As background, I participate in a couple of monthly writing challenges. At the beginning of this month, there was a challenge to write a 500-word story based on the title, "The Lost Hour." I decided to write about a dog that was lost for an hour, and the owner's discovery of what went on during that hour. This is meant to be a light-hearted story with a happy ending, and not at all meant to take away from the seriousness of the issue when a beloved pet goes missing and the bad things that could happen.
Please keep your fur babies safe, especially as the nights get scarier with Halloween approaching!
The Lost Hour
Vicki stormed through the front door, took the stairs two at
a time, and fired up the laptop. Ten
minutes later she was back outside with flyers in one hand and staple gun in
the other. Running and calling at the
same time, she papered every pole within three blocks.
Back at the house, she posted to several lost pet Facebook
pages while the printer chugged away.
~
LOST DOG
Isolde is about two feet tall, a tri-color female hound with a mostly black back,
brown face and ears, white legs and belly.
Call 148-4926 with any sightings.
~
Gotta find her before rush hour starts, Vicki thought as
she grabbed her car keys. She would
drive to the park first, then circle the area she had run and post flyers on
each block. It was 6:15 am and she was
supposed to leave for work by 7:00 to make an early meeting.
The hell with
that if I haven’t found her yet. Oh, I
hope she doesn’t get hit by a car! At
least it was lighter out now than when the dog had yanked out of her
collar.
Walking early, they didn’t usually see anyone else. Vicki didn’t have any idea why all of a
sudden today there were so many loose dogs coming from every angle to frighten
her nervous pup. Trying to lunge and bark
in three directions at once, Isolde’s emotional stress bucket had overflowed.
At the park, Vicki fell to her knees in tears when Isolde
bounded into her arms. “Oh, girlie, I’m so glad I found you! That was the worst
hour of my life! Are you OK?”
Isolde ran to the playground before Vicki could clip the
leash. Following, Vicki froze when she
saw the Belgian Malinois standing on top of the Jungle Gym. Her eyes widened and her body tensed when she
realized there were dozens of dogs in the park, filling every square inch of
ground, all focused on the Mal. Isolde
had returned to her side and was sitting in a relaxed posture – ears forward,
hackles down, brow unfurrowed. Vicki
was the one who was frowning, because of what the Mal was doing. Or what he seemed to be doing. No, he was definitely doing it. He was speaking. Not barking. Not
whining. Not howling. Speaking. In words.
“Our hour is up, so that’s a wrap! Next time you will report back on how
successful your owner rehab was.
Remember, their stress buckets are all overflowing lately with things that
aren’t important to us. Use your funny
antics to make them laugh; they really need it now. Let them pet you longer; it lowers their
blood pressure. Seniors, it will make
them happy to see you play with your toys the way you used to do.
"Now everyone hurry home before your owners wake up and
blow up the Internet with lost dog reports.
"Isolde, please leave your owner home next time!”
