December 2nd is National Mutt Day, so our flash fiction contest is going to the dogs. From the National Day Calendar website, it states that National Mutt Day is celebrated each year on July 31st and Dec. 2nd, and 'encourages us to embrace, save and celebrate mixed breed dogs'.
So sit, stay, and write some flash fiction about man (and woman's) best friend!
Rules for the contest can be found here.
Winner will be announced Sunday around noon.
The intercom buzzed. “The couple with the Rottweiler is here to pick him up.”
ReplyDeleteI pushed the button to reply. “Be right out.”
“I’ll help you,” Jeff offered. “Rascal has a ton of energy.”
The dog thrashed around like crazy as we tried to leash him up. His tail kept whipping me in the back of the leg. Jeff wrapped the leash around his hand. I went ahead of him to push open the kennel door. Something on my shoes must have smelled fascinating; instead of going through the door, Rascal shoved his head into my ankles. I fell against the wall, sliding to the floor before I caught myself.
Jeff yanked hard on Rascal’s leash, trying to get the dog out of the way so I could get up. “Jeez, Lis, did you step in squirrel poo?”
“Shut up.” I shoved at Rascal’s head. “Go away, boy.” I moved my feet away from the puddle of drool he made in his attempt to get at my shoes. Rascal’s saliva puddle was bigger than I expected, and my feet slipped out from under me when I stepped in it. I crashed to the floor again.
Jeff couldn’t hold onto the leash, he was laughing so hard. I leaned my head against the wall in defeat.
“When you’re finished, maybe you could help me up or something?” I frowned at Jeff, who was doubled in half.
“I’m sorry. You should have seen the look on your face.” He chuckled one last time, then smoothed his face. “I’m done.” He offered his hand to me. I wasn’t expecting him to pull me up so hard—I stumbled and fell into him. He had to take a step back and grab my waist with his free hand to keep the two of us from going down.
My cheeks burned. “Sorry.” My eyes flicked up to Jeff’s, only inches away from mine. Centimeters. My breath caught as we stared at each other.
Jeff swallowed. “It’s okay. Are you good?”
“Yeah.”
He let go, and I stepped away. His eyebrows furrowed together. “I’ll, uh, get a better hold on the leash this time, promise.” He grabbed Rascal, who was sniffing a filing cabinet.
I took a deep breath, trying to clear the flutters from my stomach. By the time Jeff turned around, leash in hand, I was smiling as if nothing weird had happened.
Oh, a Rottie! Some friends of mine have one, she's very friendly, just a little too exuberant for me sometimes. =) Kind of like this one!
ReplyDelete