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Rated: E · Short Story · Animal · #1872929
A cute story I wrote inspired by the true events of the dogs in my family.
I wrote this for a class and thought it was cute.  I realized that pretty much every story I post is pretty Dark, so I decided this would be a bit refreshing.  I just hope I described them enough to make you giggle too.



Primo sat in the bright sunlight.  His studious eyes examine the landscape, his kingdom. His large pink nose twitches inquisitively with each new breeze, bringing the scent of the surrounding acreage.  He reminds me of a majestic lion with his golden fur and booming bark that could be called a roar. 

He suddenly sees a black squirrel run across the valley, and a number of things happen at once.  He jumps from his sitting position where I was petting him and vaults himself to the fence, his oh-so-ferocious bark echoing through the hills, threatening the squirrel while his large tail wags.

“Intruder!  Intruder!  Alert the Troops!” he seems to say, tunnel vision completely focused on the furry fiend.

The “Troops” (more commonly known in my family as Heidi and Mocha, my brother’s dachshunds) fly through the doggy door, joining Primo in the barking frenzy.  The boom of Primo’s bark and the yapping of the Troops combine to make a formidable force to be reckoned with, especially if one has a bushy tail, eats nuts, and is a part of the rodent family.

I let the barking continue a little longer; letting them warn any other intruders that this small, fenced in area is off limits, then call them in.

“Primito Puppito!  Heidi Hops!  Mocha Joe!” I call, and to my great surprise, they come to me, Primo loping at a comfortable pace, the Troops taking five steps for every one of his.

“Did you get the evil squirrel?”  I asked, laughing.  The Troops respond by hopping into my lap, and Primo lies down next to me with a big Labrador grin on his sweet face.

I resume petting him, examining his beautiful coat.  Golden with blonde highlights, and longer than a true Lab’s coat due to the Golden Retriever in him.  He smells of the backyard, a little dusty with a hint of rosemary (apparently he has been in the flower beds again).  I smile, and then laugh when he looks at me with his big brown eyes.

“Yes, you did a good job protecting me,” I say, answering the inquisitive look in his eyes.  He licks my hand twice with his large, soft, pink tongue and flops onto the ground next to me, cuddles up to my side, lays his chin on his paw, and sighs contentedly.

© Copyright 2012 A. L. Bond (raiderchic007 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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