Weekly Flash Contest #3: Write from the Point of View of an Animal
Write about a day in the life of your pet or a friend’s pet, as if you were that pet. Remember to think about what it might be like to be an animal. How do they see the world? What do they think about humans and their fellow animals? What are their hopes, their dreams, their fears? This is a great exercise in point of view.
The week commencing April 13th was a very special week for our Daily Creativity series. We had a takeover, by one of our readers, Molly Torinus, age 11, from Middleton, WI! Molly is a volunteer in our COVID-19 Focus Group, and she wrote a whole series of terrific writing prompts for us. When we planned her takeover, we all agreed that this prompt, challenging everyone to write from the point of view of an animal (Daily Creativity prompt #16), would be a great one to set as the contest. You all seemed to think so too, as we had a record number of entries!
We were thrilled that Molly also joined the Stone Soup team to be one of this week's judges. Once the contest closed at the end of last week we all read the entries independently, and gave them our own scores. Then, we put the 3 judges' scores together to come up with a shortlist, and had a Zoom meeting to discuss it and agree the final results. It's the first time we have had a reader judge in one of our contests, so it was very exciting for us to work with Molly on the contest: we can tell you that she was a very thoughtful and fair judge, and we really enjoyed working with her on this contest. We will try to get readers involved again in future, so look out for another takeover soon!
We all very much enjoyed reading these entries, and we were impressed by the different ways people approached the challenge of thinking like their pets. We especially loved the entries that really sounded like the thoughts and behaviours of animals we have met. It was easy to agree on our top contestants; and we also wanted to honor some of the other entries, as there were so many good ones. So, this week, we are announcing our 5 Winners, whose work is published below, plus 4 Honorable Mentions. Congratulations to all of them, and thank you Molly for a great writing challenge, and a fantastic job as a judge!
Winners
(work published on this page)
Yutia Li, 10, Houston, TX
Anna Rosini, 12, Arlington, VA
Audrey Tzeng, 11, Rocklin, CA
Ella Yamamura, 12, Cary, NC
Sophie Yu, 12, Houston, TX
Honorable Mentions
"Chickens and Playtime" by Nora Heiskell, 12, Philadelphia, PA
"Piano Bunny" by Maya Mourshed, 8, Silver Spring, MD
"The Great Indoors" by Enni Harlan, 13, Los Angeles, CA
"A Good Summer Day: A Day in the Life of Moti" by Anushka Trivedi, 9, Silver Spring, MD
We also received a drawing last week which seemed to fit really nicely with this contest, so we are using it as an illustration for this page. Allie Dollar, 11, of Monticello, FL, thought that the dogs–as well as their owners–should be wearing masks while out for their walks during the pandemic, so she drew some for them. Thank you, Allie!
Remember, we are running the Flash Contest every week during the COVID-19-related school closures and shelter-in-place arrangements. It is always based on the first Daily Creativity prompt of the week. The prompt is posted on Monday, entries are due by Friday, and the winners are chosen and announced the following week.
"Pixie," by Yutia Li, 10
Ding-dong! Oh no. The doorbell is never a good sign. I hear a click and a creak, and an unfamiliar, pungent odor reaches my nostrils. I wrinkle my nose. This scent is new to me. It smells slightly like Olivia but with more of a sharp, aromatic tang. This person must’ve used some of that perfume thing that humans use. I hear energetic voices at the door. It’s Olivia and one of her friends, by the sound of it. Pretty pretty please don’t say that that person’s coming inside. No! The door slams shut, and footsteps round the corner. I make a dash for it, but it’s too late. The perfumey person is right on my heels. She scoops me up and cuddles me. Ew! That stupid odor. I think I’m allergic to it.
“Pixie!” she coos. She has short brown hair and like, a trillion freckles. Kinda similar to Olivia, but her height is much shorter. Oh, and the stinky perfume, of course. “I’ve heard so much about you! You’re the best kitty ever, aren’t you? Yes you are. Such a cutie pie!” She scratches behind my ears, and I wince. No smelly hands are allowed on my beautiful fur! I try to scramble out of her arms, but her grip is too tight. After like, ten minutes of cuddling and rubbing, she finally releases me.
I automatically scramble up the stairs and to my favorite hiding spot, a cubby right under Olivia’s bed. Her fragrance of fresh aloe and lavender never fails to soothe me. I’m just getting ready to doze off when the doorbell rings. Again?! More people? Ugh! This must be one of those playdates or whatever you call them. But I’m safe here. Olivia would never let any harm come to me. Yet as I lie there, the doorbell rings a third time. And a fourth. And a fifth. What the heck? Is this the largest playdate ever or something? I sure hope they don't stay long. I don’t need any more perfumey people cuddling me today. OMG! My kibble! It’s almost my dinnertime! I can’t go and get my food with all these people down there, though! My mind is lost in a whirlwind of thoughts. But the scent of lavender soothes me and my thinking. It’s okay. Olivia will protect me no matter what. Before I know it, I’m asleep.
* * * * *
Fresh light and loud voices finally awaken me. I blink groggily. Where am I again? What time is it? My kibble! Hunger pangs gnaw at my belly. No! Alice and Gus may have taken my food! Ever since Olivia’s family got them, they’ve been a huge nuisance. They’re constantly stealing my kibble and urging me to play fight with them. As if play fighting is my top priority.
“Pixie, there you are,” Olivia remarks, bringing me back to the present. She scoops me up, and I blink up at her, purring. Suddenly, I stiffen. I smell perfume. Looking around, I see that freckled perfumey girl grinning at me. I narrow my eyes. And there are even more people! There are six more girls in the room. I try to take in them all. One has rainbow glasses, one is wearing a Harry Potter shirt, which is a good movie, by the way. One has curly black hair, one has red hair, and two are tall and blond-haired, probably twins. At least none of the others smell like that perfume.
Olivia carries me up to their third floor. I know where we’re going! The movie room! The movie room is my favorite! It always smells like buttered popcorn and it’s always so warm and cozy! I shift in Olivia’s arms. I’m ready for a good movie tonight. Nine Lives, please! Or Garfield! Or the Secret Life of Pets! Those are my favorites. But wait! Why are all the girls following? Isn’t tonight supposed to be a private night between Olivia and me? And the perfumey girl is carrying Alice! Not Alice! The red haired one is also carrying Gus! Oh no! What will I do? I squirm in Olivia’s arms. Let me out of here! I don’t want to be stuck in a room with all these strange people, plus the two most annoying, immature cats ever! The more I fidget, the more Olivia’s grip tightens. Why are you doing this to me? I let out an indignant mew, but that’s no use. We’re upstairs in the movie room already, and the door is already shut. Olivia sets me down on the couch. I quickly scurry towards the door and claw at it, even scraping the white paint, but to no avail. It’s hopeless. I’m probably gonna be stuck in here the whole evening, forced to deal with stinky perfumes, stupid humans, and two very annoying cats.
Two large hands suddenly lift me up into the air. I look up. Rainbow glasses girl is holding me. I snarl at her, but she just cuddles me tighter. Doesn’t she know she isn’t even holding me properly? Too much pressure on my belly! The lights flick off. The movie’s starting! Put me down! I squirm out of the girl’s grip and edge closer to the TV. What movie is it? A Dog’s Journey? Oh come on! It’s not a bad movie, I suppose, but why does everything need to be about dogs? Arms scoop me up , and I squeal. It’s the perfumey girl again! Ugh. I kick and scratch at her, the acrid stench filling my nostrils.
“Kalia, the movie’s about to start! Hurry up!” Olivia calls. The perfumey girl, who must be Kalia, sets me down and runs to sit next to Olivia. Good. No more perfume for a while, at least. But the rainbow glasses girl suddenly turns and stares at me. Uh oh. I scamper toward the back of the room, hoping I can hide there. There’s nothing except a stack of pillows which Alice and Gus are crouched behind, which won’t do me any good. I scan the room. Yes! There’s a narrow space behind the TV! I sprint toward it, dodging the rainbow glasses girl’s flying arms. I squeeze into the slot. It’s not as narrow as I thought. I should make do here for the evening. Plus, I can hear everything that’s going on in the movie clearly. I’ve been sitting there for about ten minutes when a new girl pokes her face around the corner. I think this one’s the redhead, though it’s hard to tell in the dark. She reaches in tentatively, but frowns and draws her arms out.
“Pixie’s not coming out!” she shouts. I roll my eyes.
“Just give her some time, Emmy,” Olivia replies. “She’s probably kind of overwhelmed right now.” Thank you! At least someone understands me!
“Okay.”
I curl up in a ball with my tail over my nose, listening to the sounds of the movie and the girls squealing and munching popcorn. I try to fall asleep but the blaring of the speakers right next to me keeps me awake. When will these girls go home? I yearn to spend some private time with Olivia right now.
After sitting there for another thirty minutes, Olivia pokes her head in.
“C’mon, Pixie!” she coos. “My friends want to cuddle with you.” One-hundred percent not happening! I shrink back. “Please? I promise they won’t hurt you at all.” I recoil even more. Olivia sighs. “Sorry, Pix. But I need to do this just this one night.” She reaches in and grabs me by the scruff. Olivia! Why are you doing this to me?! No! I flail and kick and bite. I don’t want to! Put me down! She sets me down in the arms of Emmy, the redhead. I see Alice being cradled by the girl with curly black hair, and Gus by the perfumey one, Kalia. They stare at me helplessly. Emmy squeezes me tight and massages my back. Ow! Way too hard. Ugh. I can barely even breathe. Emmy finally hands me to one of the blonde twins. Noooooooo! Help! Am I just gonna spend my whole night being passed around like this? Luckily, the twins seem nice, until one takes a potato chip and tries to shove it in my mouth. Ew! Doesn’t she know chips can make me sick? I spit on it and even knock it out of her hand, but she still holds it in front of my mouth. I look over at Olivia. She’s engrossed in the movie and totally oblivious to what’s happening here. Suddenly the blonde girl drops me and the potato chip. Oof! I land on the carpet head first. Ouch! I think it may be a bit bruised. Stupid humans. I look up. All of the girls are dashing downstairs. Hmph. I’m finally free of them, though! I’m about to return to my hiding place when Olivia pauses, halfway out the door. She comes back and cuddles me close. At first, I push her away, not so forgiving of what she let happen to me, but her scent of aloe and lavender comforts me.
“I know you’ve had a rough evening, Pixie, and I’m so sorry about that. My friends aren’t the best with cats, you know.” She smiles. “But tomorrow night, I promise you that we’ll spend the night together. You can sleep in my bed, and we’ll snuggle together, okay?” Sleeping in Olivia’s bed? That’s a huge treat! I purr and rub against her. “I take that as a yes, right?” I purr even louder.
“Olivia? Where are you?” a voice yells.
“Okay, gotta go, Pixie. I love you.” She blows me a kiss and heads downstairs.
"Sandy's Place," by Anna Rosini, 12
“Sandy! Dinnertime!” My subjects call out to me. I decide that the meal will be eaten, just not now. I whisk the top of my tail back and forth. The wind ripples my fur as it cuts through the screens. Suddenly, a swift, gray blur cuts across my yard. It is hard to make out the shape because my day vision is bad. Once the moon makes its journey to the top of the night sky, my adventure begins. Swiftly, I creep down from my perch and go to my dinner, my tail swooshing as I walk. As I stroll into my den, I see what my chefs have prepared. Ah, yuck. Juicy kitten chow jamboree. It always tastes the same no matter what it looks like, bland, nasty and absolutely disgusting. It’s only had a change in flavor once, and that was when I turned one. I pace the perimeter of my realm to make sure that there are no intruders. I take a quick peak outside of my cat door to listen for any calls from my neighboring realms. Eventually, as all is tranquil, I prance my way across my abode and strut up the steps to my subjects quarters where they sleep. Even though they are inferior to me, their nest is still warmer, and their faces are the nicest nest ever known to cat. I decide to nest in between my subjects with a good position to crawl onto one of their faces in the middle of the night. My eyelids slowly drift away, and I start to receive the final hours of my daily sleep.
I wake up near the crack of dawn. I step out of my position and realize that one of my subjects has escaped the realm. Sometimes they leave early to go shopping. Hopefully, they don’t buy me a cat sweater. Shopping for attire to make me wear is one of their favorite pastimes. Then, I make my way downstairs and step outside my realm. As the sun is just beginning to rise, I decide to hunt. Eating is not something that I see my subjects do often, so to keep them up to the highest standard, I bring them critters once a day for their meal. This time, I catch a chipmunk. I saunter up the stairs and slip through the cat door back inside. What is inside? No, I swear, if that is a… I drop my subjects meal. They don’t need to eat. Not after what they did to me just now.
“Hisssss,” my cry echoes across the room. I dash over and attack the savage brute. She rolls over, showing me her tender belly. Has this dog no fighting skills? It’s large frame, black fur with brown spots, and nothing for a tail shocks me!
“Sadie, come here girl!,” echoes through my brain over and over. Two main thoughts come to mind. One, all major decisions in this house must be run by me. Two, Sadie could not sound more similar to Sandy. They brought a dog into my realm and its name is similar to my name! This idiotic dog will rush over whenever my subjects request my attention.
“Let’s get one thing straight around here. I. Am. The. Boss.” I snarl at Sadie. “Anyway,” this is taking me all my might to meow, “I think we started off on the wrong paw. I am Sandy. I am a cat. I am your le-a-der.” I say slowly to make sure she is understanding.
“Okay, let’s be best friends!” Sadie says bouncing up and down. I cringe, sheath my claws, and turn my back trying to decide what to do now that this beast has entered my kingdom. I am fully prepared with my artificial friending speech when she asks me, “Are you okay?”
I open my mouth to speak and then close it again, what to say, what to say! I want to meow “No I am not okay because a dog, has entered my realm”. I decide to just go with it, turn around, purr and say, “Yes, I am okay, Sadie. I wholeheartedly accept your friendship proposition.” Sadie tilts her head to the side as a motion of misunderstanding. Then I ask, “How do we do this?” Once again, she tilts her head to the side. Not much of a talker.
Then, Sadie hands me one of her toys, a fluffy blue dog. I don’t know what to do with it so I bat it away out of sight. Sadie then fumbles after it, vanishing from my view, and finally, she is gone. Suddenly, she comes back with the toy and drops in at my paws. So I repeat my action and she continues bounding after this toy. What has my realm turned into? Thankfully, my subjects come in, tie her to a rope and lead her outside. It’s like my subjects know what I want before I can order them to do it. Finally, my realm is now my realm. Time to start to fill up my 13 hours of daily sleep with a cat nap. Although my sleep comes, it is not very restful. I dream about Sadie taking over my realm and sending me back to the shelter. My paws move as I fight Sadie in my dream. Once I wake up, I realize it was just a nightmare. No dog could ever take over my realm.
Once the sun sets again I depart for a hunt. For now, I have an extra mouth under my power to feed. Unlike this morning, this time, I enter the house with a robin. It put up a struggle and tried to fly away, but I quickly ended its sufferings. Dropping it at the door for my subjects, I walk inside with my cat impulses satisfied. I meander into my den, and see the same disgusting food my subjects have prepared for me again today. It is revolting, but still, I eat it. To make my taste buds happy, I decide to go out for a personal hunt, but when I reach the door, I find that the bird is still there. I guess my subjects and Sadie are not hungry. I do not want to waste a perfectly good bird, so I eat it and save my hunting for tomorrow morning. The robin mixes in my mouth and tastes delicious, definitely better than the food my subjects prepare!
At night when I enter my subjects quarters, I find something different. Sadie is in my spot. My ginger fur flares at the sight of her. Then, I realize that I have to become friends with this dog to have peace in my realm . I relax my frame and casually saunter up to the bed.
“Excuse me, but this is my spot.” I explain to Sadie.
“Why can’t we share?” she asks, her voice full of innocence. I need to make her a friend, so I must accept this request.
“Good point, Sadie,” I encourage. I climb carefully over my subject and nestle between her legs. Ahh, this is the warmest spot ever. I relax into the black fur of her gigantic frame. Maybe she won’t be such a bad companion. After all, it will always be Sandy’s place, but maybe, just maybe, she could be the heir to my throne. (Ha, you thought I was going to say we will rule together. Nope, never happening. If you haven’t already learned, cats are superior.)
"Fighting Together," by Audrey Tzeng, 11
I whimper and whine, but Master doesn’t seem to hear me. “Outside! Play!” I bark hopefully, standing at the door, my favorite frisbee in my mouth, my tail wagging vigorously. I scratch the door for emphasis and arrange my face so that I look properly adorable. Not every dog can make just the right face. Then I turn to him, a questioning, pleading look in my eyes.
Master looks over, but he doesn’t laugh as he used to. “I’m sorry, Doodle,” he sighs. He has his hand over his forehead and is hunched in his chair. Maybe he has a headache? I could help him. “I’m just too tired,” he continues.
I let my tail droop. There will be no playing today. Yet I am worried about Master, not myself. So often he spends time at his big screen with the little buttons that go clickety-clack, sitting motionless for hours on end, not saying a word. How can he stay so still? But I see it all the time now, I see his shoulders slump, I see wrinkles etched into his face that were never there before, and he never has much energy or time now. Or sometimes he is tense and can’t even sleep. Where is Master, Master who would always play with me? Something has changed, and I am worried about him.
“I can heal you,” I yelp hopefully, wagging again, an enticing look on my face now. I would do anything, anything to make Master be the way he used to be. To get back the cheerful, smiling Master, not the tired, weary one. I would do anything to hear the sound of his laugh again.
Master gives me a fond but tired smile. “You’re the best, Doodle.” He stands and stretches, then sits down again. “I seem to have no energy these days,” he remarks quietly.
“You are lonely?” I question.
Suddenly, Master’s tiny screen starts ringing and vibrating. He holds up his finger. “Hang on, Doodle. I’ve got an important call to answer,” he says, darting over and picking up the tiny screen. My tail droops and I slink out of the room. Gone are the days where Master and I could frolic forever. It seemed we did not have a care in the world then. But now, everything has changed.
Master’s voice jolts me back to the present. “Hello?” he answers, holding the tiny screen to his ear. I’ve always wondered why he does that. It must hurt to put such a loud device so close to his ear. He listens, then says in a flat, defeated voice, “Oh, okay.”
Master puts down the tiny screen and slumps in his chair. “What did you think the call was going to be? Time off from work?” he mutters bitterly to himself. “Don’t get your hopes up, you fool. All it brings is pain.” He sees me wandering into the room and whispers to me, petting my soft head, “What will I do, Doodle? What will I do? I don’t know if I can cope. I’m scared.”
“Don’t be scared,” I bark. “I am here.” I wish he could understand, but then, maybe he will. Master and I seem to understand each other perfectly sometimes, no matter the fact that we can’t speak to each other. The barrier between dog and man has never stopped us.
He smiles at me sadly, but with affection. He sighs. “Oh, Doodle. My good friend Doodle. You’re probably the most humble, goodhearted being I’ll ever meet or have met. I wish I was like you. Or I wish I could just forget all of this and walk away. But I can’t. And sometimes, even the strongest pair alone are not enough.” A little of my heart crumbles away to see the hopelessness in his eyes.
* * * * *
The next day, Master and I go on a walk. I’m especially happy to be outside. It’s the first time in days I’ve been out for more than 2 or 3 minutes. I love sniffing all the exciting smells, chasing the butterflies, and feeling the warm sun on my back. The great outdoors are the most wonderful place, in my opinion. I notice that they’re aren’t as many people out as normal, however. When I spot a little girl in a stroller and her mother pushing her, I am very excited. I love being petted! The little girl reaches for me, crying, “Doggie!”
I close my eyes, wagging my tail and awaiting the blissful sensation of soft hands against my fur. It doesn’t come. My eyes snap open in surprise. What I see is the mother scolding her little daughter and pulling away from us! “Keep away. Dirty doggie,” she scolds the infant, snatching its hands and inspecting them with scrutinizing eyes.
I strain towards the woman and her daughter, wagging and barking hopefully, but she jerks away and looks at me like I’m something she found off the street. Like I’m some carrier of a terrible disease, a plague on society. She looks at me with disgust. It’s a feeling I’ve never seen before, and I at once feel a swirl of emotions: confusion, anger, fear, and hurt. Everyone is always happy to see me. What is wrong? What is going on?
Wheeling the little girl away and restraining her from reaching out, she snaps at Master,
“What do you think you’re doing? You keep your dog away! Can’t you see you’re scaring my daughter?” But the little girl was reaching for me, I think. And why did she speak like that to
Master? I am indignant and hurt and confused for him, too. And why can the little girl not pet me? Through it all, I keep pulling towards them. I understand little, but I know one thing: Master did not deserve those angry words. I begin to growl at the woman.
Suddenly, I feel a tug around my throat. I look up. Master is pulling me away from them!
“I am so sorry. I don’t know what’s gotten into him. He’s normally super gentle,” he says to the woman quickly and apologetically. His face is embarrassed.
I yelp and bark. Why aren’t they petting me? Why did the woman pull away and why did Master pull me away? Why was she being mean to Master? Why did she look at me like that? I protest, barking and straining towards the little girl. But Master’s strong hands pull me away.
“No, Doodle,” he says firmly.
I stop struggling, partly because the woman and the child are in the distance, but mostly because I’m shocked. Master has never spoken to me like this. Not even when he was teaching me proper behavior did he even use that voice. He never needed to. I’m stung. Who have I become? Why did Master speak like that? I look up Master with a new perspective: That of a creature who’s experienced anger. For the rest of the walk, whenever we see a person, we cross the street. I don’t understand. I want to cry.
* * * * *
At home, Master sits me down. When I have questions, Master gives me answers. So I watch him expectantly, and he knows I am waiting for an answer. But I am also waiting for an explanation. Why did he speak to me like that?
Master sighs. He pets my head softly and murmurs, “Oh, Doodle. I wish you could make you understand. I wish you could speak.”
I am silent, waiting.
Master chuckles, then heaves a deep breath. “Doodle,” he begins, “I know you’ve sensed a change. I know I haven’t been able to play often, and I’m more tired lately and seemed stressed.”
I am silent.
“I always knew you were a special dog,” Master continues. “And what just happened back there- it’s part of all this mess that the world’s in. I’m sorry I treated you like that. Will you forgive me?”
I look into Master’s kind green eyes, and all of my anger and hurt melts away, along with a little bit of my heart. How can I be angry at good Master? He’s shown me nothing but kindness since when he found me on the side of the street, a dirty, lost, exhausted and hungry puppy. “I will always forgive you,” I say.
Master closes his eyes. “I had no right to treat you like that, Doodle, but I made a mistake,” he whispers, petting my soft fur. “I’m sorry. I hope we can move past it.”
“Of course,” I bark quickly.
Master's smile is the same tired one. Then he becomes serious. “But I need you especially now, Doodle. We will need each other. Because a terrible time is coming. You see, Doodle-” Here he breaks off. “Oh, how can I explain to you! A dog off all beings!” he cries, throwing his hands into the air. I jump back in surprise at his sudden rising, then lean back, perplexed.
“Oh no, Doodle, you’re a perfect companion. I really couldn’t wish for more than a perfect representation of man’s best friend,” he assures me. He has taken on a wild air, pacing the room and talking quickly. I get the feeling that he is almost talking to himself, getting something over with. “But sometimes, there are barriers. You can’t speak, for example, although you have an uncanny way of seeming to understand me sometimes. Can you speak?”
“I would learn if you wished me to,” I bark, eager to show my devotion, although I am utterly lost.
He doesn’t seem to hear me, but continues on. “And of course, I should be content with man’s best friend. After all, why is it called man’s best friend? And I am content, or I should be. Normally I always was. What is happening to me?” He laughs nervously, I am scared. He is almost ranting, and I’ve never seen it before.
“Please, I don’t understand.” I let out barks in a flurry of confusion and sit back. If only he could understand me.
But he does. He seems to deflate, and sits in a chair. After a little, his chest still heaving, he says quietly, “These are tough times, Doodle. But we have each other, you and I, and now I rest assured that is enough. It’s enough.” He closes his eyes briefly and then reopens them. “I won’t try to explain, Doodle. But the world is in chaos, and I’m scared. I’m scared,” he tells me.
“It’s okay to be scared,” I bark back softly. “I am, sometimes.” I’m proud of myself for admitting it, even if maybe he can’t understand.
Master runs his hand through my silky fur and closes his eyes again. A genuine smile slowly stretches over his entire face: not a tired one, not a forced, rushed one. A real, true smile that comes when you just want to savor the moment.
“Oh, Doodle,” breathes Master. “There’s no companion like you.”
I close my eyes too, it is bliss. “Don’t worry, Master. I am here for you,” I say. “I am here.”
And we, man and dog, man and his best friend, watch the sun slowly sink in the west. Together.
"Common Sense (of Felines)," by Ella Yamamura, 12
"A Pup's Lens," by Sophie Yu, 12
A day yawns
Getting ready to tuck it’s covers
The sun sleeps
Its shift over
The moon awakens
new ruler
Of the obsidian sky
I stick my paws in the wrinkling bag
Of cheese puffs
Magical orbs that make
The best midnight snack
I sneak back to my bed
A trail of cheesy heaven
Following me
I play and chew
On my old toy
Stamped with bite marks
That were engraved
Over many, many
Long, waning years
I watch the clouds
So thin, nearly transparent
Like the sprinkler
On fresh,early mornings
Droplets greet
The lilacs and lilies
That happily nod their heads
To the wind’s airborne tune
I look at the clock
Unable to read it
I cock my head to the side
I’m still unable to read it
Like there are dusty glasses
Blocking my view
I lay down on my bed
Finally tired from an unending day
Of carrot sticks
And velvet roses in the garden
Of the hose
Flooding my entire body
Swishing through my chocolate fur
And of laughing endlessly
Barking and licking
Multiple smiling faces.
This is my lens
A lens that takes me
to unimaginable places
It’s a lens called
Home
Allie Dollar, 11
Monticello, FL
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