Welcome back to the daily prompts. The third for this week.
‘It followed me home’
‘Is it for dinner or to play with? Or both?’
Mother breathed out fire which licked towards the terrified two-legged creature I had found half-frozen at the edge of the lake. I’ve no idea how it got there, but it appeared sweet and harmless and I had gently warmed it with my own breath – which I’d recently learned to control, and was very proud of this – until it opened its eyes.
When it found a dragon staring into its white face, it opened its mouth too, and let out a high-pitched squeal, like the field mice do when about to be taken by an owl.
I stepped away, giving the poor thing room. Of course, silly of me not to realise it would be frightened. Mother is always telling me how scary dragons are, so I should have thought.
But then, as I backed off, the creature scrambled to its feet and stared at me. It blinked, its lips lifted at the corners in an expression which seemed to offer a friendly hello. I blinked too, and stayed still so as not to scare it further. It lifted an arm and held a hand out to me, beckoning. Well, wasn’t it a brave little animal?
The creature seemed to have lost its fear, so I slowly, slowly, pushed my head forward until I was very close. It stayed very still, and I gently nudged its face with my nose. It startled like a baby deer, but didn’t run.
I wanted very much to take it home to show Mother, but I wasn’t sure she’d let me keep it. Well, I could try.
Come on, I silently urged the creature, and squatted down to encourage it to climb onto my back.
With a shrill laugh, as if it couldn’t believe what was happening, the creature clambered on and held tight as far as their arms could reach around my scaly neck. I carefully launched into the air, reminding myself not to do air tumbles, and flew straight to the caves.
And now we were here, and Mother was questioning me, as I knew she would.
‘Not to eat!’ I was horrified. Besides, it would be a mere morsel and unsatisfying at that, as there was hardly any flesh on it. ‘It followed me home,’ I explained. ‘Can I keep it, please? I’ll look after it, feed it, exercise it, clean up its business.’ I lowered myself to my knees and opened my green eyes very wide. ‘Please, Mother?’
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A twist of tale (ha! ha!)
My contribution:
It followed me home. A cute little golden-haired Labrador puppy – obviously lost – and probably no more than eight weeks old.
What was I to do with him? I lived alone in a two-bedroom apartment and worked long hours just to make ends meet. As a result, I had little time to look after a dog, particularly a puppy that would need a lot of training. And Labradors were notorious at this age – would chew everything in sight and eat like a horse.
Still, he looked so eager, expectant brown eyes devouring mine, his tail wagging constantly.
I just couldn’t bring myself to abandon him, toss him back out in the street with no one to care for him.
So, I began thinking of solutions. Perhaps my next-door neighbour, the kindly Mrs Phelps, could look after him while I was at work and then I could take over when I got home.
No harm in asking, I thought, as I knocked on her door.
The familiar, smiling face of my neighbour appeared before me.
“Hello Jim, nice to see you. How are you? What’s that you’ve got there?” she beamed.
“I believe it’s a lost puppy,” I responded. “He followed me home and I haven’t the heart to toss him back into the street.”
“No, we can’t have that now, can we?” Smile ever broadening. “Let’s have a look. He must be starving.”
And with that, she rummaged in a cupboard and came up with several dry biscuits that she placed in a bowl.
The puppy devoured them in an instant, barely pausing for breath.
“Told you he would be hungry.”
“Yes, I realise – but I can’t really look after him because as you know I work long hours and there is no one living with me.”
Mrs Phelps smiled once more. “That’s ok, Jim, I am more than happy to help.”
“You know it’s going to take up a lot of your time,” I replied. “He’s got to be walked regularly, toilet trained, and taught obedience. And being a Lab he’ll be into everything before you know it.”
“Not an issue,” she said. “I grew up on a farm and am used to animals. I can’t remember the number of dogs I trained during my time there.”
I looked at Mrs Phelps with a great deal of affection. This woman was my saviour – and it would mean that out golden-haired little puppy would have a good home and a great life.
“Great,” I sighed with relief. “Now, all we have to think of is a name.”
“How about Lucky,” she responded.
Lucky – excellent! Wish one of those would follow me home, it would save me a fortune when we go to buy another dog LOL