Hi. My accent of choice today is British. I do hope that it translates into the way I’m typing. And I do fancy a hope that you are having a splendid day of good cheer. Okay okay! I’m no Ed Sheeran. Criminy! Try to be a little bit different and… Uh oh… Did I just type that on the screen? Sorry. Sometimes I don’t edit as fast as I type. Any hoo. I really do hope you’re having a great day.
Today I’m going to crank out another short story for you. You look like you could use a little fun. Enjoy!
“I’ll Be Doggone”
Doctor Stanley Emmet stood casually next to his exam table. He is the living photo of a short/slim middle aged balding man, dressed in light blue hospital scrubs, wearing a white lab coat. His light blue eyes sparkle with kindness. With a neighborly tone he says, “Don’t worry Mrs. Gillory. We’ll take really good care of Champ for you. We’ll get his tail bobbed, and he should be ready to go home in just two days.” “Doctor Emmet. I really appreciate hearing that. I heard that you’re the best veterinarian in the city. I wouldn’t trust anybody else but you to clip Champ.” “There’s nothing to worry about Mrs. Gillory. Your Champ is in good hands.”
Mrs. Gillory smiles and bends down to pat Champ on the head before she leaves. She didn’t have to bend very far. Champ was a good size Pit Bull.
Sarah Gillory’s small dear face was crinkled with the lines of a thousand smiles. Most people wouldn’t think that such a smallish plump black woman, would never be the owner of a muscular, seventy pound, fighting dog breed. Outfitted in her pale-blue, knee-length summer dress, her fifteen year old beige sweater, and a pair of old style white sneakers, she looked more like a grandma than the owner of a canine brute. She responded to the doctor.
“Thank you Doctor Emmet.” Then she looks down at her tan colored puppy. “Now Champ you be a good dog and don’t give the Doctor no troubles, you hear me sweetie?” Champ wags his tail and looks deeply into his owner’s eyes.
Since he was ten weeks old, his heart was filled with love for the elder black lady that sang him to sleep at night, gave him his baths, played with him in the backyard, and gave him lots of doggie treats. His tongue lolled out of his mouth, and as close as he could come to a grin, he grins at Sarah.
On impulse, he looks over his shoulder at the veterinarian, barks once, then turns his head to look back at Sarah. “Don’t worry Miss Sarah. Me and the doc will get along real good, just as long as he leaves my tail alone.” Champ tells her this with a great big doggie smile.
Sarah Gillory’s face shows surprise. She stands up slowly, clasping her purse tightly. Her eyes lock onto the eyes of Doctor Emmet, and his lock onto hers.
They told him in veterinarian school that no dog could ever master human speech. So he was most certainly stunned! The shock was so big that he couldn’t think of what he should say first.
But in only a few seconds, Sarah smiles apologetically and says, “Doctor Emmet. I had no idea that this rascal, Champ, was going to change his mind before we got here.” She said this with her eyes opened wide with amazement.
With embarrassment plastered all over her face, Sarah takes her eyes away from the doctor, and quickly bends down to attach a leash to Champ’s collar. “Doctor, I’m really so sorry we bothered you.” And in a scolding voice she says to her six month old puppy, “Now Champ, you go ahead and tell Doctor Emmet your sorry, and thank him for seeing us.”
Do you have a Champ at your house? You never know.
I sincerely thank you for reading. And may God bless you in ways that let you know He’s there.