Brad went on a lot of walks, one in the morning, one at lunch, and another after dinner. Unlike most people, who kept a steady pace when they walked, slowing occasionally to admire a particularly pretty flower, or to peek on their neighbors when some activity in a lighted window drew their attention, Brad would come to a complete stop and fidget in place without looking at anything in particular, then walk another half block and fidget some more. Whenever Brad encountered his neighbors next door out walking their two golden retrievers, he’d cross the street and get as much distance on the dogs as he could. His neighbors reassured him that their dogs were friendly, but Brad still kept his distance. They thought it sad that a middle-aged man was afraid of dogs when they loved theirs so much. Continue reading “Tiny”
Tag: dog fiction 2
The Rabbit Hole
Echo was sitting in her studio apartment, polishing her brand new red Doc Martens in preparation for a night out with her friends, when she saw a dark shadowy form of an animal crossing the room on the other side of her coffee table. It looked like a black dog, except that it lacked detail and definition. If her hair weren’t already glued into a Mohawk with half a can of super-hold hair spray, it would have been standing on end from the tingling sensation she felt working its way up her neck.
The shadowy form stopped and seemed to turn and stare at her, then shake its head like dogs do. Echo could actually see the moving shadow of dog ears flapping about the side of its head, but it was all done silently. Was it a ghost? She thought ghosts were supposed to be white puffs of smoke, and she’d heard of shadow people on late-night paranormal radio, but not shadow dogs. On the same show she’d heard about the multiverse theory of the universe. which is that of a bubble bath where each bubble is a universe and there are an uncountable number of universes, some so different from our own that they might have their own laws of physics, others so similar that all the planets might be identical and the sole difference is an alternate history on the third planet from our sun. Sometimes bubbles overlap and air and soap pass from one bubble to the next, and so it is with the multiverse. Either way it was freaking her out staring at her like that, so she took the freshly polished boot in her hand and tossed it at it, hitting it square on. But instead of the boot passing through it, making it disappear like she thought it would, it caught the boot in its mouth, turned and skedaddled. Continue reading “The Rabbit Hole”
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Rocky
The little dog was very happy now that he’d relieved himself. He was in the middle of marking his spot at the park by scratching the grass with his back legs, when he saw what his two-legger was up to and let out a peal of barks in protest. With his hand encased in a plastic grocery bag, the old man leaned over and picked up the dog’s freshly excreted poop which was no bigger than the green goose droppings surrounding it. Continue reading “Rocky”
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Snake Oil
It’s a good thing I don’t have a job or else I’d look like the Thompson cat after being chased through the brambles behind old lady Tucker’s house. You two-leggers don’t appreciate the work that goes into looking good when your entire body is covered with fur. Sure, you all have a little tuft on top of your head, but that’s nothing compared to me, a full-figured, fluffy Samoyed with my arctic white fur shining as if glistening with morning dew. And I’m beginning to wonder if that tuft of yours might be a wig, since more and more of you are going without, mostly men, and when I smell the women’s hair it smells very similar to what my two-legger uses to clean up my wee-wee. I don’t know what you use to clean a wig but you might use that. You certainly wouldn’t use wee-wee cleaner on your own hair, or maybe you all would. The odd stuff you do never ceases to amaze me. Continue reading “Snake Oil”
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Strays
It was a good day to fleece treats off the customers coming out of the 7-11. The hot weather brought them in for beer and chips, and I sat outside pretending to be someone’s pet dog by sitting calmly and looking like I was waiting for my master to return from inside the store with a six-pack for him and a bone for me. Pet dogs were safe to feed. Moms didn’t have to worry about their kids trying to talk them into bringing home the stray. Don’t feed the stray, they’d say, he’ll follow us home. I’d heard that one a lot. So I put on my act of belonging to someone and it worked for me. Continue reading “Strays”
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How to Make a Sandwich
That’s it, put some mayonnaise on it. No, don’t put the mayo away, don’t be cheap, put it on with a spoon. Stop worrying about your arteries. Stress will kill you long before the mayo. What? The jar’s almost empty? Well then, use it up. Oh yeah, there you go. No, don’t put it in the sink, you idiot. Put it on the floor and I’ll get it ready for the recycle bin. I know lettuce is good for you but let’s not over-do it. Okay, I need roughage. You could play eighteen rounds with that last poop. Spray ’em white and sell ’em on eBay. Ooo pickles, I like pickles. I wonder if you could pickle a cat. Mmm, that sounds good. Let’s pickle Buttons and put him on a bun. Might have to get some more mayo though. Tomato slices work, put a few more slices on. Whoops, you dropped one. Here, I’ll get it for you. Slurp. Gosh, I don’t see it. Where’d it go? That damn cat must’ve kiped it. He’s fast for a fat bastard. He might even be enough for two sandwiches. Continue reading “How to Make a Sandwich”
Gnawing the Bone 