A short story by me.
ME AND MY DOG WERE AMBUSHED THE OTHER NIGHT
So I bring pog for late walk. Turning around a corner we see a figure approaching us pretty quickly.
I’m not sure how pog will react, so I double up my leash around her chest in case she decides to lunge at it because she’s a big black dog.
And it comes closer…
I’m standing like a pole bracing for impact
ITS COMING FOR US, HELP
It proceeds to kill us with jumping, pawing and sloberry licks.
At this point, I’m internal screaming.
As if it hadn’t already stained me and pog enough, it puffs around mud for a bit and continues slaying us.
And then the unthinkable happens!
IT HNG HNNG HNNNNNNNGGGGGHHH DUPLICATES
I feel like I have to make the most impossible decision.
Which puppy do I take home with me?
Pog is dying. She’s getting chewed on and pawed at and sniffed at the inappropriate height.
She loves it
Then I have to excuse myself from the fun and games and do the right thing.
I knocked on the door of the nearest house and with a heavy heart ask “are they your puppies?”
I stop short at asking if they have a spare box or Woolies bag I can use to bundle them up to take home
The person at the door confirms its her puppy.
Insert sad face.
Pog and I bade farewell, broken and stained and continue our journey home.
AMBUSHERS CONTINUE FOLLOWING US THERE IS HOPE
Finally, the owners run down the street after us and lay off the vicious drooling beasts off us
We’re saved, and make a run for it home.
We’re OK. Pog is recovering and I need dinner.