Good Boy

         “It’s only a matter of time before that lion bites your head off,” the ringmaster said with a snort.

         Georgia didn’t pause, she knew that old Ruthburt’s jaws must be getting sore. This was no time to be arguing with anyone, much less the ringmaster. The jerk would only complain about having to find a new lion tamer if she got hurt. He didn’t actually care about any of his performers. Legend had it that there was a lump of stone where his heart should be.

         Finished with her task, Georgia stepped away from the lion and gave him the signal to shut his jaws. Ruthburt slowly closed his giant maw and sat waiting patiently as if expecting something. He didn’t have to wait long. Georgia picked up a raw steak and tossed it to the lion before stepping out of the gate.

         “I’m not sticking my head in his mouth three times a day without brushing his teeth,” she said while lifting the oversized toothbrush to rest on her shoulder.

         The ringmaster started to open his mouth to reply, but Georgia didn’t give him the chance. She gave Ruthburt a signal and he let out a mighty roar. The ringmaster flinched then glared at Georgia before walking away.

         Georgia went to her tent to put the toothbrush away and find another steak for the Ruthburt. He really was a good boy.