The Lure of a White Wolf Dog

“Lovely lady, would you like to walk with me and my white wolf dog?”

That was your best pickup line? ‘Lovely lady.’ Jeez, who talks like that? So, did it work?”

“Not exactly. She burst out laughin’ and kept walkin’ away.”

“Well, of course, with a come-on like that! Whadja expect?”

“Well….”

“Aw, c’mon! Don’t tell me you actually thought …”

“Yes. Yes, I did. She likes dogs. She has a dog. Was even walkin’ it when I asked her.”

Her dog is a purebred prissy little fluff with a ribbon holding its hair out of its eyes.  Yours is a big ol’ scruffy mutt, for chrissake! No way he’d pass for a wolf dog. No wonder she laughed!”

“Clancy isn’t a mutt. Are ya, Clance. And he’s not scruffy, either. Just gave him a bath.”

“Yeah, well, looks like you’re gonna have to give him another one. Listen, you and Clancy enjoy the park. I gotta get movin’. Roxie’s parents are comin’ for dinner. If I’m late, she’ll have my hide.”

“Right. See ya…….Well, Clance, I guess it’s you and me, as usual. Whadaya think, fetch or frisbie.”

“I’ll take frisbie for 500, Alex.”

“Whoa! It’s you! For a second I thought Clancy…..I mean … not that I thought he was really talkin’ to me. It’s just, my name happens to be Alex. And yours, lovely lady?”

“You’re not gonna believe this, but my name is actually Lovely. My mom is English, and, well, over there they use ‘Lovely’ like we’d say ‘Honey.'”

“Oh. Well, it’s a lovely name. I mean pretty. …. Why’d you come back?”

“Wanted to meet your white wolf dog. Clancy has a bit of a Schnauzer look to ‘im in a sheep-dog kinda way.”

“I’ve been told he’s a mutt.”

“He is a mutt. Don’t you know? They’re the best kind.”

“Really? Where’s your little…….cutie.”

“Oh, Mitzie isn’t mine. I just walk her for a friend. That’s why I didn’t stop before. Had to get her home. Now, let’s get to that frisbie!”

 

338 words. Written in response to A Writer’s Life’s Just Start Writing (JSW) prompt to take a line from a song and use it as a first sentence. The line is from Milkwood’s “Lincoln Park,” written by Benjamin Orzechowski (before changing his name to Benjamin Orr.) Photo credit: Ebet Roberts 1978.

The Seagulls’ Fence

The falling slat startled the roosting seagulls.

“Whadaya doin’, Tommy? Supposed to be mendin’ fence not breakin’.”

“Damn gulls don’t belong this far inland.”

“They’s travellers. Sea in the morning. Eat. Home here at night.”

“Yeah? They need-a keep goin’ ‘stead-a shittin’ all over granpaw’s fence.”

“Breakin’ the fence ain’t gonna stop ’em from comin’ here, long as that compost sits there.”

“Why? Y’jus’ said they eat at sea.”

“Oh, they’s always lookin’ for food. Don’t always have a taste for fish.”

“We’ll see ’bout that. They need-a leave.”

With compost moved and covered, gulls left. Fence got mended.

 

99 Words. Written in response to Carrot Ranch’s July 12 Flash Fiction Challenge  and to Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers  Gulls photo prompt courtesy wildverbs.