In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “A Dog Named Bob.”
On Wednesday, I said I was going to complete the writing prompt, ‘A Dog Named Bob’ from the blog, The Daily Post, and I may have forgotten to post the result.
Better late than never! Enjoy!
Bob could smell it. He just couldn’t place what it was. A slight tingling in his nose, like an itch he couldn’t scratch. What was it? The rich, sweet, intoxicating smell was coming from the kitchen; coming from the warm, bright room where he could hear Dorlene humming and bustling about. He made his way through the dim hall and the dusty parlor towards her, towards the warmth and light that emanated from the sun drenched room, towards the familiar movements and melodic voice.
He paused briefly at the screen door to watch two blue jays flutter past in playful loops; their feathers shinning ever so slightly from the morning sun. He watched the trees wave to each other in the breeze and breathed deep the fresh summer air. He was roused from his reverie by the smell, the sweet, wonderful smell that had pulled him from the comfort of his bed and dreams.
In the kitchen, Dorlene was setting the table, putting the last plate in its place. Dancing around in her carefree way, singing along to the radio, she glided over to him, giving him a loving scratch behind his ear and their usual nose to nose nuzzle. She must have been up early to draw, her fingers stained with splotches of ink. It wasn’t unusual for her to do her best work before the rest of the world awakes.
Then came Daniel. Daniel came in through the screen door grumbling something about the mailbox and discarding the mail like a Frisbee on the countertop. Dorlene gave a giggle, leaving Bob for Daniel. It was because of this that Bob had taken to disliking Daniel very much. Dorlene was always leaving him for Daniel. Dorlene belonged to Bob. Not Daniel.
Dorlene announced that breakfast was ready. That such trivial matters, such as the mailbox and all its ilk, should never be dealt with before breakfast. She motioned for Daniel to take his seat before handing him a plate of pancakes, eggs and bacon and placing the freshly warmed container of maple syrup on the table.
That had to be what Bob had smelled. The syrup! Dorlene always bought pure maple syrup that smelled sweater than anything Bob had ever smelled before. She called for him to come to her, to join them at the table, but Bob sat in the corner like a statue eyeing the man who had taken his place. He could feel a grumble in his belly. Was it hunger or anger? He wasn’t sure. He let out a quiet, low, thunderous growl. It was anger.
Daniel called for Bob. Beckoned him forth; but this only enraged Bob. He would not, could not be summoned by this stranger, this interloper. Dorlene let out a heavy sighed, saddened that Bob refused to join and be part of the family. Daniel reached across the table, placing his hand on Dorlene’s. He held up a slice of bacon for Bob to see. Wiggling it from side to side bidding Bob to come and get it with an eager smile.
Bob could smell the sweet and salty scents mix. The aroma was intoxicating and mesmerizing. He stood, inching forward with each wave of the delicious bribe. This could all be a rouse. A trick to get him to join them only to never be rewarded upon arrival. He’d fallen for that before. But what if it wasn’t a rouse? His mouth began to water at the thought. Anticipation and hope got the better of him and warily strode to Daniel’s side.
Daniel patted him on the head.
“Good boy!” he said feeding him the strip of bacon. “See honey, he’s warming to me. We’ll be best buds before summers over. Just you wait and see.”
After breakfast, and several more slices of bacon Daniel snuck to him under the table, Bob laid happily. In the light of the sun, on the kitchen floor, by the screen door watching the blue jays chase each other to and fro outside in the breeze, Bob thought that Daniel might not be such a horrible human after all.