Jenny and the TV (Jenny, pt 2)

Jen­ny, who is a dog, watch­es entire­ly more TV than I do these days. She can’t read, yet, but she has fig­ured out which but­tons on the remote con­trol do what, and she’s learned to iden­ti­fy the voic­es and the theme music of the pro­grams she likes best.

When I say she watch­es TV, what I mean, of course, is that she turns the TV on and lis­tens to the pro­grams. I asked her one time what she saw, when she stares at the screen, and she said, “Ghosts.” She’s a lit­tle spooked by it, I think, and so she main­ly lis­tens. She likes the edu­ca­tion­al chan­nels best, it seems.

I came home today to the strains of Dai­ly Plan­et’s end-cred­it theme music, blar­ing. She’d turned the vol­ume up as high as it’d go, then wan­dered to the kitchen to lis­ten to the ghosts speak.

Learn­ing lots?” I said.

Bul­let train,” she said. “Inter-nash-null space sta­tion. GMO grain.”

Good,” I said, crack­ing a beer. Long day.

Can I have GMO grain? Supper?”

I’ll see what I can do,” I said.

And liv­er. Liv­er good.”