sunday

Breakfast: Mashed chickpeas with carrots

Lunch: Millet with mixed vegetables and tofu

Dinner: Sweet potato stew with green beans 

And the weirdest part is, he actually made that meal plan and stuck it on the fridge so Mom wouldn't forget what to feed me each day! How did he manage to take over my meals and become the self-appointed chef? It's like he's trying to outdo me in every way, even in the kitchen!

Once in a while is fine when Mom is tired, but every day? This human is not good! Not good for Mom at all! He's messing with my perfect routine and taking over my kitchen. How can she let this intruder disrupt my royal life like this? It's like he's trying to claim dominion over every part of my world.

*Bark bark!*

Mom, you're being deceived!

"Looks like Choco is hungry; let's finish making dinner quickly so our dearest Choco can eat soon," the weird-looking human said. 

Dearest?? What the meat!

Only Mom can call me dearest. You can't say that, you strange human! I want to bite your ass. Although, Mom looks like she also wants to do the same!

And after dinner was finished, they both plopped down near that weird box that makes all sorts of loud noises. Mom and I used to snuggle up and watch so many things together on it—our special time. But now, this intruder is lounging in my spot, completely taking over.

It's truly discouraging. I can't believe how he's encroaching on my favorite spot on the couch, leaving me with nowhere to curl up beside Mom. It feels like every corner of my home is being taken over by this strange human. Even my favorite TV shows are tainted by his presence. How am I supposed to enjoy my cozy moments when he's right there, trying to steal everything that was once ours?

They suddenly started looking at each other, and I couldn't figure out what was happening. What are you doing, Mother? They moved their faces closer, and it looked like Mom was biting that person's lips!

I get it! Mom is fighting with that human for dominance! Go for it, Mom! Show him this is our place and that he can't just waltz in and take over everything that was ours! 

Then, to my shock, they suddenly got up from the couch, still locked in that intense face-off, and moved to the bedroom. It seemed like they were stumbling and bumping into things while they were still close together. Don't let that human win, Mom!

Although I wanted to see the epic showdown, they closed the door behind them, leaving me in suspense. I'm sure Mom will come out victorious and everything will return to the way it was.

That's what I thought and went to sleep. In the dream, everything was topsy-turvy. I was in a magical land where lettuce and chicken drumsticks were having an epic battle. The lettuce, with its crisp green leaves fluttering, was determined to fight for its place. Meanwhile, the drumstick, golden brown and glistening, was fiercely defending its right to be the top food.

The lettuce rolled around, trying to wrap itself around the drumstick with its leafy arms, but the drumstick was too quick and nimble. It dodged and spun, its crispy skin shimmering under the dreamland's strange, sparkling light. The lettuce tried to make a comeback, but the drumstick kept winning every round with a flurry of crispy kicks.

In the final showdown, the drumstick leaped high into the air, its aroma filling the dream like a victory cheer. With one final crunch, it defeated the lettuce, which fell apart in a flurry of green leaves. The drumstick landed triumphantly, now crowned the undisputed champion of the dream feast.

Just as the drumstick's victory was celebrated with a parade of confetti made of breadcrumbs and herbs, I woke up to the sound of morning. The strange dream ended with a new day dawning, and I found myself back in the reality where nothing had changed—except for the lingering taste of that peculiar dream victory.

When morning came, nothing had changed. It looks like Mom lost the battle.