Kreative Kue 294

Kreative Kue 293 asked for submissions based on this photograph:

TinkerbellJohn W Howell is a multiple nominated and award-winning author who blogs at Fiction Favorites. Details of John’s books can be found on his Amazon author page

Tinkerbell by John W. Howell © 2021

“Okay, Ms. Watson. We need a really nice photo to go on the back of your book.”

“I don’t understand why.”

“Your readers will want to know what you look like. That’s why.”

“I’ve published ten books without a photo. Why now?”

“The publisher has decided.”

“Oh yeah, just like the title, time of publication, and everything else.”

“I have a job to do. I don’t make the rules.”

“Oh, I know that. Excuse the rant. I just feel like I have no control.”

“I can imagine. I know if someone kept telling me what pictures to take, I would feel the same way.”

“You are being told to take a picture of me.”

“I meant my own pictures. My client’s pictures are paid for by them, so they have a say so.”

“Does that make it right? How much are you being paid for this one.”

“Not much. $200.00.”

“Wow. That seems like a little amount.”

“Well, it’s the going rate for a sitting.”

“What if I doubled that?”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ll pay you $400 not to take the photo.”

“I have to send something to the client. They paid in advance.”

“I have an idea. You have any costumes here?”

“Only a dog costume.”

“I’ll put that on. You take my picture and send it along with $200 and make up an excuse. I’ll give you $400 to do that.”

“You have a deal. Here’s the costume.”

“It’s hot for sure.”

“Now smile, Tinkerbell. That’s great.”

“Thank you so much. I feel free.”

“You know they’ll just hire another to take the photo.”

“Yeah, but thinking of the look on the faces over there is well worth it.”

My effort was:

Straight-talking pup

You think you’re clever, don’t you? You think that having opposable thumbs and a complex language makes you better than me, don’t you?

Well, let me tell you something, Mister. I am not just a dog; not some nondescript, common-or-garden, everyday canine. Oh, no. Not this one. This one is a chihuahua. Were I physically, emotionally and financially capable of it, I’d be prepared to lay good good money that you can’t even spell that.

We chihuahuas have a long, distinguished history. We have been companions to royalty and people with enormous levels of net worth since there have been people like that. Others have been jealous of people just for having us.

We chihuahuas still contain elements from the genome of the earliest domestic dogs to come to North America nearly fifteen thousand years ago (okay, only about four percent, but you get my drift). That is not to be trifled with and neither are we.

We are chihuahuas and chihuahuas rock.

My name is Tinkerbell; and let me tell you one thing before you accuse anyone of plagiarism. I was given this name before the more famous one was as much as a fertilised ovum in its mother’s womb. And I am a male dog!

It takes a powerful male to carry off an obviously female moniker. You want examples? What about  Marion Morrison? You know him better, perhaps, as John Wayne. And the wrestler Big Daddy; real name Shirley Crabtree. Would you regard either of them as less than other males? Less than manly? No, you wouldn’t. There is a long and proud history that is shared by males given female names.

So, you can see that I am special. It wouldn’t be too much of an exaggeration for me to call myself unique. Okay, it is an exaggeration in that it isn’t exactly true – but it’s not too much of one. Are we agreed on that? Good. Now let me tell you something else, Mister.

I will not be put into a pocket or bag and be carried around like a toy. I will not be dressed in silly garments or decorated with bows and tassels. I will not be dyed in different colours to match anyone’s outfit. I am not a fashion accessory. I am a living creature with a long and proud, almost regal history.

I am a chihuahua and chihuahuas rule, big time!

And another thing, and I don’t care how much it hurts; it has to be said.

I will not eat that cheap supermarket dog food you’ve just put down for me.


On to this week’s challenge: Using this photo as inspiration, write a short story, flash fiction, scene, poem; anything, really; even just a caption for the photograph. Either put it (or a link to it) in a comment or email it to me at before 6pm next Sunday (if you aren’t sure what the time is where I live, this link will tell you). If you post it on your own blog or site, a link to this page would be appreciated, but please do also mention it in a comment here.

Go on. You know you want to. Let your creativity and imagination soar. I shall display the entries next Monday.

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