The Contest

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: All Star Story Writers

Chapter 20 (v.1) - ICON

Submitted: October 11, 2018

Reads: 49

Comments: 2

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Submitted: October 11, 2018

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I had slept badly, my head thumped and I felt weary from my late night out with Hugh. I made my way down to the kitchen, in search of some refreshing orange juice when Roxie immediately launched into a lecture about the perils of having yet another dog in her kitchen and preaching endlessly about health & safety and hygiene rules. Her red face had turned purple with rage.

“What are you talking about?”

“Zilla has taken them outside while I get on with breakfast,” she said. “It really won’t do, they’re filthy creatures and should never be allowed anywhere near my kitchen.”

“Look Roxie, I only came down for some orange-juice. My head is thumping and the last thing I need right now is an argument with you over something I know nothing about.”

I marched from the kitchen, determined to find out what all the fuss was about.

Zilla was in the meadow throwing a ball, and I waved to attract her attention as I made my way over.

“Do you know what all this is about?” I asked, puzzled. “I've just had a lecture from Roxie, something about having another dog in her kitchen.”

At that moment a little brown and white bundle of fur fled past me like a rocket.

“He was just sitting there in the kitchen,” Zilla explained. “He must have wandered in. I have no idea where he came from, all I know is that it's a male dog, because he's just cocked his leg up a bush.”

He then bounded over to me, stopped dead in his tracks and sat down at my feet, looking up intently into my eyes. While I stroked him gently, his kind trusting eyes never left my face and I decided there and then I just had to keep him.

“I’ve decided he will make a lovely companion for Nettie, and I’m going to call him Icon.”

Zilla's face instantly broke into a wide, relieved smile. “Yes, I couldn't agree more, he's a super little chap.”

When I told Roxie that I intended keep him, her fat purple face turned hideous with rage. “I think you should wait until you have spoken to your parents before you make any decisions,” she said, angrily tossing fried eggs on to a plate with unnecessary force.

“What decisions?” Pop said, having just entered the kitchen, looking confused.

“Eemay wants to take in this stray dog,” Roxie explained, jabbing her finger in Scott's direction, with a look of absolute disgust on her face. “I told her she must discuss it with you before she makes any decisions. One dog in my kitchen is bad enough but…”

“OK Roxie, I heard you the first time,” I interrupted. “Pop, I really want to keep him and I think he will make a lovely companion for Nettie.”

Pop went over to him and ruffled his ears. “Well he does seem to be a friendly little thing. But before we all get too carried away, I think we should find out first if he’s been micro-chipped, because his owners might be looking for him. I think we should take him to the Vet to find out.”

Roxie suddenly perked up, a look of relief momentarily softening her angry features. “Yes, Your Majesty, you're quite right. His owners are probably distraught, and out trying to find him as we speak. You might want to contact the Police to see if anyone has reported a missing dog. I'm sure he's wandered from a good home. Yes, that has to be it,” she rambled, as if emphasising the point would make it a fact.

Scott had been listening intently with a feeling of indignation at Roxie’s reaction to him now that he was a dog. It reminded him of the time he had been bullied as a boy for no reason and found it hurtful and offensive. She hates me just because I’m a dog and have fur. It's dog discrimination, but at least I know Eemay will look out for me, and that's all that matters.

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'Princess Eemay to room 5', the speaker in the waiting room ordered.

“If you pop him on to the table for me, I'll take a good look at him,” the vet instructed.

“Well, he definitely hasn't been micro-chipped but is showing some signs of distress. Apart from that he seems to be in good health,” Mr Mongrel declared. “I prescribe lots of tender loving care, and he should be fine!”

“You bet,” I said, and took him straight home to Nettie, who had suddenly gained a new friend, and I another precious little pet dog.



© Copyright 2020 Sue Harris. All rights reserved.

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