STORY STARTER

Submitted by HardCoreWriter

Write a story about a dog who figures out their owner is evil.

Loyalty And Misfortune

I’ve been sitting at this door for hours. Every car that drives by, my tail wag**s**. Every horn that hunks, I growl and howl. But none of them are his.


I turn in circles, scratching at the rug before lying down and closing my eyes. Surely he’ll be home soon, I am starting to get hungry.


Another car drives by and then there’s a knock on the door. I bark and jump up, clawing my nails into the wood.


Paper slides through the slit in the door. “You have two weeks to move out before I call the cops!” Yells a very angry man.


I wag my tail more viciously, barking even louder.


A few seconds pass before I realize I’m alone. I plop back down on the rug, staring at the paper near my feet. A twist of my head and a nudge with my paw, I lower my chin and take bite into the envelope.


Galloping around the living room, I shake my head, tearing into the paper with pure delight. I jump onto the couch and then back on the floor—behind the couch I go, and then I march under the table, knocking over his beer bottles.


Little white flakes fall from the sky. I can’t take my eyes off of them. I toss the paper onto the floor and start digging into it, making more flakes.


The door opens and feet drag in. My owner is home! Sam is home! He stares at me with a tight frown on his face. “Dumb, dog,” he growls just like I do. “You’re always making a mess! I can’t believe I let my girlfriend talk me into getting a dog!” He picks up the bottles and roughly sits them on the table.


Now, he’s walking towards me. I sit, then lay before rolling onto my side, my tail wagging from both excitement and nervousness.


He grabs me by the collar and yanks me to my feet. “Now that we’re not together anymore, Its either the side of the road or the pound.” He says while struggling to pull me towards the closet door.


I whimper, but not for long. Maybe I’ve done something wrong and the only way to apologize is by obeying; he opens the door and pushes me inside, then shuts it and says, “I have to pack up all this stuff and then I’ll make my decision.”


His footsteps fade and I lower my head, looking under the door before my whole body falls to the floor.

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