A. L. Kaplan

Tag: dog

  • Sea Dog

    Salty flicked her ears as the humans went ashore, eager to instigate her escape plan. It was all she could do to keep from yipping in joy. The lazy mutineers gave themselves shore leave again for the last time. That crew took a nap every hour and didn’t know how to scrub down the deck properly. She pried the door of the brig open and looked around to be sure no one was watching, then jumped to the dock and pulled the mooring lines free. It took only seconds to start the small prop engine on the sailing vessel with the push button start. The humans were none the wiser as Capt’n Salty took the helm and steered the boat away from the dock and out to sea.

    The rise and fall of the waves made Salty’s heart soar. Those scurvy humans could enjoy their shore leave for as long as they liked. There was no way Salty would be sent to the brig on her own ship again. She checked the charts as the isle of St. Lucia disappeared from view, smelling the salty air as it blew by. The larder was well stocked. The ocean breeze was brisk, and the sky a clear crisp blue. All Salty had to do was keep her course. Martinique was only twenty-five nautical miles away. She’d make port there and take on a new crew. Humans were easy. All a dog need do was wag her tail and look cute.

  • The Bandit

    The smell of roasted meat drifts toward me from the picnic table. Hunger gnaws at my stomach. How long has it been since I last ate? Days? Weeks? My tongue hangs from my muzzle, but I only slink further under the bush and tremble. I stole food from a table once. Master was so angry that my hip still hurts when I run. People are mean.  They bring pain, even when you try to please. Master left me tied to a tree far from home. Today is the first I have seen people since then.

    The meat smells so wonderful I can’t resist. Heart pounding with fear I dash to the table when no one looks. Hot juices sear my mouth as I snatch a brat and scurry back. I practically swallow it whole, and then shake in remembered punishment.

    My appetite is only piqued, but the man returns to the table with more meat, calling his family. One of the younglings points my way. I flatten myself to the ground and lay my ears back. Did he see me? The man walks in my direction. I am too afraid to move. Halfway from my hiding place he stops and places something on the ground.

    The family has finished eating and put away leftovers before I dare investigate. On a plate, neatly cut, is a mound of meat. I lick the plate clean and wonder; maybe some people are nice after all.

  • Love and Devotion

    Smooth gray stones burn the pads of my feet and the sun sears from above. My tongue hangs loosely from my mouth as I pant, but it’s dry and cracked, granting me no relief. I long for some shade or damp sand to cool my burning paws, but there is only the dry creek bed and blinding light.

    Days ago a stranger took me from my home and left me at the odd den with noisy animals. They took me away from the girl, my girl with the long curls and misshapen paws that feel so soothing as they stroke. The angry man hurt her, hurt our pack, but he’s felt my fangs and can’t harm anyone again. She lay so still when the strangers came and hid her under a sheet. I must find her, keep her safe from others. It’s what keeps me moving past the hunger and thirst.

    I close my eyes and picture her smiling face and warm hugs. I remember also my nighttime escape over the chain link fence to find her.

    A sudden coolness brushes me. Opening my eyes I see a trickle of water running under my toes and through the stones. The feeling sends shivers all the way to the tip of my tail. I don’t notice the roar until it crashes into me. As I am tossed in the water I know I will never see my girl again.

    Yet I feel her arms embrace me as darkness encompasses.