N is for Need


He waited by the mailbox for the lady to appear.  Being polite he waited for the invitation to approach the step where  the lady  placed an offering for him. The walk up the sidewalk was slow, due his right hip that seemed to always be more painful in the morning. He was grateful for any food, but this morning there were several bits of sausage and a bit of  pancake with syrup covering it.  He devoured the morsels hungrily, and consumed the offered container of water.  He sat back and looked at the lady.

He had come to Bluejay Lane three days hence, very tired and sore from his long journey. The man in the yellow truck had dropped him off in the park across the street.  Nights he slept in the park. Days he kept to the shadows as he hunted for food.  He remembered that once he had shared a comfortable house with his family. But one night his town was destroyed by a tornado.  His home and the people he should have protected were gone.  He could never go back.

The lady in her worn housecoat had been his savior.  She had left food the first two mornings , stepping back inside the screen door.  She was a  bit frightened by his appearance.  He obviously had not bathed in some time and everything about him spoke trouble.  But the eyes.  Those soulful eyes that spoke more than any  words. She had to help him.

This morning she waited at the top step, and surprising even herself, she held the screen open for him, an invitation to come inside.

It was confusing to him at first.  But she said to come on in.  He noticed the clean pine-sol smell mixed with the linger scent of breakfast, and he thought this could be home.  But he didn’t dare hope.  There was a rocking chair in the living room where she sat down.  He hesitatated, but she patted her knee and he went slowly to her.  She noticed then his collar with a small envelope attatched,  Inside was his name, and though the ink had smeared, so she couldn’t read the address, but she did make out Oklahoma.

Disregarding dirt and all she leaned down and hugged him.  Would you like to stay here with me, Bob?  He answered with a happy wag of his tail.

Daily Prompt:You have 20 minutes to write a post that includes the words mailbox, bluejay, plate, syrup, and ink. And one more detail… the story must include a dog named Bob

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