She was a showdog.
She was selectively bred.
She was cherry-picked from her litter.
She knew the scent of shampoo she liked best- coconut.
She knew when she was due for a nail trim.
She wasn't a pet, she was a showdog.
All of that mattered when she was in competition, and it certainly mattered to the people who nabbed her while she was on a beach-front run.
Other showdogs don't get this, she thought to herself as she streaked along the beach, running in progressively larger circles around Daddy. Through the wispy dune grass she went, over the rise and falls of sand, along the flat stretch close to where the waves lapped gently. They tell me about their lives and I- well, I can't help but pity them. I win ribbons but I still get to run on the beach after I bring one home, and they- they get a yard with fake grass! Oh! Fake grass! What a laugh!
It was the plastic bag that caught her eye- white, small, wrinkled. It thrashed along the ground, and the sighthound remembered her trial runs, and sped toward it. Unlike other lures, though, this one was slow- and at the end of it was a human with a hotdog in his hand.
She shredded the absolute shit out of that bag- and was still shaking it when she was scooped up and plopped into the back of a car.
Well, that was a while ago now. Daddy had never come to pick her up, and she couldn't help but wonder why; other humans handled her plenty, between the groomer, the judges, the kids who came to learn about her before the shows...But none kept her for very long before Daddy came for her. Daddy was the giver of food, the one who took her places, the one who 'booped' what he called her 'snoot' every night before going to bed.
When she found the ocean again, it seemed like the right place to begin searching for Daddy, though...There was no sign or scent of humans here. What she did find, however, was of some consolation- a coconut, which had likely suffered for some time before being split open.
She recognized the scent, and practically salivated.
She pried it open a bit further, and began to dig the coconut meat out with her claws. She scooped it up, mouthful by mouthful- and began to plaster it onto her fur.
She was selectively bred.
She was cherry-picked from her litter.
She knew the scent of shampoo she liked best- coconut.
She knew when she was due for a nail trim.
She wasn't a pet, she was a showdog.
All of that mattered when she was in competition, and it certainly mattered to the people who nabbed her while she was on a beach-front run.
Other showdogs don't get this, she thought to herself as she streaked along the beach, running in progressively larger circles around Daddy. Through the wispy dune grass she went, over the rise and falls of sand, along the flat stretch close to where the waves lapped gently. They tell me about their lives and I- well, I can't help but pity them. I win ribbons but I still get to run on the beach after I bring one home, and they- they get a yard with fake grass! Oh! Fake grass! What a laugh!
It was the plastic bag that caught her eye- white, small, wrinkled. It thrashed along the ground, and the sighthound remembered her trial runs, and sped toward it. Unlike other lures, though, this one was slow- and at the end of it was a human with a hotdog in his hand.
She shredded the absolute shit out of that bag- and was still shaking it when she was scooped up and plopped into the back of a car.
Well, that was a while ago now. Daddy had never come to pick her up, and she couldn't help but wonder why; other humans handled her plenty, between the groomer, the judges, the kids who came to learn about her before the shows...But none kept her for very long before Daddy came for her. Daddy was the giver of food, the one who took her places, the one who 'booped' what he called her 'snoot' every night before going to bed.
When she found the ocean again, it seemed like the right place to begin searching for Daddy, though...There was no sign or scent of humans here. What she did find, however, was of some consolation- a coconut, which had likely suffered for some time before being split open.
She recognized the scent, and practically salivated.
She pried it open a bit further, and began to dig the coconut meat out with her claws. She scooped it up, mouthful by mouthful- and began to plaster it onto her fur.
he clacks his beak three times
once to voice displeasure
twice to hammer it home
and thrice to draw the silky thing’s attention
to the great big thing stalking towards her
all limb and flared feathers
in three whooping strides he’s upon her,
spearing his beak at the soft tassels on her buttock
wings held wide to his sides and ready to thrust him just out of her teeth’s reach
give it,
the tilt of his head suggests
before he stabs his beak in her general direction once more.
once to voice displeasure
twice to hammer it home
and thrice to draw the silky thing’s attention
to the great big thing stalking towards her
all limb and flared feathers
in three whooping strides he’s upon her,
spearing his beak at the soft tassels on her buttock
wings held wide to his sides and ready to thrust him just out of her teeth’s reach
give it,
the tilt of his head suggests
before he stabs his beak in her general direction once more.
October 08, 2024, 12:49 AM
The first click went unnoticed.
The second one (the first warning that the sighthound actually noticed) roused her suddenly from her careful preening, but like anyone witnessing a modern-age dinosaur for the first time, she was so gobsmacked by the sight that the long-legged creature was able to close the distance before she could scuttle away. She uttered a nearly voiceless squeak, so high pitched it was barely a whistle as she scrambled sideways, kicking up sand and sending the coconut toppling.
She scrambled away, keeping her body curved toward the feathered creature so she could keep it in her sight. She felt the sting of freshly conditioned hairs plucked from her skin by their splitting ends.
The bird recoiled slightly. She paused, breathing heavily, and after a moment’s consideration, she spat a grain sand out of her mouth and shouted.
Great Danes weren’t biters, though. Whatever this bird was, it probably had a bit of chihuahua in it somewhere.
The second one (the first warning that the sighthound actually noticed) roused her suddenly from her careful preening, but like anyone witnessing a modern-age dinosaur for the first time, she was so gobsmacked by the sight that the long-legged creature was able to close the distance before she could scuttle away. She uttered a nearly voiceless squeak, so high pitched it was barely a whistle as she scrambled sideways, kicking up sand and sending the coconut toppling.
She scrambled away, keeping her body curved toward the feathered creature so she could keep it in her sight. She felt the sting of freshly conditioned hairs plucked from her skin by their splitting ends.
The bird recoiled slightly. She paused, breathing heavily, and after a moment’s consideration, she spat a grain sand out of her mouth and shouted.
OFF!Daddy would use that tone of voice when she’d been a pup, and had jumped up on something in Home. It triggered something domestic within her to hear herself repeat the word that nowadays made her tuck her tail and scoot away. The feeling didn’t last long; the sting of her skin persisted.
Bad dog!She accused.
Bad….big…Big…Big Great Dane of bird!
Great Danes weren’t biters, though. Whatever this bird was, it probably had a bit of chihuahua in it somewhere.
October 08, 2024, 01:00 PM
(This post was last modified: October 08, 2024, 01:01 PM by Blue Mist.)
rude dog rude dog!
he sprung back
great arms outstretched
and feathers ruffling.
a stormwind hiss
expels in buckshot from his slender throat
dancing silt legged round her silky frame
another thrust
another greedy jab
and he is running
ungainly flapping and flying limb
with the coconut’s rim
dangling from his thin beak.
he sprung back
great arms outstretched
and feathers ruffling.
a stormwind hiss
expels in buckshot from his slender throat
dancing silt legged round her silky frame
another thrust
another greedy jab
and he is running
ungainly flapping and flying limb
with the coconut’s rim
dangling from his thin beak.
October 10, 2024, 10:41 AM
As if in a dance she is forced to sidestep, crossing paw over paw to avoid the rattler’s hiss of breath that comes from deep within the wedge-faced bird, and the jabs of its spear like beak. She yipped helplessly as the yellowish beak snatched the coconut- and the bird beat its great, feathery wings to escape.
But that was her coconut conditioner, and she beach store seemed short on supply.
But that was her coconut conditioner, and she beach store seemed short on supply.
Swiper no swiping!She’d stolen socks many times- often just to initiate a game of chase but Daddy was never impressed.
Giving back! Or I do de Nala Stomp on your butt!She hurled threats as she sped after the bird, leaping to snap at its broad, beating wings and dangling legs.
October 11, 2024, 09:51 AM
flying is ungainly business until you catch a good wind;
blue mist has no such luck
the wind dies beneath his feathers
and he sinks to the ground with a squawk
as the dog beneath snaps at his tailfeathers
he drops the coconut
just as the barbie dog pounces upon it.
no choice here. he’s outmuscled.
he stalks wide steps around her
velociraptid and hungry
rifling his long feathers in irritation.
his moment will come soon enough.
best to leave her guessing.
blue mist has no such luck
the wind dies beneath his feathers
and he sinks to the ground with a squawk
as the dog beneath snaps at his tailfeathers
he drops the coconut
just as the barbie dog pounces upon it.
no choice here. he’s outmuscled.
he stalks wide steps around her
velociraptid and hungry
rifling his long feathers in irritation.
his moment will come soon enough.
best to leave her guessing.
October 16, 2024, 07:32 PM
Even with great strokes of his wings, the long-legged bird was unable to fly out of her reach. With a soft thud, the coconut was dropped and the sprightly windhound was quick to pounce upon it, rotating it carefully with one tiny paw until the cracked edge faced the sky. With an aggravated sigh, she rolled her eyes.
The meat of the coconut was covered in sand now. It would have to be washed before she could use it again and now, the snake-eater circled around her in an intimidating orbit.
Fresh water would be better than salt water, she thought. Salt water would make her fur dry, split the ends even more. She glanced past the bird as he stalked around her, up the shore where she hoped to see an estuary, a river or some kind of watershed that spilled fresh water to the ocean, but could see none. At this point, it seemed a fruitless task- but she held onto the coconut shell not because it was useful to her, but because it was something the bird seemed to want, and keepaway had always been one of her vices.
The meat of the coconut was covered in sand now. It would have to be washed before she could use it again and now, the snake-eater circled around her in an intimidating orbit.
Kennel!She barked at the bird- a command the creature would not likely understand.
Go -kennel-She enunciated, as if the instruction might be clearer if spoken twice. She picked up the sand-covered coconut shell then, and glanced toward the frothing surf.
Fresh water would be better than salt water, she thought. Salt water would make her fur dry, split the ends even more. She glanced past the bird as he stalked around her, up the shore where she hoped to see an estuary, a river or some kind of watershed that spilled fresh water to the ocean, but could see none. At this point, it seemed a fruitless task- but she held onto the coconut shell not because it was useful to her, but because it was something the bird seemed to want, and keepaway had always been one of her vices.
October 18, 2024, 09:28 AM
(This post was last modified: October 18, 2024, 09:29 AM by Blue Mist.)
kennel?
he tilts back his head with a war-cry squawk
rude dog, rude dog!
now the slinky off-white thing
is carrying off his treatie! rude rude rude
he clacks his beak
taking long strides after her
where is she going? where is she going?
with his fruit shell?
he nips at her tail as it bobs like a delicious worm
spitting out tufts of silky fur
and leaping back with magpie giggles
his wings fanning out in front of her as he trills
and struts boldly behind her.
he tilts back his head with a war-cry squawk
rude dog, rude dog!
now the slinky off-white thing
is carrying off his treatie! rude rude rude
he clacks his beak
taking long strides after her
where is she going? where is she going?
with his fruit shell?
he nips at her tail as it bobs like a delicious worm
spitting out tufts of silky fur
and leaping back with magpie giggles
his wings fanning out in front of her as he trills
and struts boldly behind her.
October 23, 2024, 11:21 AM
Her tail swept hastily between her hind legs when the manic bird tweaked a few more feathery strands from it- the horror! It would take months for her plume to have a nice even feathering again! She remembered the one groomer she’d had- only once!- who had trimmed her bum puffles too short. She remembered how Daddy had pointed at her fur, pulled the strands of coarse chopped feathers out to their meagre length, and had used his big voice with the groomer.
Daddy wasn’t here to fend the bird off now- and her big voice hadn’t worked.
She had only one alternative- to show him the meaning of haste.
The windhound veered past the bird’s fanned wings, and began to sprint down the beach. The sand beneath her feet gave away and sprayed out behind her- lessening her speed- but like a white streak she went nonetheless. She did not look behind, only ahead.
In her mind, the words from one of Daddy’s favourite moving pictures came to mind. He would shout it when she got the zoomies.
Fly, you fools!
Daddy wasn’t here to fend the bird off now- and her big voice hadn’t worked.
She had only one alternative- to show him the meaning of haste.
The windhound veered past the bird’s fanned wings, and began to sprint down the beach. The sand beneath her feet gave away and sprayed out behind her- lessening her speed- but like a white streak she went nonetheless. She did not look behind, only ahead.
In her mind, the words from one of Daddy’s favourite moving pictures came to mind. He would shout it when she got the zoomies.
Fly, you fools!
November 14, 2024, 02:32 PM
he gives chase but realizes this comes at a cost
his energy is a resource-heavy prize
it must be conserved
meanwhile this deformed wolf flies past as if she doesn’t worry about dinner.
blue mist slows his running legs,
flapping his heavy wings three times
the bird equivalent of the middle finger
a long hiss snaking out from his serpentine throat
she wins this time
but he will not forget her face.
his energy is a resource-heavy prize
it must be conserved
meanwhile this deformed wolf flies past as if she doesn’t worry about dinner.
blue mist slows his running legs,
flapping his heavy wings three times
the bird equivalent of the middle finger
a long hiss snaking out from his serpentine throat
she wins this time
but he will not forget her face.
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