Good Dog

She always hooked him up when it was time for him to do his business. With only six feet of leash what about all the wonderful smells? He made many attempts to pull away when he was sure he was onto some exotic scent, but his twenty pound terrier body would get yanked back by Gabby.

He loved the master. Dave would flip him the red round disc, especially during the summer on the beach. He let Clancy run through the park and get his smells in, so when Dave whistled; he'd always come running back.

“Good boy, Clancy.”

It was winter now. Clancy saw it eating a nut. He went into hyper-drive and tugged so fierce, the leash slipped from Gabby’s grasp. Off he went after the squirrel. It escaped up a tree and chattered away at Clancy.

But it was the yelling, “You damn dog…get back here,” that thrilled Clancy. He took off for the place Dave likes along the river. It started to ice over last week solid enough for Clancy to investigate. He trotted about ignoring Gabby’s calls.

He watched as Gabby shuffled toward him. He even sat down and waited, daring her to come and get him, cocking his head when they both heard the ice crackle and split.

“Come, Clancy.” Gabby pleaded.

Clancy began belly crawling to Gabby like Dave taught him. “Hurry,” she yelled and stomped her foot. That was too bad, because her left foot broke through into the black icy water.

“Ohmygod. Help me!”

Clancy made a wide berth around the gap in the ice, watching Gabby sink into the hole, all the while flailing her arms seeking something to grab onto. More ice broke and Gabby disappeared into the river current.

Clancy ran toward the whistle. “Good job, Clancy.”


Word Count: 300