All That Matters

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Flash Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
A segment in the life of this dog, an important one.

Submitted: March 14, 2016

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Submitted: March 14, 2016



Through the morning mist the Cocker Spaniel ran while crossing a creek with almost no reduction of speed.

Suddenly she turned towards a knoll where a thatched roof cottage rested, overlooking the ocean.

She was an old dog, her once golden hair showed signs of gray around her big brown eyes and along her nose; but the fog and the salt air always seemed to invigorate her and she often acted young again.

Her pace increased as she heard the sound of a voice calling her, "Goldie!"

Goldie and the neighbor's Irish-setter had been hunting rabbit in Sanders fields again. Goldie never ate them; she would take her catch home to the cottage and lay whatever she had killed at her Lady's feet.

Her Lady would cook it up into a stew for them to share, and that was right by Goldie, she liked the stew better than uncooked rabbit.

"Goldie, --- come girl!" Called the voice she had not heard in such a long time, the voice of her boy that was now a man.

Goldie rounded the corner of the cottage to see a man in uniform, but it wasn't the mail carrier. The man sat in a chair, with wheels, just outside the cottage door.

Goldie stopped until the man said, "Come Girl!"

That voice told her who he was and she bounded into his lap just like a puppy, wiggles, licks, and all.

The wheelchair did not matter, the uniform did not matter, it was her boy and that is all that mattered to this old dog.


D. Thurmond / JEF  ---  03-14-2016

© Copyright 2018 D. Thurmond, aka, JEF. All rights reserved.

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