FFfPP — Who’s a Good Boy?

57BDF863-4DB4-4015-8BB5-A93840AA0647“Who’s a good boy?” Adam called out to Bandit. “You’re a good boy. Oh yes you are.”

“If he’s such a good boy,” Sally said, “Why isn’t he listening to you? He’s just trotting away, not bringing the ball back.”

“He’ll bring it back to me when he’s ready,” Adam said to Sally. And then turning to Bandit, he said, “Yes you will, because you’re a good boy.”

“You seriously need to take that dog to obedience school,” Sally said.

“He is obedient,” Adam insisted, “But on his own terms, that’s all.”

“So who’s the master and who’s the pet in this dynamic?” Sally asked, “because he does whatever he wants and not what you want him to.”

As Adam and Sally were watching Bandit play in the pond’s shallow water, two men came up behind them. “Your wallets and your phones,” one of them, brandishing a knife, said. Sally screamed and Adam called out, “Bandit!”

The large golden retriever bounded out of the water, barking loudly. The man with the knife dropped it, and the two horrified muggers ran off.

“Who’s a good boy?” Sally said, bending down to embrace Bandit when he came running back to them. “You’re a good boy. Oh yes you are.”

(207 words)

Written for Roger Shipp’s Flash Fiction for the Purposeful Practitioner. Photo credit: MorgueFileJune2018 1418535473h5g6w. Sorry I went over the 200 word limit by seven words.

He Almost Bit My Head Off

A2610A27-4F4A-4BF3-8582-4298793211DF“Can I ask you a question?” my daughter asked.

First of all,” I said, “it’s may I ask you a question. And secondly, of course you may.

“Why do you get so angry whenever you hear the dog next door bark?” she asked. “Why do you let his barking torment you?”

“It’s not just the incessant barking,” I answered. “That dog is vicious. It has already attacked and bitten other dogs in the neighborhood and, while I’m not one to create controversy, I’m seriously tempted to call animal control and authorize them to come out and haul that monster dog away.”

“Before you do that,” my daughter suggested, “you should try talking to him.”

“I did try, but he almost bit my head off,” I said.

“Dad,” my daughter said, shaking her head, “I’m talking about talking to your neighbor, the dog’s owner, not to the dog.”

Written for these prompts: Fandango’s One-Word Challenge (question), Ragtag Daily Prompt (bark), Your Daily Word Prompt (authorize), Word of the Day Challenge (torment), Scotts Daily Prompt (first), and Daily Addictions (controversy).

FFfAW — Eye of the Beholder

ACE3BEFF-DD6C-46B0-958A-0C1EE5A4526E“I love it!” Jen said. “A puppy peeking out of a frosted doughnut hole with chocolate jimmies on it. And with chocolate fudge cookie cap with blueberries on top. It’s adorable.”

“Are you kidding me?” Adam said. “That is the stupidest figurine I’ve ever seen. Look at it. It’s shit.”

“It’s crazy cute is what it is,” said Jen.

“I’m sorry, but I couldn’t help overhearing. I’m Hanz Grubner, the curator, and this piece you’re admiring comes from the world famous House of Leventhal,” Grubner explained. “This particular figurine was crafted by Herr Leventhal during his canine years and this is his most whimsical work.”

“See?” Jen said to Adam. “It’s whimsical.”

Grubner turned to Jen and said, “Young lady, you have exquisite taste. This figurine is valued at $2,500.” Then he turned to Adam and said, “And you, young man, have none.”

“$2,500 for a porcelain dog popping out of a doughnut?” Adam said. “As I said, it’s shit. I’m leaving. Are you coming?” he asked Jen.

She just glared at him as they departed.

(175 words)

Written for this week’s Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers from Priceless Joy. Photo credit: Yinglan.

Dog Days of August

Today’s Ragtag Daily Prompt is “dog.” Given the events of this past week between Donald Trump and his former White House staffer, Omarosa Manigault Newman, the only African-American to have served in a senior role, I thought this prompt was well timed.

To set the stage, Omarosa was fired from her White House position by chief-of-staff John Kelly in February. Omarosa, an “Apprentice” contestant several times over, published a “tell-all” book this week. It’s titled Unhinged, and is all about her time in the Trump White House. She’s also released some audio tapes she surreptitiously recorded and says she has many more.

Aparently Trump apparently went ballistic and, of course, he started rage tweeting. In one of them, he called Omarosa a dog.img_2202Calling Omarosa a dog did not sit well with a lot of people. But, of course, his loyal, puppy dog-like press secretary, Sarah Huckabee Sanders, defended him.img_2195

#FOWC — Mellow Out

img_1729I hate the Fourth of July. No, it’s not because I’m not patriotic. And it’s not because I dislike fireworks. I love fireworks. It’s because fireworks scare the shit out of our dog.

At the sound of the first hint of fireworks going off somewhere, the first pop, no matter how faint, she starts shaking like a leaf. I swear, I think she’s going to have a heart attack or something.

It’s gotten to the point where my wife and I can’t go out at night on the Fourth of July to enjoy the fireworks without worrying that our poor, scared dog with die of fright if left alone.

We usually try to settle her down by taking her into an interior bathroom — one with no windows — closing the door, and turning up the volume on my phone’s iTunes app. But she somehow still hears (or senses?) the fireworks.

This year we decided to call our vet to see if he, in order to help us cope with tonight’s fireworks, would prescribe a sedative for us. Ha! No, just kidding — for our dog. He was kind enough to sell us a mild sedative that he said to give her about an hour before the fireworks are scheduled to start.

So at around 8 pm, we are going to give our dog the sedative, take her on her last walk of the day, and hope that by the time we return from the walk, she’ll be all mellowed-out and ready for a nice, restful sleep.

And, oh yes, my wife and I will probably eat a marijuana-infused gummy so that, by the time we get back from the walk, we, too, will be all mellowed-out. I’m looking forward to a relaxing Independence Day night.

Of course, our cat is fine with fireworks. Nothing fazes our cat. He couldn’t care less about fireworks as long as he’s getting fed.

Written for today’s FOWC with Fandango One-Word Challenge, “fireworks.” And for the Word of the Day Challenge, “independence.”