Sunday Photo Fiction: The Guide Dog #amwriting #fiction


Thanks to Susan Spaulding for hosting SPF.


Credit: Susan Spaulding


“Benny, you’ve a purpose holding this lamp. You won’t grow old, hungry, become tired or sore.” I whimpered. It was difficult to understand why Beau was leaving.

“You see, Benny, everyone needs hope. Sometimes we all go through times wretched and dark. We forget that these times end, and you’ll know when and who needs your aid.” I wagged my tale and stretched myself on Beau’s wooden stump.

He scratched my ears. “I’ve lived a long life. It’s time for your master to go home. Guns and fighting plague my dreams. My brittle bones and ragged breathe can’t handle another day. Tonight help me towards the afterlife.”

I licked Beau’s face, and nuzzled into his neck. He held my head. “When I’m gone, take those such as I home. But give those who still have a chance a choice; not everyone who wants to die is at the end their life.” I woofed, but I obeyed. Beau never returned after our last walk, but I listen well.

“Oh, but you’re here now? Maybe, it’s not time for you to quit, yet? Which path do you want to take? Ah, back to your family. I knew you could do it. Here, I’ll walk you home.”


©Mandibelle16. (2018) All Rights Reserved.

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Saturday Mix: Poem – Octain/Double/High – “The Beauty of My Love” #amwriting #poetry #saturdaymix 


Thanks to Teresa of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting Saturday Mix. Saturday’s prompt was to write pasturel poetry (Fiction/no fiction) which is essentially poetry written about nature in an idyllic way. 

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Credit: Eden Hills

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The beauty of my love is sweet, divinely prized. 

Through fields of wildflower I follow her steps, 

Her milk white skin, soft, supple; she knows best,

How tiny goat kids, and dog’s pups will thrive. 

They bleet, whimper, for her hands petting coats, 

Feeding them drops of milk reviving life’s hope. 

So they wil live glorious in pastures kind; 

Become adults frolic, following my queen. 

The beauty of my love is sweet, divinely prized. 

The beauty of my love is sweet, divinely prized, 

She gathers the chickens eggs to feed, 

Those who grace her kitchen with smiles pleased. 

Finds the dairy cows, milks them all beguiling. 

She’s a feminist, believes we never stop learning. 

She chose to farm, grows organic food, serves —

Customers desiring; at market they find hers first;

My love works hard, adores our life, she’s pleased. 

The beauty of my love is sweet, divinely prized. 

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Flash Fiction for the Aspiring Writer: He Came Home


“Hey girly. Such a good girl. How about a belly rub? Last one for a few months, I’ve got to go fight some bad guys. Seems as if there is an unending supply of them. That’s life, eh Emmie?” my Dad Dylan says.

Then, he kisses my Mom Kristine.” It’s going to be alright, Kristy. You know how well we’re trained for these missions. I’ll be back in a few months sweetheart. Email me, you can write me an old-fashioned letter even.”Dylan remarks soothing Kristine. 

“What if this is the time . . . I never see you again, and it’s only Emmie and I? I’ve only had five-years with you. It’s not enough.”

Dylan hugs Kristine tight and they both cry. I feel their sadness and cuddle between them to comfort us all. I whimper and I lick their salty hands.

“Emmie, you sucky girl. I’ll be home before you know it,” Dylan tells me giving me one last pet and kissing Kristine hard.

“Don’t go Dad, don’t leave us. Mom’s sad, I don’t want her to be sad. You didn’t walk me today. Mom will be too sad to walk me….” I yap to Dylan. But he leaves.

Ages pass before I hear Dylan whistle. I bark in delight; he came home.

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http://www.pixebay.com
 
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Thanks to Priceless Joy for hosting FFftAW.

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©Mandibelle16. All Rights Reserved.

Photography 101 – Day 5 – The Great Queen Nikki in Solitude


Solittude is defined in many ways. I use it a bit facetiously when I show you my dog in her place on the sofa because she was such a family dog. Nikki was a queenly dog. She could make a pitbull whimper and held herself in away that we could only describe as regal. You couldn’t quite get to see her yesterday because the pictures were blurry but today I have a full on view of her on her “throne” couch staring out the window at her world. She would bark at everyone she can see because you were on “her” property if you could see her. This is some kind of greatness. At least for a dog it is greatness.

She also had this quality being a protective and good pet. Nikki was a pack animal and we were her pack. My little brother was lower than her on the “totem pole” so she would often in her queenly way put him in his place with little nips. Despite that, she was loveable to her family and listened well. She might not have been good with those outside of her pack but like any great dog she had her favorites. Greatness can exist in even the smallest of beings in the smallest of ways. Yet she is in solitude alone,separate from her pack in this picture. She looks back on me as if to ask, “Where are you? Come her be with me.” Dogs always want to be with their people, even in their queenliness,

Nikki sitting on her coach throne and looking out her world, the Sheba, or queenly dog. Great in her own small way.
Nikki sitting on her coach throne and looking out on her world, the Sheba, or Queenly dog. Great in her own small way.