On the 7th Day

doG decided he needed a hobby. Mrs. doG had been complaining that he was spending too much time around the house, cluttering up the place as it were. So, bright and early on Monday, he set about making himself a universe.

Most of the day was spent creating the heavens and the earth, because he needed somewhere to sit and he figured this universe might be around for a while. Around 3 he called for Mrs. doG to come and check his progress, proud of what he had done. However, Mrs. doG merely sniffed and said

“Well, it’s better than nothing.” Muttering under his breath, doG locked the door of his laboratory so he could continue work uninterrupted. It didn’t take him long to create Man; a stomach and a penis and he was about done. Even so, he wanted to take a bit more time over woman. He took a little longer than was perhaps strictly necessary, but hey, you can do that when you’re doG.

On Tuesday he was up bright and early and ready to start on the beasts of the field.

“This is where the fun really begins” he thought. For hour after hour, he toiled happily at his work bench. Lions and dogs, caterpillars and horses, elephants, cats, stoats and cows all rolled off the production line one after another. Zebras and kangaroos, armadillos and oxen soon followed. doG was in the groove and life was good.

But by the time Wednesday morning rolled around. doG was feeling a little fed up. The challenge was gone you see. This was too easy. He scrawled a few sketches on his notepad, and over the next couple of hours cranked out sheep and pigs, tortoises and antelope but when he took a step back and found himself admiring the duck-billed platypus, he realized it was time for a break.

“All work and no play makes doG a dull boy” he told himself and looked around for a diversion.

It was then he remembered that Mrs. doG had gone out for the day. Greedily he scanned the contents of the pantry, rubbed his hands together and thought

“Let’s see what I can make with this lot.”

The de’il makes work for idle hands and it wasn’t long before doG had come up with the formula for hallucigenic drugs. It was a long afternoon, filled with screams and manic laughter and by the time Mrs. doG came home from the shops, our hero was slumped in the corner, drooling slightly and with brownie crumbs on his shirt.

But look at what he had created! Giraffes and butterflies and tropical fish in fantastic psychedelic colors. Coral and salamanders and hummingbirds, oh my. Even Mrs. doG had to admit, she was impressed. But she bundled him off to bed nonetheless and having strapped him down, set about the task of cleaning up the mess he’d left in the kitchen. Sweeping the ingredients of half completed dragons and unicorns into the bin, she shook her head fondly.

“What will he get up to next” she wondered.

If only she had known.

For doG was in a foul mood when he awoke the next day, and with barely a grunt, he headed for his lab and closed the door. Sawing and banging sounds emitted from the room for the rest of the morning and it was nearly dinnertime before he emerged, with a vicious smile on his face and a cage full of…mosquitoes.

“Bwahahahahah!” he laughed, while Mrs. doG looked on in horror.

“Oh, you can’t!” she protested. “Those things are terrible!”

“You just watch me” he muttered and went off to bed.

Friday was a little better. Feeling more than a little guilty about his behavior yesterday, doG worked feverishly for hours without a break. By noon he’d created chickens, tigers, lizards and buffalo. Before the afternoon was done, he was just about finished with the animal kingdom. And, that got him into trouble once more. It was just a simple idea; one that he’d been mulling for some time. What would happen if he took barley, malt, water and hops and treated them just right…

Well of course, you know how beer is made, right? Oh, doG was pleased and decided to throw himself a little party to celebrate. Which went on loooong into the night. Long after Mrs. doG rolled her eyes and headed for bed, locking the door behind her. Long after he figured out the formula for Scotch whisky. But long before he wondered if perhaps he should have invented aspirin first.

Every night is followed by a morning. That’s how it works. And Saturday morning was a doozy. The sun was well up before doG surfaced and even then, he wandered round the house in something of a daze. Mrs. doG was less than sympathetic.

“Don’t think you’re going to be sitting around watching television.” She told him. “You haven’t invented it yet.”

So with a sigh, doG took himself off to the lab and attempted to work. But it was no use. By the time 5 O’Clock rolled around all he’d managed to produce were slugs, worms and snakes. Not exactly big league stuff. He tried to liven things up by making some of the snakes venomous, but his heart wasn’t in it.

“Time to give it up” he thought, and wrapped up the project. "No more creations for me."

But when Sunday dawned, bright and sunny, with the promise of a whole day before starting work again on Monday, doG got himself to thinking.

And doG invented football.

And doG saw that it was good.