In response to March 2nd #1MinFiction Picture Challenge. March 2, 2022 by Cyranny
“You did what? I did not agree to that! No way, no sir, no how! What? It’s for my own good? If it’s such a good thing, you go do it and leave me here! No, I said I’m not going and I mean it! I’m not getting into that kennel, I’m not!”
“I’m not getting out of this kennel, I’m not getting out! It’s the white coats! Run, scratch, bite …. Goodnight.”
“Isn’t life wonderful? I hear the birds, the humans talking, life is good – I think I’ll go back to sleep for a while.”
In response to THREE THINGS CHALLENGE #892 by pensitivity 101. Your three words for this week are: BRUSH, HANDLE, BRISTLE
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Oh yes, right there. That’s it, push the handle a little harder. Oh yes, make me growl.
Now use those bristles, you know I love it when you pull my hair like that, flicking your brush just so. Knowing which spots to hit and which I don’t really like at all.
Oh my gosh, you are taking me to heaven. I don’t think I can handle much more. Let me shake out my hair and see how you’ve done.
That’s fabulous, here let me lick your face to say thank you. Maybe I’ll nip your nose a bit to remind you that although you are human, you will always be part of my dog pack!
The procedure to correct and reduce Dumbos massive ears to prevent him from warning circuses around the world about the terrible duo, has gone awry. Dr. Putinup and his trusted assistant Trumpit, strove to put down all resistance supporting the little elephants right to flight and freedom by garnering the likes of Turn-the-other-way-ary and the ever shadowy figure of the increasingly unpopular Polanites.
Upon removal of the little elephants bandages, surgeons and politicians all were shocked and stunned to find their efforts were in fact, in vain when these magnificent butterfly ears emerged and the proud little elephant asserted his independence by flapping his new wings and hopping right over the indignant and horrified faces of both Putinup and Trumpit and their staunch contingent of disbelieving miscreants.
She was quite serious when she looked me straight in the eye and said,
“Your CT scan revealed a large mass on the left lobe of your thyroid. The right also reveals numerous polyp type shadows that are most likely nothing to be concerned about.”
She was still speaking but my brain had stopped processing data at “large mass.”
The doctor touched my arm, her lips were moving, my ears told me she was uttering archaic sounds that should have made sense to me; but my brain had stopped functioning. A complete and major shut down without the benefit of a true and proper faint.
“In three weeks, alright? Do you need to put that in your calendar?” She peered at me with what I would later come to call that “ sympathetic but glad it’s not me” look.
My blank stare must have given away my lack of state of mind. A paper was placed in my hand and I was ushered out of the exit door by one of the office staff. She waved as she closed the door chiming,
“Have a wonderful rest of your day!” Before she bolted the door behind me.
I stood frozen, staring at the appointment card and instructional sheet of paper in my hand stating a biopsy was scheduled in three weeks. Three weeks? I had to suffer the next three weeks with the “C” word hanging over my head and the real idea that extinction, mine, was looming in the not too distant future.
What had she said? “Have a wonderful rest of your day!”
I now understood why she locked the door behind me. Smart woman.