Dog's Dinner
by Glyn Hedeg


I’d just started preparing lunch when I heard the barking. I was looking forward to some pork with a nice salad and rice.

"Drat that dog!” I muttered as I went through to the front room. There it was, sitting right in the centre of my beautiful lawn, a patch of white fluff surrounded by green. For the last three days it had arrived at the same time, barked, then looked through the window with its large black eyes until it saw me. Then it squatted down and left a pile of poo. The previous evening I’d seen it
with a big Alsatian, but didn’t know who owned them.

I rushed through the kitchen to the back garden, and picked up the spade. If the dog wasn’t gone before I got there, I’d make sure it knew not to come back.

It was sitting at the end of the drive. I moved towards it, and it got up, ready to run. When I moved away, it sat down again. Sighing, I scraped up the mess and put it in the bin. It watched me the whole time, and barked twice as I came back into the house. It ran off as I closed the front door.

Lunch turned out to be tuna. I must have forgotten to buy the pork.

-----

Later on, I saw paw prints on the kitchen floor.

So, a word of advice.

If you ever see a white poodle squatting on your front lawn, lock the back door, unless you want to lose your dinner.


- - -
I live, work and play in rural Wiltshire, England. I write software for a
living, and stories for fun. I love playing, laughing and wrestling with
my children, and cushion fights are a regular part of the family routine.