Jake's Red Foot

“Hi Jake,” called Midge as she and Booker-T entered the fence gate at Jake's house. “Where are you?”

“Hi Midge,” said Jake as he sat up and poked his head around the post. “Guess what I'm doing.”

“I know,” laughed Booker-t. “You are sleeping again.”

“You guess good Booker-T,” said Jake. “I was waiting for you two and decided to take a little nap.”

“Didn't you just get up for the morning?” asked Midge.

“I did,” said Jake. “But after breakfast I like to rest and let my food settle in my little tummy.”

“You just like to sleep,” said Midge. “I know you, remember.”

“I'm ready to go to the park,” said Jake. “I am all rested and ready to run.”

“Lets go,” said Midge as she turned to walk back toward the gate with Jake and Booker-T following behind her.

Booker-T was behind Jake as they walked along the sidewalk. “Hey Jake,” said Booker-T. “What is wrong with your foot?”

“Nothing,” said Jake.

“You are bleeding?” asked Midge turning to see the red on his foot.

“No,” said Jake.

“Why is your foot red?” asked Booker-T.

“My owner's nephew was at the house yesterday and he was doing something she called Finger painting,” said Jake. “He dropped the paper on the floor and I stepped on it.”

“Finger painting?” asked Midge. “What is finger painting?”

“He was painting a picture with his fingers,” said Jake. “He don't use a brush.”

“That must be really messy,” said Booker-T. “Why would you paint with your fingers?”

“I don't know,” said Jake. “He was having a lot of fun. I was watching him for a while and then he went to show my owner what he did and dropped the paper on the floor. I stood up and my foot hit the paper. He loves the color red.”

“Your owner didn't wash it off?” asked Midge.

“She got most of it off, but some is still there,” said Jake.

“Wow, nice color,” said Midge looking at his foot,” said Midge. “My owner put that color on my toe nails one time.”

“I remember when she did that,” laughed Jake.

“You didn't like it?” asked Midge.

“It was pretty,” said Jake. “You only wore it one time.”

“She never put it back on after it came off,” said Midge. “I don't know why. I liked it.”

“I'm glad you didn't hurt your foot,” said Booker-T. “I saw that red color and thought you hurt your foot on something.”

“Maybe I can do paw painting,” laughed Jake. “He can do finger painting and I will do paw painting.”

“Paw painting sounds like fun,” said Midge. “Do you think we could try it? My owner has some paint in the garage.”

“I think we have to use special kind of paint,” said Jake. “I don't think we can use the kind of paint that is in your garage.”

“There is different kinds of paint?” asked Booker-T.

“Yes,” said Jake. “His paints were in a little bottle and he would stick his fingers in it and put it on the paper. Sometimes he dumped it on the paper and then spread it around with his fingers.”

“Sounds like it is messy,” said Midge.

“It is,” said Jake. “He was red, green and blue when he was finished with his picture.”

“What did he paint the picture of?” asked Booker-T. “Was it pretty?”

“I don't know what it was?” said Jake. “It didn't look like anything. To me, it looked like just a bunch of colors on the paper. My owner said it was really pretty.”

“Maybe she was just being nice,” said Booker-T.

“It looked a little like that picture in your living room, Midge,” said Jake.

“My owner calls that picture something called modern art,” said Midge. “I guess modern art don't have to look like anything.”

“I like pictures of houses, trees and those kind of things,” said Jake.

“Me too,” agreed Midge. “I think I could do that modern art stuff. It looks like someone just spilled paint on the paper.”

“Humans buy that stuff?” asked Booker-T. “I don't think my owner has any of those kind of pictures.”

“Mine only has the one,” said Midge. “But her mother gave it to her. She liked that kind of stuff.”

“Maybe the humans that paint those kind of pictures started out doing finger painting,” laughed Booker-T.

“Maybe they did,” agreed Jake. “My owner has the finger paintings on her refrigerator.”

“My owner's sister does that with her little boy's pictures,” said Midge. “But he doesn't paint. He makes stick people.”

“Are we going to the park or are we going to stand here and talk about painting pictures?” asked Booker-T. “I am ready to go play.”

“I'm ready to go run and play a little too,” said Midge. “It will be winter soon and snow will be on the ground.”

“Then we can come slide down the hill in the snow,” said Jake. “That's fun.”

“And it's cold,” said Midge. “It is hard to run when the snow gets too deep. I like summer better.”

“Me too,” said Booker-T.

“What is Gabby going to do this winter?” asked Jake. “Will your owner let him come in the house again this year?”

“I don't know,” said Midge. “Maybe Gabby can hang out around the back door and she will bring him in.”

“I know he sure liked being in the warm house last winter,” said Booker-T. “It was nice of your owner to take care of him.”

The three crossed the street and entered the park. Suddenly someone came running up to them.. “Hey Midge! How are you?”

Midge quickly turned toward the voice. “Rusty!” she said. “How are you. It has been a long time since we saw you. Where have you been?”

“I was staying across town,” said Rusty. “I had a friend over there I was playing with and spending time with, but my friend disappeared and I haven't seen him for a few days. I waited but when he didn't come back, I thought I would come back here. I missed you guys.”

“We are glad to see you Rusty,” smiled Jake. “We didn't know what happened to you.”

“I'm glad to be back here,” said Rusty. “What are you guys doing?”

“We came to the park to play,” said Booker-T. “Do you want to come play with us?”

“I would like that,” said Rusty. “Do you mind if I do?”

“Of course, we don't mind,” said Midge. “Lets go. I'll race you to the pond.”

The four friends took off running across the park and Jake and Midge leaped into the pond when they reached it.