There are bones in my living room. Bleached and processed cross-sections of bovine femur lay on the carpet. At any given moment, the sound of teeth can be heard scraping across these bones, wearing down the edges, reducing them to shards. It’s a primitive sound, one that has echoed back through time for many thousands of years when prehistoric wolves gnawed on the remains of that day’s kill.
Descendents of those wolves lie at my feet, having killed nothing that day other than time and a bowl of kibble. They are my loyal, docile, silly, rambunctious, trusted dogs. But when I give them a bone, I watch them gleefully devolve.
And so it ends. With an ode to the many dogs I have owned. From the top of the picture then counter-clockwise we have Nikita, Ripley (both no longer with me), Mathilda, and Dakota.
This is the last day of BlogShorts, a short-story writing challenge. Ten days, ten short stories, 110 words. This year, we’re writing to the theme: The Dog Days of Summer. You can read all the sordid details here.
Be sure to read what dogs the other participants chose to write about:
Blogdramedy – think of me as the alpha dog
1pointperspective - circus dog (inside joke that’s not so inside if you go over and read his blog)
SteveBetz - in for a Penny, in for a pound (I AM good!)
Joe’s Musings - a bit of a scrappy scribbler
MC’s Whispers - speaks five languages (not including puppy-speak)
Shouts from the Abyss - he knows how to sit up and beg
H.E. Ellis - he likes pithy and, for some reason, Chevy Impalas
Lenore Diane - peanut butter & bananas sandwiches make her day