Writing Prompt: Day 59

59.jpgDay 59 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Write about a character finding a stray dog.

Erin: The day I found Skip changed the course of my life forever. He became such an integral part of my life that nothing was ever the same. When I went to local ball games he initiated meeting new people. He introduced me to many of my friends. They came for Skip, but they soon fell for me too.

When I was nervous about moving out on my own, he cuddled up with me and helped me fall asleep. Then when my mother was no longer there to wake me and I just turned my alarm off he filled her role of sitting on me until I woke.

Not to mention the fact that from day one he changed the course or my life. Or extended the course of my life. Without Skip I would have died on the side of the road and the neighbor a few blocks down wouldn’t have called an ambulance until it was too late. I didn’t just save a stray dog, a stray dog saved me too, and saved me first.

Shannon: Hey little buddy, it’s ok,” I tried to bribe a stray dog who was hiding under my porch by holding out a piece of sandwich meat. He kept panting and looking around, like he thought he was invisible, but then his nose caught wind of the smell. He started to slowly crawling forward, but he was very hesitant, clearly struggling internally, making it look like this was the most difficult decision of his life.

“There you go,” he finally got close enough to lick it from my hand. I pet the back of his neck. He was definitely a mutt with his course gray fur and no disguisable traits. No collar either. The touch didn’t bug him and when I ran out of food he didn’t walk away. He just started licking my face, weakly, but thankfully.

“Aww,” I smiled, and eventually had to break away from the dog kisses. “You want to come inside,” I questioned, at the same time waking up to the fact that I was speaking to an animal. It was better than the silent, confused look he was giving me.

I held the door open a little while and he followed me inside. I didn’t own pets, so I had no dog food to give him. I started tearing up some bread and he followed me over to the couch. I patted the cushion, but he wouldn’t jump up. He just rested his head on the seat, with adorable begging eyes.

When I was about to go to bed I pilled a few blankets and pillows together for him on the floor, but he didn’t seem to understand. Instead he just kept following me, and I didn’t encourage it but he hopped onto the bed without hesitation. “So couch is bad, but bed is okay. I hope I eventually get to meet your owner,” I rubbed his head.

Write about your character’s best friend, man or woman.

2 thoughts on “Writing Prompt: Day 59

  1. Rain pattered faintly on the energetic force field I was creating as Savy sketched something I didn’t have time to notice; for all I knew, Savean was the worst artist in the world, since she never let anyone see her work. Today a dense fog had descended on Briar Park, I expected because I wanted to practice some space-needing magick, and we had made a working date of it. Lately that had been all we could get away with. Meeting up for a quick coffee break before I was back to studying magicks no one could teach and Savy was back to her job.
    As I was attempting to hold my concentration I felt the enchantment failing, the edges fading away and fissions forming. Drops fell from the top and I took a deep breath before stepping back and letting it break. There was something ominously lovely in the way the field shattered from the top, cascading like a waterfall as raindrops glistened all around.
    From behind came an annoyed grunt before Savean called, “You coulda given me some warning. I spent a lot of time on this one,” she smirked, letting her pointed teeth gleam at me. Stepping toward her, I twisted to peek at the drawing she’d been working on but Savy, who might have been my girlfriend had we ever actually discussed it, was too sneaky. She flipped the cover over the page before I could see anything other than lines smudging together.
    Chuckling, I sat down on the bench beside her, watching the rain fall around us and feeling completely at peace. I suppose we’d never discussed our relationship because I had a fate; one that would make any connection doomed from the start. But neither of us wanted to talk about it, so we just let our feelings for each other hang in the air between us and remain unspoken.
    I was just sitting up, water dripping from my damp hair, when something shaggy ran past my leg and darted away. Looking to Savean, she had the same quizzical expression I did. Between us was some soundless dialogue and we were bolting across the soaking field before her sketchpad landed on the bench. As we sprinted, water kicking up about our heels, I peered around the murky park for the creature I’d seen before. Up ahead the treeline was dawning like an army of soldiers coming up a hill and I squinted to watch for movement in the forest.
    After a few minutes of running around in the pouring rain I turned to Savy in defeat, “I guess whatever it was doesn’t want to be found.” Gasping and leaning on my knees, I continued to scan the trees for our mystery beast as I struggled to catch my breath.
    Savean was leaning, like a sky blue goddess, against a tree, grinning from ear to ear. Fog was sticking to her pale peasant shirt and flowing about her on the breeze. “Lil, there is goes!” she shouted, dashing into the dark underbrush of the forest like a deer and was gone. Taking a last, nearly-panicked breath, I hopped over the bushes that snatched at my pant legs viciously. In the darkness I could hear leaves crushing and low panting, but couldn’t make anything out so I threw out a few citrine chips and they burst like tiny stars.
    A few feet from me was a great tree, vines wrapping tightly about the trunk, which made me shiver as I recalled past horrors. But I started back off in the direction of the commotion; the stars trailing around me, circling like planets around a sun. Minutes in, the trees began to thin, giving way to rust-coloured grasses and the hovering flowers of the Plumeaux meadows. I halted to examine an alabaster-spotted violet floating at eye-level, trembling in the light breeze, since I had already lost sight of Savy. Up ahead the meadow turned back into deep emerald forest and I left the flower to follow my instincts.
    This part of the forest, away from Briarwood, was lighter and there was an air of thick magick coating every branch and pebble. After hopping haphazardly over a few cleanly-felled trees I came upon a rushing stream that murmured away happily. Without thinking, I dropped to my knees and scooped at the clear liquid; expecting to drink it before a bark echoed at me. Spilling the shimmery liquid, I glanced around nervously for an intruder but could see none. When I turned back to the water something shot out of a nearby bush, knocking me painfully on my back.
    Pawing insistently at my arm was a scraggly-looking dog with enormous, puppy eyes and a tail that obviously never stopped wagging. She whined in my face, blowing warm dog breath against my cool, damp skin, and sniffed at the air expectantly. After retrieving my fallen pack and checking on some of my ingredients, to the great dismay of the golden pooch who yowled and paced, I got to my feet and stepped across the stream. Weaving through my legs, the dog led me along a path that ran along the stream, ducking around old-growth trees.
    After what seemed like an hour of hiking through brush so thick I had to levitate around patches we came upon a crick in the creek where it passed right in front of the path. I continued along the path but the dog sat patiently at the edge of the small clearing whining softly at me. When I glanced around and saw nothing anxiety gripped my stomache; what if this mutt was just stupid and had led me along a winding path I would never return from? But looking into her golden eyes I could see a nearly-human intelligence staring back at me, begging for me to notice something obviously wrong.
    Though I was moderately worried I calmed myself and listened to the breeze singing through the trees; there was a voice somewhere in the tones. Listening more intently I could make out Savean’s terrified cries and searched the clearing for any sign of her. I turned to the dog, who paced before me and glared into the stream with her fur scrunched up on her back. When she let out a rumbling growl I stepped toward the water and heard Savy’s voice get louder the closer I got. Turning back I smiled at the furry beast, “Good girl.”
    She followed my hands as they spun a revealing spell in midair; lines of indigo and silver staining the air as I worked diligently. When I was finished the sigil vibrated with intense light and settled like dust on the forest floor. Before me was a shivering figure of pale blue light, drifting a few inches above the stream, waving enthusiastically at me and the dog. With zealous hand motions Savean attempted to explain what was going on, getting across something about her ties to the other naiads not associated with her pond.
    But she couldn’t figure out how to escape from the stream and I had no knowledge of their politics. Instead, out of sheer desperation, I turned back to the pooch who had alerted me to Savy’s whereabouts. Expecting her to just cock her head like dogs do when you expected them to help you, I was surprised to say the least by her reaction.
    There, drawn in the mud beside me, was a rudimentary heart shape. When I looked puzzled the dog looked between the ghostly apparition and me to get her point across. Savean appeared to understand the language and waved me closer with a pale hand, stretching forward. Our lips touched through whatever enchantment the naiads used and I suddenly had a warm-blooded woman in my arms. Breaking away from our first kiss I looked to the genius dog and gasped, “Goldie!?”


  2. Created to Write:
    August slows his run, checking behind him. The vendor is no longer after him. August finds an empty alleyway and sits just inside, behind a garbage dump. He takes the bundle out from under his jacket; a loaf of bread.
    “I’m sure this is from a Disney movie or something,” he mutters, before breaking it in half. He also has a cooked fish underneath, from which he takes a bite.
    There’s a soft whine that grabs his attention. He looks up. Two eyes stare at him from a dark corner. He reaches for the sword at his hip, but wait for the creature to move.
    The eyes flinch, then slink through the shadows. August figures that the creature means no harm, if it is so scared by him.
    “Come on,” August says, taking his hand off the sword, “I won’t hurt you.”
    The eyes watch him a moment, then a snout penetrates the light. The German Shepard walks over to him slowly, her nose twitching as she smells the fish.
    August pulls off a piece and tosses it to her. She devours it, as her ribs would imply she would.
    August takes a bite of the bread, watching the dog. When she’s done, she looks at him again, begging.
    August takes another piece and throws it, this time a little closer to himself. The dog lunges at it, eating without swallowing.
    A second time, she looks at him. The piece August throws is within his arms reach. The dog is more hesitant this time, but accepts the food. August gently takes a hand and pats her matted fur. The dog tenses, then relaxes as her ear is scratched. She collapses next to him. August moves his hand to her neck, being gentle. He finds a collar.
    “Not a stray, huh?” he asks. The dog look at him. He tries something, “Sit.”
    The dog pulls her front up to sit. August finds what he was looking for, a tag. What strikes him is that it is a literal dog tag, from the military.
    He reads one side, “Mocha, United States Military K-9 unit.”
    The dog perks up, her tail thumping on the ground.
    August smiles, “So, Mocha?”
    Mocha’s tail thumps faster. It must have been a long time since she heard her name.
    August looks at the second tag, “Lieutenant Brandon Smith, trainer.” There was more on his identity, but August has an idea what happened.
    Mocha’s trainer must be dead.
    “Looks like we’re both stuck here,” August says. Mocha lays back down, curling towards him a little. “Don’t worry, I won’t leave you, Mocha. Besides… you remind me of someone. She loves dogs, she’d probably love you.” August leans back, his eyes heavy, “If only I could remember who she is.”


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