Jump to content
  • Join Gay Authors

    Join us for free and follow your favorite authors and stories.

    DomLuka
  • Author
  • 1,955 Words
  • 4,497 Views
  • 7 Comments
Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Valentines Day Goes to the Dog - 1. Chapter 1

Pressure. Last year, that’s what Valentine’s Day was for. A day where unnecessary pressure intruded upon my otherwise peaceful existence. I hated Valentine’s Day. This was because there was, like, some unjust law that I was supposed to be with someone. To have a companion. How unfair was that? I mean, seriously; what if I didn’t want a companion? What if I just wanted to say to the cats with it? Well, I suppose I had that right, but I was too self-conscious to walk around on Valentine’s Day all by my little lonesome. Couldn’t happen. I was way too cute for that, and I was also one of those pathetic creatures that couldn’t even walk into the grocery store on February fourteenth without someone that I’d want to kiss because I assumed that everyone would look at me; and that they would assume that I was alone because nobody loved me.

And I loved the grocery store! If I got there early enough, Justin in the deli department would be waiting for me with all sorts of treats that had expired the day before. They say you shouldn’t eat that stuff, but if it’s meat, I say it’s good until it’s green. Not that I can see green, but the smell always tells me when it’s there. And I had a stomach of steel, so it didn’t make much of a difference to me. Plus, if you run around as much as I do, you don’t have to worry about any of those extra calories flabbing up all that muscle that the ladies like. And Justin was a great guy, too, not really bad to look at if you like the tall, two-legged type that had five fingers on both hands. He always called me King, that charmer. And he smelled great! Chopping all that meat all day. Turkey and sausage and those thick slices of roast beef that would melt in my mouth before I could chew it up! And all I had to do to get it was listen to him talk.

Justin liked to talk. More than my mother used to when she’d complain about how my dad had run off and left her with six pups to keep fed. Only, Justin didn’t have any pups. Justin liked to talk about his boyfriend, Mark. Loooser! If you asked me, Mark didn’t know a good thing when he had it--someone to love you and scratch behind your ears and feed you all of that great meat! Justin was the perfect man. But nothing he ever did was good enough for Mark. I always told him that he should give up this boyfriend thing and find a nice fat lady who loved sausage the way that I loved sausage. Wouldn’t be that hard. Women were always asking Justin for meat when he wasn’t giving it to me, and most of them had five fingers on both hands, too. I was pretty sure he liked that sort of thing. But, he never listened and one morning when I met Justin for our usual talk-for-treats meeting he told me all about how Mark had left him. That bastard. I told Justin that Mark had better find a new grocery store. I had a few nice sharp teeth left even if I was thirteen years old, and I knew how to use them. I’d do it for Justin. But, I don’t think he heard me. The poor guy had malfunctioning eyes that day, and couldn’t get them to stop leaking. Talk about bad luck.

But, enough about that. More about me, and Valentine’s Day. I knew how this thing worked. It was the one day of the year when it was unacceptable to be alone. I’d learned about it a long time ago, when I lived with Lily Pepmire, before she moved away and forgot to take me with her. I was her fifteenth-birthday present, but we never really got along. She liked to eat things like lettuce and carrots. But she was really smart, according to her parents, and Lily knew all about Valentine’s Day. According to her, you’d get laughed at on Valentine’s Day if you didn’t have someone to love you. Usually I got by with whoever kept me chained up in their backyard, but this year I was all alone and on a time crunch. Two more days to go and I needed to pull out all the stops if I wanted to avoid the horror of not having anyone to walk with. But I was getting too old for this crap, and things just weren’t as easy as they used to be. Sure, I felt like I was in the prime of my life. I was in shape, and had a nice shiny coat, but wagging my tail at the first friendly face that came along just didn’t work the way it used to.

I asked Justin if he wanted to spend Valentine’s Day with me. He was lonely, I was lonely. He had meat, I had a stomach. A perfect match, I thought. But then he announced that he was flying to see his sister after he finished working with the meat on Valentine’s Day. I thought that was hilarious and made him promise to wait to grow those wings until I was around to see it. Two-leggeds are so weird. Forget the wings, I say. Grow a tail, at least then you have something to chase.

With Justin no longer an option, I felt pretty pressured, and pressure isn’t supposed to be something that someone who liked to clean his tail with his tongue was supposed to feel. I was pretty sure that I’d have to hide the whole day in my little box on Sixth Street with no sausage or turkey or ham... and I’d be all alone. Alone in a box. Wouldn’t even be able to take myself for a walk without someone figuring out that I was too old to find someone to love me.

But then I met Vince. Right on time, too. It was the day before Valentine’s Day and I’d given up on looking for what I needed in the park. Too many mothers there, shooing me away from their children. Do you have any idea how rude it is to point out that someone has fleas? Hey, Lady, I didn’t make fun of that cat-reeking contraption on your head that you call hair, so leave the fleas out of it, okay?

Okay. Back to Vince. I met him in the big park on the way home from the little park. You know the one. That place they call a cemetery. The big green field where people were always gathering in groups, when their eyes malfunctioned, dressing in black and burying those long, wooden boxes that looked like they could hold hundreds of bones. I tried to dig one up once, but a man with a shovel objected to it and I walked around dizzy for weeks after the encounter.

Vince was alone in his big black coat. He was standing in front of one of those stone bird hangouts. This one had a funny little picture of a two-legged with wings on it, and made me think of Justin. Vince wasn’t like Justin. Vince didn’t wait for someone like me to come before he started talking. He was already talking to himself. A little strange, I thought, but hey, I’m not one to judge.

We hit it off pretty good. He said he was there to see his dad. Vince said that he and his dad fought a lot, and he was there to make peace. I guess his dad was like mine, because he never showed up. Vince didn’t seem too surprised by this.

Vince was really good at scratching my ears, and he laughed when I showed him how you’re supposed to chase your tail. I’ll bet he wished he had one. I always make it look like so much fun. I told him all about Valentine’s Day, and asked if he wanted to go for a walk with me tomorrow. He said that if I was going to hang around him, I’d have to clean up some, but he didn’t mention the fleas, so I didn’t give him too much trouble when he took me home and gave me a bath. Not until he used that smelly stuff that burned my eyes. Then, I dragged him into the tub with me to see how he liked it. I accepted his apology over a roast-beef sandwich, and he said I could sleep on a blanket next to his bed for the night, and I agreed not to pee on his floor.

Then it was Valentine’s Day, and I was all set to show off my new friend. He wouldn’t share his eggs with me, though, but that’s okay because he said we were going to the grocery store to get me my own food. I told him I loved the grocery store! I told him to hurry, because it was still early, and maybe I’d be able to see Justin before he took up bird imitation. We went outside and Vince tried to put me in the back of the truck that he’d driven me home in the day before, but I already knew how to get there and I told him so. Wow! Vince could run. He almost kept up with me the whole way, too! I preferred the way that Justin called me King, but at least when Vince was shouting Damn Dog! behind me everyone knew we were together.

I saw Justin right before I crossed the big street. Usually I went around it, but those cars were such a nuisance. Today, though, I felt great. I couldn’t wait to show Vince to Justin, and I could already smell plenty of that great roast beef on the wind. Justin smiled when he saw me coming. I’ll bet he thought I wasn’t coming. It had taken forever to get Vince out the door, and I was a little late.

I ran faster when I saw the bag of meat--perfect, wonderful meat--in Jason’s hand. But this time, I never got to taste it as I heard the blaring sound of a horn, and everything went black.

....................................

Sausage. This year, Valentine’s Day was about sausage and turkey and roast beef. It’s what was in my bowl when I woke up this morning, like it was in my bowl when I woke up last year and couldn’t move my legs, and they made me wear that embarrassing ring around my head that prevented me from licking myself. This year, that’s gone, and my legs work just fine. This year, I’m going for a walk with my two best friends, Justin and Vince.

We all live in Vince’s house now. Sometimes Justin comes to the cemetery with Vince and me to wait for his dad, and Vince always likes it when Justin brings home meat from the deli. Justin feeds me, and Vince likes to scratch me behind the ears. He does it all the time, now that the fleas are gone. I’m still trying to teach both of them how to chase their tails.

I gave up my box on Sixth Street, and as long as they don’t put me on a chain, I won’t pee on their floor. I have my own bed by the front door. I won’t sleep where Justin and Vince sleep. I’m not as young as I used to be, I like to sleep, and they’d keep me up all night with all their strange noises.

Yeah... and they call me an animal.

Copyright © 2010 DomLuka; All Rights Reserved.
  • Like 10
  • Love 1
  • Haha 1
Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
You are not currently following this author. Be sure to follow to keep up to date with new stories they post.

Recommended Comments

Chapter Comments

View Guidelines

Create an account or sign in to comment

You need to be a member in order to leave a comment

Create an account

Sign up for a new account in our community. It's easy!

Register a new account

Sign in

Already have an account? Sign in here.

Sign In Now


  • Newsletter

    Sign Up and get an occasional Newsletter.  Fill out your profile with favorite genres and say yes to genre news to get the monthly update for your favorite genres.

    Sign Up
×
×
  • Create New...