Posts Tagged ‘Dog’
Jan
Positive
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
It’s New Year’s Eve and Chad is in quarantine. His Covid-19 test came back negative the first time and he’s waiting on the next one. He doesn’t feel sick and he’s confident the test will come back negative.
With champagne in hand and the ball getting ready to drop, his dog Buddy, cuddles by the warmth of the fireplace like any other night, unaware of a new year ahead.
He watches the lonely host at Times Square shivering from the cold as he counts down. The ball drops and Chad chugs his champagne.
The next afternoon Chad’s test is positive.
From Guest Contributor Lisa Scuderi-Burkimsher
Aug
Flash Bang Boom
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
With the encouragement of family and friends, I adopted a retired bomb-sniffing dog. I called him “Flash” – after the flashing lights of a migraine, I would joke to anyone who asked. One day he discovered under the couch a severed doll’s head I didn’t even know I had. Next the piano stopped producing sounds when I sat down to play it. Then the tree outside my window appeared suspended like an astronaut in space. Now I often catch the dog lying on the couch studying me with cold, squinty eyes as if calculating exactly how much a person can bear.
From Guest Contributor Howie Good
Howie is the author of THE DEATH ROW SHUFFLE, a poetry collection forthcoming from Finishing Line Press.
Jun
The Natural In Nature
by thegooddoctor in Uncategorized
NATURE SUBMISSION:
“It’s all natural,” Kathy tells Gordon, her teenaged son. “We don’t use pesticides.”
She tears lettuce into bite-size pieces. Radishes lie on the chopping board next in line for the salad.
“But chemicals can fall from rain,” replies Gordon. He fills a glass with filtered water.
Bruno, seen through a window, is crouching between rows of spinach and lettuce in the garden.
Gordon cringes. “So much for natural. Think of all the junk that dog picks up along the way in his daily romps.”
“That’s nature,” says Kathy. “Can’t help what one is meant to do.”
“Certified organic?”
From Guest Contributor Krystyna Fedosejevs
Krystyna is a writer of poetry, fiction, and creative nonfiction. She resides in Edmonton, Canada with her husband, stuffed animals and many friends.
May
Unconditional Love
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
“That damn dog! How did she get out this time?” I asked.
He replied, “It’s my fault. I didn’t secure the back gate properly. Why does she run away like this when we take such good care of her?”
“We can’t take it personally. It is just doggy instinct to hunt. I am just sorry you need to chase her when she does this. Try looking down by the pond.”
Just as he grabbed a leash, the culprit appeared: tail wagging, dirty nose, and a dead gopher in her mouth.
“There you are! Come here. Who is our best girl?”
From Guest Contributor Janice Siderius
Mar
Barking At Shadows
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
One minute I’m falling exhausted into bed. The next I’m getting beaten by goombahs wielding metal bats. “I’m going to die,” I think. “I’m going to lose everything.” My body trembles like it’s not under my jurisdiction anymore. I don’t want to make this sound worse than it is, but there isn’t a lot else happening, just assorted crises, each at a different point of unfolding. It’s an intricate universe. When day returns with a button or two missing, I’m spooning hot cereal into a small white dog that has been exhibiting signs of incipient dementia. Heartache is everyone’s neighbor.
From Guest Contributor Howie Good
Howie is the author most recently of Stick Figure Opera: 99 100-word Prose Poems from Cajun Mutt Press. He co-edits the online journals Unbroken and UnLost.
Feb
Happy Valentine’s Day
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
It had been six months since Emma’s dog Max passed away. She still felt his head on her lap, breathing softly as she pet his head. She missed their walks together and his playful barks when she’d throw him the ball. He’d catch it every time, the ball hanging from his mouth.
The picture on the end table had been a favorite. Max in her arms, licking her fingers, tail wagging, a smile on Emma’s face cuddling her friend.
The doorbell rang, distracting Emma.
“Surprise,” her boyfriend said and placed the puppy in her arms.
Emma’s valentine wish came true.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher
Oct
Fall
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
The blanket of brown leaves, crisp underfoot before the overnight rains, were now a moist, organic mess. The wind was forcing entire sheaves of debris into clammy piles against curbs and hedges.
The water-logged corpse of one of the neighborhood’s homeless lay in the street half-covered as well. A growling dog poked at an exposed leg, disturbed by a scent only it could perceive.
Mrs. Roberts waited at the corner for the paramedics. She didn’t like the dog bothering the body, but she was unwilling to get any closer. She instead dragged from her cigarette and stared at her phone.
Oct
Boss
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
The dog was known as Boss by the Belfast housing estate kids. They heard harsh scratching as he desperately tried to crawl away from his tormentor, his muzzle leaving a dark trail of blood from where the first round had hit him in the face. His life trickled away from him through the short grey hairs on his jaw; an occasional desperate snarl ripping apart the cold morning air before he began whimpering again like a child.
Lining up the rifle sight, his tormentor watched the heaving chest, pressed the trigger and the pavement was awash with blood and fur.
From Guest Contributor Bernie Hanvey
Jun
First Mate
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
The scream of the seagull broke the silence on the dock. His old dog looked at him and gave a soft whine. It was her fourteenth season and he wondered if it would be her last. Her coat had lightened over the years and little wasn’t gray on her muzzle. He rubbed her head as they walked to his boat.
She struggled to climb over the starboard side of the boat, so he lifted her in. She made it by herself every time last year.
The traditional start of main lobstering season was underway. It might be her last season.
From Guest Contributor NT Franklin
Mar
On This, That, And The Other
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Gina peeled each layer of the onion back like it was a metaphor for her own life. That’s why she was disappointed to reach the center and find nothing was there.
This was the danger with metaphors. You may lose control of them so that they take on a life of their own, like a dog that bites the hand that feeds it, or a gift looking a horse in the mouth, and then nothing makes sense anymore.
Or maybe it’s not metaphors she’s thinking of, but clichés. There is, after all, nothing original about an onion with no meaning.