Hello everyone! As part of Short Story Saturday, I have posted another short story, this one entitled It’s a Doggie Dog World. I apologize for the short length. Please enjoy.
The muffle flashed. The bullet went through her left shoulder narrowly missing bone. She fell to the floor in pain. She reached for the handle of the oven as she slipped in her own blood and struggled to her feet. The woman took a look at the face of her would-be assassin. Her heart sank.
“Why did you do this, Fido?” she asked.
“I heard you were stiffing me on bones,” her dog answered.
“How did you know?”
“The cat told me.”
“I knew I shouldn’t have trusted him.”
Fido slowly approached. She knew death was imminent. Many thoughts rattled in her head but at the forefront was the most prevalent mystery of how a dog was able to hold a gun in his hand without a single opposable digit.
The woman fumbled around the countertop and shuffled frantically shuffled through papers in a desperate search for a weapon. A smile crept onto her face when she found what she was searching for.
“I didn’t want to have to do this, but I’m afraid you’ve left me little choice.” The woman raised a magazine hidden underneath some advertisements and a couple of bills over her head. She rolled it into a tube.
“Bad dog!” The woman struck the dog’s nose with the publication which compelled the dog to drop the gun on the floor, which, lucky for them didn’t fire despite the impact.
“What? No, I’m not a bad dog!”
“No shooting your master! Bad dog!” She struck the dog several times on his rear and he let out an anguished howl several times as a response. The woman knelt next to the dog’s nose and rubbed it into her wounded shoulder. “Look at what you did!” she reprimanded. “That’s what happens when you play with guns. Bad dog!” She struck the dog several times again with the magazine which elicited another series of anguished cries.
“Are you going to behave from now on?” the woman asked. The dog nodded silently. “Are you going to play with guns?” The dog shook his head “no.” “Let’s shake on it. Shake Fido.” The dog raised his paw. The woman grabbed it and shook it up and down.
“All right, good dog. You’re forgiven.” Fido laid on his back and allowed the woman to rub his belly. He started panting, barking, and wagging his tail with joy.
“Aw, look at you. I think you deserve a treat. Then I’d better bandage up this arm before I pass out due to blood loss.” She reached into the kitchen cabinet and pulled out a box of snacks.
“Sit,” she instructed the dog. Fido obediently complied. “Good dog.” The woman threw down three treats. After petting the on his head, she went upstairs to the master bedroom and the medicine cabinet so that she could finally dress her bleeding shoulder.
“Wait a second,” Fido said to himself after helping himself to the treats, “Aren’t I supposed to get four treats?”
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Very good, James. Good punchline. Sounds suspiciously like a certain dog…
The events, characters, and firms depicted in this story are fictitious. Any similarity to actual dogs, living or dead, or to actual firms, is purely coincidental. … Any resemblance to real dogs, living or dead, is purely coincidental