Yellow Flood

May 28, 2009
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It was a lazy Sunday afternoon and it was my turn to walk the dog. I hated it. I just wanted to sprawl on the lumpy sofa and watch the new Simpsons episode. So, I got up from my bed and walked over to the large, white door with its brass handle and gave it a quick pull. Right then the small shih tzu, Rocky, pounced on my right leg. I had barely even opened door all the way. It was then, the scent of his concentrated urine found its way into my nose. I had thought to myself the day he relieved himself on his special mat, would be the day I would get him a friend. I walked in and found his yellow pond in the corner. I ripped off four paper towel sheets, bent down, and began wiping the area down. To finish off, I sprayed the room with Febreze. Taking his leash, I walked over to the front door. He wagged his fluffy tail anticipating for that first breeze to touch his face as I opened the door, but not before I got that leash on him. I quickly grabbed him. He tried to resist but knew it was a losing battle. I pulled his blue collar over his neck. As I began to slide the rope through the buckle, he fought again. The rope slipped out, and I tried to hold on to his wriggling body the best I could while simultaneously trying to put the buckle on. Finally, victory was mine. I opened the door, and there he ran off until he felt the tension of the leash.

We walked down the street calmly, but as we rounded the corner, I heard the grinding of bicycle gears. A skinny boy whizzed by us. I knew what was coming and was about to tighten my grip on the handle, but it was too late. Rocky jolted after the bicyclist and went running after him. With each stride I came ever so close to him and he lost a foot to the kid. Running side-by-side, I leaped and grabbed him. Finally catching him, we both rolled over on the ground panting. I had my exercise for the day, and so did he. We walked back to the house with no other disturbances and drank water like we had just been rescued from the desert. I heard a trickle. I looked over in dismay, only to find the expanding yellow flood on the tile floor. I hate Sundays.





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