Throughout the month of March, I am participating in the Slice of Life Story Challenge. I am happy to co-host this event with the team at Two Writing Teachers. Everyone is welcome!
One of my favorite colleagues fell a couple of weeks ago, and she is in the process of mending a badly broken pelvis, a process that will take a while. Yesterday, when I checked in, her dog had just eaten two dozen chocolate chip cookies that were intended for Lisa. Today, I begin a perspective study of the event, inspired by our texts:
This series is for Lisa. Sometimes writing is a gift to make someone smile.
From Sophie the dog's POV:
Sitting in the middle of the kitchen, I watched Sarah place the trays of cookies on the counter. I tried to catch the drool, but a drop splattered on the floor in front of me. I kept my focus, giving her my cutest look.
"None for you," Sarah said, patting my head. "Chocolate makes dogs sick."
She handed me a dry, tasteless biscuit from the jar on the windowsill. I chewed it and tried to look grateful.
When Sarah left the kitchen, I inched toward the counter. Too close. I couldn't see those cookies anymore. I glanced at the door. No sign of Sarah. One more glance. No Sarah.
I jumped up, resting my front paws on the counter so that the cookies were right there at my paw-tips. If I ate quickly, I could polish off every last one of those divine puppy treats!
The first three burnt my tongue, but I resisted the urge to yelp. The next ones were perfect. I slowed down a little on the second tray, and I was just finishing the last one when Sarah walked back in.
"Sophie!" She swatted at me, but I was too fast, even with a belly full of cookies. "No! Bad dog!"
I hid in my corner. Sarah was saying bad words and banging the pans. Then, she got on the phone. I covered my ears with my paws and tucked my nose under the cushion.
When Dad came home, Sarah cried and Dad grumbled. Every now and then, I heard my name Sophie and my favorite word cookie. I didn't get out of my bed though. It seemed wiser to stay put.
"Get up, Sophie," Dad said. "We're taking you to the vet. Chocolate makes dogs sick."
Chocolate made me sick, all right, but only because of the needles and medicine that made me gag.
The next day, when I got to come home, Sarah's fresh batch of cookies were far away from the edge of the counter, out of my reach no matter how far I jumped.
"Maybe next time she bakes, she'll leave them in my reach again," I thought. "At least some of them."
Tomorrow, we'll take on Sarah's perspective!