“Naaaanaaaaa, Naaaanaaaaa .”
The voice slobbering my name is Puppy, my pet zombie. He’s slobbering and starting to cry, gamboling into my office with his hands cupped in front of him.
“Naanaaa, broken. Fix me?”
His ear has fallen off again. Poor thing, it always freaks him out when parts drop off. Zombies contrary to popular belief aren’t bloodthirsty brain eating (well they will eat brains, but most of them won’t go chasing after you for it) monsters. They are more like giant talking puppies. Giant, slightly slow, talking puppies.
He dances foot to foot in front of me, what passes for tears are welling in his big slightly bug eyes.
I smile and pat my lap. I always have tubes of epoxy around the house, I’ve found that to be the best thing for re affixing ears, nose, nails etc. He lays his head in my lap, huffing and grunting as he does. Looks like he’s going to need to be deloused again soon.
Best thing for delousing your zombie puppy is to dilute two parts bleach to four parts water, put it in a spray bottle, have your zombie puppy strip and spritz them. Pay close attention to armpits and groin. And any fleshy creases they might have. Bugs and things like to nest anywhere dark and warm. Then a nice rinse and they are good to go
It’s also a good idea to feed your zombie puppy brains at least twice a month. I go to my local butcher and get half a cow brain and half sheep or pigs brains. I’ve trained Puppy to eat it out of his own bowl with a spoon. Otherwise he’ll just make a mess.
“Naanaa sing song.”
Zombies are pretty easily entertained. Puppy especially loves children’s religious songs. And his favorite thing in the whole world is the 24-hour Evangelical programming. His favorite show is some silly shit made in the mid-90’s featuring “rappers” who raise the roof for the lord. He sits for hours on Saturday nights clapping and rocking to the music.
When it’s really good he jumps up (as best a zombie can) and does a jerky, I’m stirring a big pot of something (commonly known as the cabbage patch) dance while chanting.
“Go JC go JC GO!”
This is usually when he loses parts. He waves his arms, gyrates his hips and stomps his feet trying to make a joyful noise unto the lord. It’s all fun and games until Puppy loses an ear. Then he comes shambling and crying to me.
You might be wondering just how does someone get a pet zombie. I’m tempted to bullshit you and say that I performed some high voodoo type magic, but, honestly I have no idea. See I was tripping one night, wandered away from my friends and into a cemetery. I know, I know how uber Goth of me, but fuck you, it was good acid.
I came out of it bloody, naked and with Puppy staring down at me with his big slightly buggy eyes. He bent down, lifted me and carried me the three blocks back to my house. Now I ask you, could you turn away someone that did all that for you?
The care of a zombie is a hard thing to figure out. He was embalmed so mostly he tends to dry out sometimes. Especially his mouth, I’ve found that a mouth full of hot water can clear that right up. For his breath, I make some strong peppermint tea and have him sit with it in his mouth. Or I’ll give him toothpaste to munch on; unfortunately most zombies don’t quite have the hand eye coordination to actually brush their teeth. And as far as him losing parts and bits of skin, any good two-ton epoxy does a marvelous job of fixing him right up.
“There you go Puppy. All better?”
He gropes his ear and grins his goofy gap toothed grin at me.
“Wah show Naanaa ?”
Puppy likes to lay with his head in my lap while we watch TV. I can’t really stand the twenty-four seven JC TV he loves so we watch cartoons.
It’s been about seven months since I woke up to Puppy grinning at me. At first I won’t lie to you man, I was pretty freaked out. Freshly raised zombies are actually kind of gross. Their skin is a few different colors, usually and kind of moldy in spots. Not to mention the bad reputation they have from popular culture.
All in all Puppy is the best pet and companion I’ve ever had. He knows to keep quiet while I’m working, he knows when I need a hug, and he never ever shits on the floor.
Puppy has become more than just my big zombie puppy, he’s become my best friend and I love him.
“Wanna watch your show Puppy?”
He jumps up and starts to do his dance, arms jerking in a rough circle, a big goof ball grin on his face.
Me? I grin at him and stand up to, shuffling my feet in an approximation of some hip-hop dance move I’ve seen. We shout together.
“GO JC GO JC GO! GO JC GO JC GO!”