She heard the metal door creak open and forty pounds of child landed on her ribs. Still sore from the impact of I-80, but sensing that a negative response would mean punishment, she lied as still as she could waiting for the pain to stop. The little girl was finally pulled, kicking and screaming, from her by the father. A voice came from the distance commanding the father and child duo to step away. "Not her. I'm not sure how this one slipped through my fingers, but she's in no condition for visitors right now." a voice scolded them. As the foot steps faded away and the light turned to dark again she could hear a procession of heavy doors slamming shut down seemingly endless corridors. She had no concept of how long she had been in this place or how long she would remain. She just knew she was alone, hungry again and in pain. She closed her eyes once again to dream of meadows, birds and human warmth.
She woke again to the smell of Lysol mixed with urine and the vision of a tennis shoe with a frayed denim cuff moving to and fro in rhythm with a tattered mop. An ankle peeped out and if she could have smiled, she would have. For some reason she was drawn to it. She stretched out making her whole body as long as she could from limb to limb, until one limb was outside the bars which encased her. And with it stretched out, past the bars, and the clipboard which hung from it, she managed to not only touch the ankle, but pull it towards her. At the same time a gasp came from somewhere above.
To her surprise the ankle was attached to something that stood 5'2", smelled nice and salty and smiled in a way that made her no longer feel the need to keep her tail tucked between her legs. For the first time in as long as she could remember she could feel the thumping of her tail keeping time with her heart.
Saturday, August 1, 2009
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You did a really terrific job seeing the world through the dog's perspective in this. It all felt very real, very believable - and was a pleasure to read. I'm reminded of Jane Smiley's book in which a lot of the story is told from the perspective of a horse. Fun to see your writing stretching like this.
ReplyDeleteI really liked this piece Camilla. The last line
ReplyDelete"For the first time in as long as she could remember she could feel the thumping of her tail keeping time with her heart." is just wonderful.
Well done.