shrill, loud, insistent

Shrill. Loud. Insistent. Eyes darting away, always to the same spot then back to him again. She yelped. Loud, insistent. Shrill. He winced. “What? What is it?” She wagged her tail and then brushed past him then ran back. Helping. Eyes darting to the exit. “No, I’m sorry, we can’t go there. She stopped looking at it, and looked up at him, her head tilted to one side, ears cocked. Then she ran in the opposite direction, her yelps asking him to follow. He sighed. “What’s wrong?” Up, and out into the open space. She circled around him, tail wagging hard, he winced every time it smacked him, “I haven’t been gone that long, he said softly, with love and resignation. He had been gone maybe an hour. That was it. She loved him, only as a dog can. He loved her as he would his child. But she was so needy, that’s what happens when you don’t socialize ‘em. ‘Twas the fact of the matter. The birds were chirping, the sky was a light blue, with the last few sparklings of the grey of night slowly being extinguished as the sun set the sky on fire with its light. The smell of dew and fresh air, right before most of the world woke up and began farting out carbon dioxide. The ground felt solid and tender, a mother embracing her child. The air tasted of green even though there was naught but the lawn and that too more or less in a drought because of the acidity of the dogs’ pee. He sat down on the porch, she ran by him. She yelped again. Short, staccato noises. Directly in his ear. His ear rang with noise long after she was gone. He was feeling sick. Shouldn't have eaten this early in the morning. He wasn’t used to it. Digesting, working to digest his food, his stomach did not, could not know how to react. Eyes kind of tired. It had been a long few months, heck it had been a long life. Didn’t have much to complain about. Not traditionally. But damn. God fucking damn. She yelped again. Loud, shrill. Insistent. “Bas,” he almost shouted. He loved her but it was giving him a headache. And it seemed she had no reason for doing it other than just ‘cuz. And if there was no problem then why did he have to put up with this. The other two came over and licked his face. He smiled. How were they so mellow? He supposed she was the spoilt one, and the other two were more mature, having had less of the attention and love. Definitely a plausible theory. He was tired. He rubbed his eyes. Somewhere - thankfully far away - a preacher began some sermon about something. It wasn’t for one of the five prayers, but they were always going on about something. The sky was clear. He lay down on the porch and tried to fend off his three dogs who were now infinitely more interested in him. Once they were sufficiently fended off, he began to write.