The Parthenon

Filed under OPINION

Jena’s Creative Corner

Advertisement

Hang on for a minute...we're trying to find some more stories you might like.


Email This Story






Puppy Love: A Short Story 

February was coming to an end, which meant soon so would the cold frigid air. I normally did my walks in the morning, wondering which path I would take. Or if I would retrace my steps back to where I came from. On my walk I noticed something; the low panting of a dog was following me. It was a stray dog, maybe it was hungry. I tried ignoring it, so my steps grew faster. I never really cared for dogs, they’re so happy and frantic all the time. The exact opposite of me. I was in a hurry to get out of the dog’s sight. I had my own problems going on, I didn’t need a dog behind my trail.

Before I knew it, my steps grew faster; I was almost skipping along the sidewalk. And yet, so was the dog. It was determined to get my attention and follow my lead. My pace was fast, but it was even faster. I wanted to turn around and ask, “Why are you following me dog?” Although, I don’t think that would do any good. I could shoo it away, but that would mean acknowledging it, giving it all the more reason to stay by my side.

At this point I was practically galloping down this long sidewalk. I was hoping and praying that someone would catch the dog’s attention, maybe the kids playing in the park or literally anything other than me. It was no use. My speed picked up and now I was completely running away from this overly excited pup. I didn’t know where I was running to, I just wanted away from this pesky dog. What had I done to make this dog stick to me? I certainly didn’t want it following me. I didn’t have any food or companionship to offer.

As my heart was beating faster, my body got slower; I couldn’t run any longer. Yet, the dog was completely unphased. As I fell to my butt, the dog crawled onto my lap. I noticed something about it. A tag dangling from its thin blue collar. I suppose he isn’t a stray, maybe he wasn’t such a pest after all. Maybe he was just trying to find his way home.

“Yeah, me too, little guy. Come on, let’s get you home.”

Jena Cordle can be contacted at [email protected] 

Print Friendly, PDF & Email
Leave a Comment

If you want a picture to show with your comment, go get a gravatar.