The Prescott Dog: Hazel Howls

Hazel Howls  Editorial

Hazel Howls

Very Early Morning Conversation

(a play in one act)

Our scene begins in the pre-dawn hours...the morning star still below the mountains in the east. The master bedroom is quiet and dark. Laird and Lady are deep asleep. In the corner of the room, below the bed, a pair of eyes are open. The brain behind those eyes is thinking about matters at hand.

HAZEL: Tuck! Psst, Tucker...are you awake

TUCKER: I am now.

A white head has raises up from the foot of the bed.

TUCKER: What now Hazel? Do you have any idea of the concept ‘perfect comfy’?

HAZEL: Aren’t you hungry? Don’t you want to go outside?

TUCKER: No...well, yes. Now that you bring it up. Right now though, I’m keeping mom’s feet warm.

HAZEL: Come on pal, help a girl out here. I’m really hungry.

TUCKER: Since when did you start to call me ‘pal’? Why don’t you just wake mom up? Like you did yesterday.

HAZEL: I don’t want to get read the riot act again. You know, the whole 3:30 thing, and the ‘I’m not a dairy farmer, Hazel’ speech.

TUCKER: OK, let me get this straight. I’m supposed to wake mom up so I get the speech you’re supposed to get.

The white head lowers out of Hazel’s sight.

HAZEL: I see your point.

TUCKER: You mean to tell me the ‘philosopher dog’ is reconsidering the ethics of her plan?

HAZEL: Don’t get smart, Tuck.

TUCKER: A bit late for that. Hey, why don’t you just kick the puppy?

HAZEL: I don’t know if that will work. My paw won’t fit through the puppy crate sides.

TUCKER: Kick the crate then, Einstein.

Hazel begins an extensive ‘faux’ stretch, but the moment her rear pads touch the crate, the puppy squeaks loudly at the end of an expansive yawn. The squeak, being completely unexpected, causes Hazel to jump to all fours slightly alarmed. The combined sound momentarily causes the Lady to stir just enough to roll over and continue her dream. Hazel lowers her hind quarters, sitting down next to the crate.

SORA: Hey, what’s up guys?

HAZEL: You’re awake? How long have you been awake?

SORA: Since you started yammering at Uncle Tuck. Hey, when’s breakfast?

TUCKER: As soon as Hazel comes up with a plan.

HAZEL: First off, I don’t yammer. Secondly....

Hazel never gets to her second point because at the exact moment, the puppy notices that the last third of Hazel’s tail is inside the puppy crate.

SORA: Blue Leader this is Red Devil. Bogie at ten o’clock. I’ve got a lock on the target. Employing electronic countermeasures, away missile one.

Before Hazel and Tucker could wonder out loud what the puppy was talking about, Sora had already adopted the swept back wings of an F-16 with her rear legs and flew at her bogie. The leap causes a loud banging of the crate. Hazel turns with a growl and a snap as a very sharp signal of pain arises from the attack. The bogie now employs a hasty retreat, and in doing so, accidentally slams against the side of the bed. The shock wave rolling through the bed suddenly makes Tucker aware of a pronounced itch at the base of his tail. He leaps from the bed and noisily spins on the carpet, circling his hind end desperately attempting to get to that hard to reach spot.

LADY: Just what on God’s green earth are you puppies doing?

A collective “uh-oh” filled the room. All motion stopped, as three pairs of eyes locked on the Lady now sitting up in bed. Reluctantly reaching down for her ‘Lady Shepherdess’ morning attire, the canine “herd” begins the celebratory bedlam prance and dance around the bedroom. Current time: 4:05am.

SORA: Gosh, that was fun.

TUCKER: I suppose that’s one word for it.

HAZEL: At least we didn’t get the riot act again.

LADY: (opening the patio door) You puppies are not getting me up before 6:00 a.m. tomorrow, do you hear me? Are you listening puppies?

HAZEL: Spoke too soon, I guess.

TUCKER: As usual...

SORA: Hey, did I tell you guys my real dad is a doctor?

HAZEL & TUCKER: (in unison) YES!

SORA: Where’s foster Dad?

TUCKER: He pretends to sleep through the circus.

Back inside, bladders now emptied.

HAZEL: (now with a mouthful of breakfast) Mmmm mmn fmmph...

SORA: What did she say Uncle Tuck?

TUCKER: I believe she asked for the dill pickles.


Hazel

Hazel Howls

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The Prescott Dog

P.O. Box 11868

Prescott, Arizona 86304

928.445.4811