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Posts Tagged ‘Daily Drabbles Week 8’

Darwin’s Drabbles: Puppies and Rainbows

07 Nov

Darwin was four the first time he demonstrated his talent.

“Why you crying, CeCe?”

“I lu-lost Miss Fluh-Flowers.”

“Your puppy?”

“Uh, huh. I c-can’t find her.”

Darwin closed his eyes and thought about the stuffed animal. He saw it, dirty and discarded. The image expanded and he recognized the brightly colored graffiti on the brick wall where the toy rested.

“I find it for you,” he said and took her hand. She followed him to the end of the block and found Miss Flowers where she’d fallen from her backpack.

“You’re magic!”

Darwin shrugged and they walked back to her yard.

 

Puppies and Rainbows: By Any Other Name

06 Nov

Bowser patiently gnawed on a strip of rawhide as the debate raged.

“We are not naming him ‘Jacob’. Or ‘Edward.’ Or ‘Cullen,’ or anything from those crap books.”

“He’s my dog, Rory. I can name him whatever I want.”

“He needs a classic name. Not some stupid fad that he’ll hate for the rest of his life.”

“He’ll love whatever name I give him, won’t you boy?”

Bowser lumbered over to her. She raised him up and looked him in the eyes.

“What’s your name, little guy?”

Bowser looked back at her and thought with all his might.

“I’ve got it!”

 

Puppies and Rainbows: Shared Moments

05 Nov

As he scratched behind Bowser’s big floppy ears, Roark’s parents conferred.

“We decided, Roger. Bethany would get to pick out the puppy.”

“But look at your son. He’s smiling. He’s having fun. I can’t remember the last time he came out with us without his phone in his hand.”

“But Bethany—” Janie cut herself short as she watched her daughter approach Bowser and Roark. Roark showed her what he’d already learned about the affectionate little puppy. Where he liked to be scratched. Sounds that made him wag his tail. Bethany searched the room for her parents.

“I like this one, Mom.”

 

Puppies and Rainbows: When Bowser Met Roark

03 Nov

(don’t bother counting. it’s another double drabble)

“Hang in there! It’ll be your turn, soon.”

Easy for her to say. Bowser watched the last of his siblings get carted away no more than 6 hours after they’d been put on display. How had he managed to have the rotten luck of being the only black dog in a litter full of brown and tan spotted puppies? He sat down in the too-big pen with a huff.

People came and went. They’d spend a moment or two by his cage and just as he was getting his hopes up, they’d walk on. Parents would shuffle their over-eager children towards more “acceptable” pets. He spent the night whimpering with the rest of the dogs in the puppy room.

The next morning a family appeared. Bowser was so bummed he barely twitched his tail as they approached. The parents and the girl walked by, but the young man lingered at Bowser’s cage. Bowser picked his head up and sauntered over. He nudged the boy’s hand and gave it a tentative lick.

“I like this one, Mom,” he said to his parents with a smile. “He’s like me.”

His parents exchanged a look that could only be called significant. Bowser began to believe.

 

Puppies and Rainbows: Roark

02 Nov

Roark hated everything. He didn’t really mind his friends, but everything else was on his shit list. He hated color so he dressed almost entirely in black. He hated school because it came easy to him and classes left him bored and cranky. He hated his parents. They were perfectly content letting him be as angstful as he wanted instead of fighting him like his friends’ parents did. He hated his hyper little sister, Bethany. He hated that she got straight A’s in her first semester of middle school and got to pick out a dog.

Then Roark saw Bowser.

 

Puppies and Rainbows: Black Dog

01 Nov

Bowser was a black dog. He knew this was a bad thing, because his foster mother told him. She would say things like “Poor Bowser. You’re so sweet, but it’s hard for black dogs like you to get adopted.” Then she would scratch behind his ears a little more and kiss his head.

When he and his family were deemed big enough and old enough for adoption, they were brought back to the shelter. They were so cute the volunteers wagered on who would go first. Nobody bet on Bowser.

Even with the rainbow collar, he was still a Black Dog.

(Don’t worry about him too much, I’m pretty sure this whole week is going to be about Bowser)