I'm extending the life of the last photo, as there were no submissions this week, including I did not manage to complete one either. No excuses, I simply allowed life to get in the way. So same photo for the week of November 15th thru November 22nd.

Photo for week of November 2nd through November November 8th!
Let the writing begin!

Remember to send submissions to kimbperzpen@gmail.com by 5pm on Friday November 8th and all stories submitted will be posted Friday evening for your enjoyment.
~Kim

A reminder of the photo for week of October 26th thru November 1st

I will say that I had every intention of writing a story this week, but life interrupted my plans! I usually write on Thursday night, but instead spent the evening in the ER after getting T boned in my car on the way home from work. My aches and pains are my excuse for not writing this week...sad but true. Thankfully I have a new and wonderful author jointing my blog this week! I hope you all enjoy her as much as I do!

You Rescued Me

“Sweet boy, you will never get anywhere in life with that face.”

Augie continued to stare at me adoringly, tongue lolling out of the side of his mouth.

I chuckled and ruffled his fur. “It’s a good thing you’re a dog and don’t need ambitions.”

He huffed at me, proceeding to dive off the couch and land face-first. After he managed to compose himself, he bolted in the direction of the sliding glass door in the kitchen, yipping at some creature outside. I couldn’t keep myself from laughing as I heard the scrabbling of his claws as he slid around the corner on the wood floor. This dog was just rife with entertainment value.

As often as I’ve wished he was a little less energetic, while tidying a tipped trashcan or gathering the disintegrated bits of yet another toy, Augie has been the steadiest factor in my life over the last few years.

When we were brought together, we were both battered and bruised. Since stumbling out of the apartment after yet another of my boyfriend’s violent rages, I had wandered town for several hours before finding myself outside the local dog shelter. I couldn’t help going through the door, hoping to get some comfort from the animals inside.

But there was no comfort. All around me, I saw loneliness, pain, abandonment, hopelessness. Maybe I belonged here; the only difference between these poor creatures and me being that I chose this. I slumped against a kennel and put my head in my hands.

I felt a claw catch on my shirt as the occupant of the kennel behind me pawed at the bars. I turned, wiping the tears from my cheeks. The dog sat on its haunches and cocked its head at me; I was instantly flooded with sympathy. His left ear was split at the top and a dark scar snaked from his eye to the tip of his nose. His face and body were missing fur in places he had been beaten, and his tail was crooked from suffering a previous break. He couldn’t have been more than a year old.

As I perused his condition, I knew where we would be going from here.

Half an hour later I walked out of there, determination in my step, head held high, holding my new companion in my arms. As I headed away from the shelter, putting distance between me and the cursed apartment, I turned my back on everything I knew. Wherever the dog and I would end up, I vowed it would be better than from where we came.

I smiled as I listened to my dog do his hyper, pacing dance at the door, challenging the outside world. We were survivors, him and I. We had beaten our demons and were now living it up in the sunshine.

All of a sudden, there was a crash. I shook my head as I got off the couch to inspect the damage. Augie had knocked over the chair that I keep my used grocery bags on and one had landed squarely over his head. He was dashing in mad circles, trying to get rid of the thing. I picked him up and pulled the bag off.

That’s not a bad look for you,” I joked.

Still hefting him under my arm, I poked two eye holes and a hole for his nose in the bag. I gently coaxed him to put his head back through and put him on the floor.

“Well, it’s almost Halloween, right? Now we won’t have to buy you a costume!” I crowed.

By Rachel Christine Atchley