“In your food, Wilbur. Your face is always in your food.”
Hey, give me a break, I think. I’m a dawg.
She talks about me all the time. On the phone. To the big man, Billy.
“That dog,” she says. “He costs me a fortune. I spend more money on his food, than for the rest of this family.”
I eat too much, I’m a pig. I don’t eat enough, I’m ill. I push food around in my bowl. Apparently, I’m fussy.
“It’s like having another kid in the house,” she says. “I’m always worrying.”
Well, don’t worry, I think to myself. You need to enjoy life more, you know. Like dawgs do.
It’s that time of year when all the talk in the house is about Halloween.
“It’s coming soon,” say the kids. “MUM, will you make me a costume?”
They’re as excited as puppies and mum is as tired as an old bitch whose tits are stretched to the max.
You want to comment on my eating habits, I think. Well, I’ve the best idea for a costume. Ironical, I think you’d call it.
I’m gonna join in. I’m part of the family, and this family does Halloween.
So, I spend many days nutting out the best way to nudge bread off the breakfast table without being yelled at. I need to wait for the perfect distraction.
In a comedy of errors that could only be written, it happened. Baby threw up all over Mum. Small boy banged the spoon in his bowl, sending breakfast everywhere. Big girl laughed and laughed until small boy threw his spoon at her. Too busy to notice.
I stood on my hind legs and with my wet, black nose, pushed. And a lovely, thick piece of bread fell at my feet.
Carefully (but quickly) I grabbed it with my teeth and hustled to my basket.
It was tricky. I’ve a clumsy mouth. But gently I nibbled in the right places, until I was satisfied. Then voila, I was ready for Halloween fun.
The household had calmed, baby was sleeping, small boy was building in the corner, big girl was watching cartoons. Mum stood nearby, making her second coffee of the morning. She glanced my way.
“Wilbur,” she said, she was smiling. “Your face is always in your food!” [6 minutes, 386 words]
- Set up a timer or sit near a clock so you can keep track of the six minutes you will be writing.
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- Get ready and write for 6 minutes, that is it! Can you write a complete story? Can you think of a new Sonnet? Can you write 400 words? 400? 500? There are no restrictions on what kind of writing you do, but you should try to be actively writing for six minutes.
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LOL I love a story from a dawg’s POV 😄 That would never happen with a piece of bread/toast if my Bailey 🐶 knocked it off the table. It would be “down the hatch” in a flash 😂
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This is great Trish.
Reblogged this on Stine Writing and commented:
Thanks Trish for the contribution!
That is a great story! Haha, I love that he calls the kids big boy, small boy,…Thanks for participating! I had a great laugh!
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