Tagged: dogs

Over ‘ere, son. On me ‘ead.

“So… what’s the boss doing today, Hobie?”

“You’ve asked the right Labrador, Flash. I know all about this”

“How?”

“I listened in while the boss was talking to his mate about it.”

“You mean the mistress?”

“That’s the only mate the boss has.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Did you wink at me then, Flash? I didn’t know dogs could wink. Anyway, let me tell you something about humans. According to the sacred texts, they mate for life and have a monogamous relationship.”

“And if they want to spread their genes further than just one mate?”

“Then the pair-bond would be broken, and that never goes well. But I know for sure the boss doesn’t do that.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Well, remember the human we used to live with?”

“The one that’s in a rescue centre now?”

“Yes, only it’s not a rescue centre, it’s a prison.”

“What’s the difference?”

“You don’t get rescued. Simple as.”

“What about him?”

“I could always tell when he had mated with another female.”

“How?”

“You, Flash, have extremely good eyesight; that’s your strength. I’m practically blind, but by golly, my nose makes up for it.”

“So you’re saying…”

“I’m saying that the boss only ever mates with the mistress.”

“Alright. So what did you hear about what he’s doing today?”

“You remember that young kestrel the boss brought home, the one he keeps in the aviary next to the redtail?”

“Yeah.”

“And you know he’s been training it up and exercising it to get it ready to go free?”

“I know all that.”

“Well, he reckons it’s nearly ready to go. Today’s lesson is teaching it to hover—”

“Like kestrels do…”

“Yeah – it’s how they hunt. But he told the mistress that he can’t let it go free until he knows that it can do that.”

“So how’s he plan to teach it to hover? He can hardly explain it with diagrams, can he?”

“The plan, he said, is to cast it into the field, the call it back with the whistle for a bit of food. Then, just as it’s ready to drop onto his fist to claim the reward, he’s gonna hide it. The kestrel’s supposed to hover and look for it, and as soon as it does, he’ll bring the food out again.”

“That sounds like a plan, but is he sure the bird’s smart enough to know that?”

“Let’s watch – well, you watch, I’ll listen. Out it goes, into the field … whistle … the bird comes back and… hide the food.”

“Erm, Hobie…”

“What?”

“Does the master know he’s got a kestrel on his head?”

“Has he?”

“Yes. As soon as he hid the food, the bird landed in his hair. You don’t suppose it’ll build a nest in there, do you?”

“I doubt it, but it tells us one thing. We didn’t need to wonder if the bird’s smart enough to work out what the master’s doing.”

“If I stand here and give him the look, d’you suppose the master’ll toss me a bit of the bird’s food?”

“Probably, Flash. He knows you’ll catch it, and he likes to end on a high.”


I wrote this in response to Kreative Kue 173, issued on this site earlier this week. Feel free to join in; just follow the link.

Kreative Kue 140

Kreative Kue 139 asked for submissions based on this photograph:

John W Howell, author of the John Cannon trilogy of My GRL, His Revenge and Our Justice, and who blogs at Fiction Favorites, sent:

Not funny by John W. Howell © 2017

“How did my ten-year toy get in this ice water?”

“I threw it to you, and you were looking the other way.”

“So how was I to know you were going to throw it?”

“I yelled, “Here catch.”‘

“I thought you were talking about the hot dog.”

“This is my hot dog. Why would I give it to you.”

“Cause you love me?”

“I do but not enough to give up my hot dog.”

“Speaking of dog have you seen Elmer lately?”

“No. Come to think about it I haven’t.”

“When was the last time you saw him?”

“I guess it was yesterday.”

“Weren’t there six Corona’s in this bucket yesterday?”

“I don’t know I didn’t pay much attention.”

“I’m sure of it now. I counted them yesterday.”

“Why did you do that?”

“Well, Elmer has been known to imbibe now and then so I want to see how bad it was getting.”

“How bad what was getting?”

“His drinking.”

“Wait a minute. Are you saying Elmer took those beer bottles.”

“That is exactly what I’m saying.”

“I have one question super sleuth.”

“Go ahead.”

“If he took the beers.”

“Yes?”

“How did he open them. He has no opposable thumb.”

“Hmm. Let me think on that.”

“Meanwhile get your toy out of that ice bucket it looks like it is getting soggy.”

“His teeth. He used his teeth.”

“How did he hold the bottle.”

“Damn.”

“I think you need to make up another story.”

“Okay, Elmer shoots Heroin.”

“Yeah, that’s a good one.”


My effort was:

Be nice to your fur-baby

When, at last, I received my invite
I thought, “Wow! They just did something right!”
Then I looked at the rest.
It was just as I’d guessed:
Not another four-footer in sight.

One thing they’ve not caught onto yet,
Is I’m more than just their little pet.
Not just a residual
A real individual
That, they’d do well not to forget.

When I signalled that I needed water
I was led like a lamb to the slaughter
I thought it looked queer:
It was filled up with beer.
That’s not showing respect like they ought to.

“Just a dog,” they all say, and they’re right.
“Oh so pretty, and such a delight.”
But to mess with my drink
Will drive me to the brink
From where I may give you a fright

Though his temperament’s pleasantly mild
And he loves you just like your own child
Twould be very short-sighted
Were his love unrequited
He’d feel riled, reviled, defiled and wild.

There’s a moral to this tale, you know:
Take your dog with you where ere you go
But take care of his need
For clean water and feed
Or you’ll find yourself thinking, “Oh, no!”


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 keith@channing.info 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 – pingbacks don’t often work.

Go on. You know you want to. Let your creativity and imagination soar. I shall display the entries, with links to your own blog or web site, next Monday.

Kreative Kue 136

Kreative Kue 135 asked for submissions based on this photograph:


John W Howell, author of the John Cannon trilogy of My GRL, His Revenge and Our Justice, and who blogs at Fiction Favorites, sent:

Land by John W. Howell © 2017

“Thanks for the lift my man.”

“No problem Senior Dog.”

“You can call me Trevor.”

“No problem Senior Trevor.”

“What is this place anyway?”

“It is called Fin de la Tierra.”

“What doe that mean in dog?”

“End of the Earth.”

“Ah. it fits.”

“Is there anything else you need?”

“No. I think this is all I need. Plenty of water, lots of grass and a nice lamppost. I should be very comfortable.”

“But Senior Dog?”

“Yes, what is it?”

“The water she’s salty. The grass is synthetic, and that pole is no tree.”

“Hmmm. I didn’t notice. Now that you mention it I guess I will need a few things.”

“Si Senior Trevor. Might I suggest you get back aboard and continue with us.”

“Where are you going?”

“We are going to sail to Los Cabos, Mexico.”

“You know I’ve never been there. Maybe a good idea.”

“You can work your passage.”

“What can I do?”

“Can you cook?”

“No.They don’t make body hairnets.”

“Clean?”

“Look at these paws. No opposable thumb.”

“Can you look out for things?”

“What kind of things?”

“Watch for rocks and other boats.”

“Ah ha. I think you have it.”

“What?”

“My specialty.”

“Which is?”

“Watchdog.”

“I wonder why it took me so long to get there. Jump on.”


My effort was:

Gyp’s day out

Meet me at the marina, she said. And that was all she said.

Let me go back a bit. Last weekend, I was taking my people for a walk along the sea front.

Yes. They need the exercise, you know. If they don’t get at least one good walk every day, they’ll end up putting on a load of weight, which is bad for them, and they won’t be tired enough to relax in the evening; they keep on and on: wanting this, wanting that, insisting on playing while all I want to do is stretch out and relax in front of the telly. Anyway, I was taking them for an early evening walk, when we came across the most gorgeous bitch I have ever seen. I don’t know what her heritage was; she looked like a mix of sheepdog and terrier, with maybe just a soupçon of poodle thrown in. Her hair made a well-groomed Afghan look scruffy. Yes, she was that good.

I wanted to add my DNA to her mix there and then, on the spot, but she said it would have stressed her people too much. She said that she rescued her people from a bad situation, though she didn’t elaborate on what it was. She said that they were fine with any dogs but nervous and skittish around other people.

I know, but perhaps they were never properly socialised. Early socialisation is very important to make sure they can get on with other people. You don’t have to look hard to see examples of what can go wrong if that important step is missed. Everywhere you look, there are people who can’t get on with others who are of a different breed or background. Yeah; crazy, I know. Can you imagine how it would be if I refused to talk to anyone other than Wire-haired Terriers – even other terriers. Nuts.

These people we came across at the weekend, they looked just the same as mine – all fake tan and budgie-smugglers. My people didn’t talk with them very long, but at least it meant I met Princess. Yes, that’s her name; Princess. I couldn’t think of a better name for her either.

We didn’t talk long (the humans were keen to move on and I don’t like to stress them) but Princess and I made a deep connection. We agreed to meet up without our pets so we could be more free and not have to keep an eye on what they’re up to. I’m always afraid they’ll get into a fight: I know how bad they can be with other humans. I’ve never actually seen them fight, but they shout and scream at others of their kind sometimes, and we all know how easily these things can escalate, don’t we?

So we agreed to meet at the marina. I shouldn’t worry that I can’t see her yet, though; I’m a few minutes early and she’ll probably be along soon. Perhaps I’d best take a look on the other side. She didn’t say where on the marina and there are so many boats here. She could be on any of them. Maybe I should look in each one. This first one’s too far. I can’t jump that far. Or the next one, or the next.

This one I can jump up to.

Oops. Humans inside with no dog to keep a watch on them. And they’re… ooh… what are they doing? Oh, that’s disgusting. They need a bucket of water throwing on them.

Mind you, I’m planning the same with Princess, so I shouldn’t be judgmental, should I?

But she’s not there, so I should try a few more.

Oh, here she comes now. Oh no! She’s brought her people. Why would she do that?

Wait, she’s dropped a note. “Sorry, Gyp,” it says, “my folks were crying so much when I tried to go out. I couldn’t bear to leave them, so had to bring them. Perhaps another time?”

Perhaps another time?

Is that me just got the brush-off?

How dare she? I am a purebred Wire Fox Terrier! My pedigree goes back generations and there are a good few champions in it. I’m not one to use the ‘M’ word, but it certainly applies to her. She may use one of these fancy names, but mixed heritage is mixed heritage whatever you call it. A contrived name can’t give dignity like a good pedigree does.

Perhaps it was a lucky escape. I might have violated the purity of my DNA by mixing it with inferior genes, and for what? A pretty coat, that’s what.

Good breeding is not so much what’s on the outside, as what’s deep inside. That’s what my Dad always said anyway.


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 keith@channing.info 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 – pingbacks don’t often work.

Go on. You know you want to. Let your creativity and imagination soar. I shall display the entries, with links to your own blog or web site, next Monday.