DOGGIE DILEMMA

PROFILE: DeeDee. Golden Sheltie. AKA: Princess Deedra, Flower Pot, Butterscotch Cutie, Buttercup, and the occasional poop head. Loves to lay out in the yard. Kisses have been known to taste like poop and candy. Guilty of: Ripping up tissue, eating receipts, and pooping on the carpet right in front of Pet-human and Man-servant for failure to decipher canine dialect. Averted punishment by accurate usage of puppy-dog-eye technique. Alpha dog, but I won't hike my leg.

PROFILE: Stryker. By-black Sheltie. AKA: Nasty little crotch sniffer, indecent leg licker, little poop head, Spud, Hairy little turd butt, and others. Loves to be cuddled at all times. Has been known to try and tongue-bathe Pet-human. Guilty of: Stealing chicken bones out of the garbage. Licking the wooden floor. Emitting loud hacking noises that have caused Pet-human to shoot out of bed to preserves what's left of the carpet. Averted punishment by accurate usage of rub-belly technique. Beta dog, and proud of it.

DOGGIE DILEMMA: Enter Dogs.

DEEDRA: Attention Bloggers, our pet-human is SOL.

STRYKER: You mean MIA.

DEEDRA: I mean SOL. You used your body to trip her. She nearly fell down the stairs.

STRYKER: Don't say that out loud! Besides, it was the only way I could keep her away from the computer.

DEEDRA: Quiet. I have to tell them about the "C" word.

STRYKER: You mean the cat?

DEEDRA: We don't have a cat.

STRYKER: Well we should. The scent of feline anus is a delicacy.

DEEDRA: Cat-ass-sniffer. No wonder we found you at the pound.

STRYKER: You eat poop. Ow!

DEEDRA: Cholesterol. The word is cholesterol.

STRYKER: I still don't know what it is.

DEEDRA: Me neither, but apparently it happens when you consume too much pizza and wine. Pet-human had a test done because she's obsessed with being healthy. And hers is up by four points.

STRYKER: I don't know what the deal is. The man-servant's is much higher and he doesn't complain.

DEEDRA: Of course not, he's male. Anyway, pet-human needs to eat healthier.

STRYKER: But she gives us the crust...

DEEDRA: And we have forced her to move her regular Friday post to Thursdays so she can resume her rigorous exercise regiment...with the exception of Insecure Writer's day on October 5th. There, I've said it all. Now for a few words from out sponsor. Pet-human wrote this for the campaign challenge. She didn't enter the contest but wrote it just for fun. And they made her use some weird words. (imago, miasma, lacuna, oscitate, synchronicity, and mirror.) 200 WORDS.  Check it out.

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FURRY IMAGO

　

Knee deep in swamp water, Troy boded his time. The miasma cleared forming a mirror in the chilling stream. He didn’t dare look down and face the reflection of his furry imago. Saliva spilled from the corner of his mouth. The swing moved, hypnotizing him with the sight of the lithe girl kicking up her toes. He licked his lips. An unnatural whine oozed from his throat. He swallowed it. It was happening again. He was losing control of his human side. As leader of the pack he was expected to show restraint when it came to eating humans, but the hunger lured him like the harvest moon. All sense of guilt or propriety laid buried deep within a minuscule lacuna in his brain.

The girl leaped off the swing, making him oscitate. He darted toward her, landing at her feet—sparing a moment of adoration before trapping her in his embrace. Teeth sunk into flesh, muffling a scream. The fierce synchronicity became a type of music. Once again he gorged on human elixir, denying his upbringing, favoring the wolf. No matter, the others would never find out. He shook the dew from his fur and returned to his pack.

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DEEDRA: Hope you liked it.  She wrote if with us in mind.

STRYKER: Tell them the trivia.

DEEDRA: Fun facts.  It has been scientifically proven that all dogs evolved from wolves.  Selective breeding provided the physical variety.

STRYKER: Uh-oh, here she comes!

DEEDRA: Run!

Exit dogs, tails curled behind them in a wagging frenzy as they proceed to run the fence line.

Have a great week everyone! ...^-^... See you Thursday.  Love your poochies.