Last night our den exploded! Mom said it was “lightning”. I did not wait around for further clarification before folding myself into a ball on top of Mom.
Yes, I am a superhero, but bears and suspicious recycling bins that look like bears from far away are not the same as lightning. Bears are on the ground. You can see them. You can bark at them. Lightning attacks you from out of nowhere.
FLASH, BOOOOOOM!!!!!!!!!!
Mom said, “It’s okay, Kula. Don’t be scared.” It does not seem okay Mom.
A few seconds later our den exploded again. Mom explained that lightning could not hurt me from inside the house. Then Mom went to the bathroom. I went with her. Then she went into the kitchen. Me too, obviously. Mom sat down. I sat on her feet. Mom stood up. I stood up. She moved three feet. I moved three feet.
Mom called me Velcro dog. I said Mom, that is not my superhero name. I took a moment to consider if one of my superpowers would be useful right now. I have several powers: I can detect a banana being peeled from two rooms away, locate a ball under approximately six feet of foliage, I can read Mom’s mind, and I can hear a treat wrapper at frequencies unavailable to humans. I can also become completely invisible when somebody says “let’s trim your nails.” Unfortunately, none of these powers appeared useful against lightning.
Mom told me lightning is just electricity. “It’s what makes our fridge work Kula”, she said. Hmmm, I do know about the fridge. The fridge contains salmon. Suddenly lightning seemed worth investigating.
AND THEN, I remembered something important.
Mom and I once watched a documentary on our folding lightbox thingy about Doc and Marty. They used lightning to travel through time… I looked outside.
FLASH. BOOOOOOOM!!! Great Scott, I have an idea!
I immediately began developing a plan. First, we harness the lightning. Second, we build a Flux Capacitor. Third, we travel forward through time. Mom asked why we would go to the future. BREAKFAST. Obviously. If my calculations are correct, I finish first dinner at exactly 2:14 p.m. I am then expected to wait 14 HOURS 49 MINUTES until breakfast. I am not sure who approved this schedule.
With a Flux Capacitor, we could finish dinner, activate the lightning machine and travel directly to 5:03 a.m. tomorrow morning. Breakfast. Then we could travel back to 2:13 p.m. Dinner would have just been served. Then — and this is where my intellect becomes difficult to ignore — we travel forward again.
Second breakfast.
Back.
Dinner.
Forward.
Breakfast.
Back.
Dinner.
Mom said this could create problems with the space-time continuum. I said that sounds like something people without enough breakfasts would say. Besides, I have studied quantum physics. There are apparently infinite universes, and until you open the refrigerator the salmon is both there and not there. Frankly, science seems to be on my side. There must be at least one parallel universe where dogs get breakfast seven times. I intend to find it.
Another flash filled our den. BOOOOOOM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I abandoned the Flux Capacitor project for the moment and climbed on top of Mom. Perhaps we could build it tomorrow. In daylight. Preferably with less lightning.
Mom squeezed me tighter. The rain hit the windows. I closed my eyes and tried to sleep as Mom told me a story about how she gets scared sometimes too.
She said her brain races ahead into the future and worries about things that haven’t happened yet. And then it travels backwards and worries about things that already did. Sometimes it goes back and forth all night without her ever leaving the bed.
Interesting.
Perhaps lightning is not actually required for time travel. I closed my eyes and set my internal clock to precisely 5:03 a.m….
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