Blueberry
By Jane Hyphen
- 1171 reads
‘She’s the cutest puppy I’ve ever seen.’
‘I know, mum.’ Thomas nodded his head, there were tears in his eyes and an emotional rosy flush across his cheeks. ‘I can’t believe she’s mine.’
‘The colour, what do you call that? She’s like a silver coin or maybe….a thundercloud. Hey Thomas, I’ve just thought of something, why don’t you call her Storm?’
‘Her coat is classified as blue, mum, and Ben and I have already named her.’
‘Oh…’
‘Yes, we’re calling her Blueberry.’
Sandra laughed. ‘Aw that’s so sweet, a bit of a mouthful but sweet. I suppose you can shorten it to Blue. What breed is she again?’
‘They weren’t a hundred percent sure at the rescue centre,’ Thomas shrugged, ‘definitely Staffy, some lab in there, some mastiff too. She’s only eight weeks, it can be hard to tell at this age.’
‘Mastiff, isn’t that enormous?’
‘It’s stocky but gentle, mum, it’s a really gentle breed but very loyal. Don’t forget, I’ve been researching dog breeds for years.’
Sandra laughed. ‘I know. You’ve been dog mad since you were tiny.’
‘And you never let me have one. I had to wait until I was bloody twenty seven and got my own place!’
‘Thomas, we’ve been through this, me and your dad were far too busy, there was no work from home in those days. Anyway,’ she shook her head, ‘you’ve got one now so that’s it.’
The shiny little puppy wriggled in Thomas’s slender white arms, he shifted on his feet and lifted her from underneath, snaffling her nose up against his. After sending his mother on a small but picturesque guilt trip, he decided it was the perfect opportunity to remind her of a favour she had earlier promised him. ‘So you’re still alright to come and look after her when we go to South Africa?’
‘Yes, yes I reckon so, it’s November isn’t it. As long as your sister doesn’t need me for childcare.’
‘What? You’ve already agreed to it, mum, you’re always babysitting for Lorna! The one time I ask you for something and now you’re making excuses. There’s no way we’ll put her in kennels, no way, we’ll cancel the holiday if you can’t do it. Blueberry is not going in kennels!’
‘I’m not making excuses Thomas,’ Sandra sighed, ‘I want to help you but I’m afraid, children are more important than dogs.’
Thomas looked his mother straight in the eyes and said, ‘Mum, she is our child, to Ben and I, this dog is as precious as any child.’
Sandra appeared shocked and then wanted to laugh but she stifled it. She could see how important this pet was to her son so she nodded her head, ‘I promise I will come and look after her in November.’ She placed her hand on the puppy’s head and patted it, ‘We’ll have fun won’t we….Blueberry.’
Thomas looked relieved. Several months passed. Blueberry grew big, then bigger, her eyes changed from blue to a deep fiery shade of amber, she developed muscles and a stubborn temperament and was thoroughly loved and indulged. Sandra had barely seen the dog although she’d seen many photos of Blueberry. She viewed the canine as more of an object of curiosity than an actual live creature.
November arrived and Sandra reluctantly packed a suitcase and made the thirty mile journey by car to the house her son shared with his partner, arriving just in time to see them leave to take a taxi to the airport.
‘You’re cutting it a bit fine mum!’
‘Well, your dad’s got to take your sister’s kids to school all on his own. He’s very stressed Thomas.’
Thomas and Ben glanced at each other and rolled their eyes. ‘Blueberry has been around the block, done her business and had her breakfast. She’ll need another walk at four, at least an hour, then she has her raw food, it’s all in the freezer, remember to take it out two hours before. Oh and she sleeps on our bed by the way.’
‘Where am I sleeping?’
‘Oh you can sleep on the bed with her or in the little room, it’s a single bed though.’ Thomas paused, frowned and then threw his arms in the air. ‘Oh, you’ll sort it out,’ he huffed as he dragged his large suitcase. 'I can't wait to say goodbye to these cloudy skies.'
‘My gosh, Thomas, she's enormous!’
Sandra felt uncomfortable in her son’s house. The place was decorated in a minimalist style, she thought of it as unhomely and it smelled strange. She felt old fashioned and intimidated. For a moment she forgot about Blueberry as she walked from room to room being thoroughly nosy. It was only when she went to sit on the sofa that she noticed the dog stretched out, taking up the entire seat area and fixing her with a hard stare.
‘Come on, get down,’ she said, gesturing with her hand but Blueberry only lifted her massive head, raised her floppy ears and froze.
‘Down!’ Sandra shouted but she found herself fearful now, the dog seemed to be looking right into her soul. ‘Down now!’ she said but her voice cracked slightly.
There was a strange sound, a low, vibrational humm. It took her a few seconds to realise that it was coming from Blueberry. The dog was growling at her.
The standoff was broken by the sound of Sandra’s mobile phone ringing from her handbag in the hallway but as she moved to go and answer it, Blueberry leapt off the sofa and blocked her passage and she was snarling now, baring teeth.
Terrified, Sandra took a step backwards, put her hands up as if under arrest and muttered, ‘It’s okay Blueberry, be a good girl now. If we’re to get along, you’ll need to respect Grandma. Now get in the kitchen you, get away!’ She felt her heart racing as Blueberry’s fiery eyes fixed her in place.
She took a deep breath and tried to move again towards the hall although her phone had ceased ringing now. The dog appeared to be raging now, it lunged at her, baring teeth, foaming at the mouth. Sandra felt the sharp end of Blueberry’s canines scraping the flesh on the legs, she backed herself towards the door to the office. She screamed at the dog to get off and was just able to scramble through the door, shutting it behind her and shoving a chair up against it.
The office was tiny, neatly set out with a laptop, a silver lamp and a small window which didn’t open fully. Sandra was aware that there was no phone, no water and if she shouted, perhaps nobody would hear her or react. From behind the door she heard the low growl of Blueberry and saw the cast of her huge shadow in the small gap beneath it, waiting. She felt something wet on her shin and looked down to see a small patch of blood blotting through her trousers. ‘Oh shit,’ she whispered and placed her hands together in prayer.
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Comments
What a chilling ending Jane.
What a chilling ending Jane. It had me wondering if there was a continuation to this story, I would love to know how she got out of the predicament.
Jenny.
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Brilliant Inspiration Point
Brilliant Inspiration Point response Jane, thank you - how terrifying - the build-up is like one of those pictures where you have to spot all the mistakes which will lead to a house fire
Have you seen the reading event announcement? I do hope you can come - will will squeeze you in if necessary
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Made me think of Stephen King
Made me think of Stephen King's "Cujo". I must admit, I didn't see that twist coming which is always the sign of good writing. Adriotly done, Jane. Really enjoyed. Paul
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Blueberry turns. I like it.
Blueberry turns. I like it. Dogs are not children, indeed.
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So pleased you decided to
So pleased you decided to continue this.
Blueberry is our Pick of the Day. Please share.
Read Part 2 https://www.abctales.com/story/jane-hyphen/blueberry-part-two
Image is from Pixabay https://pixabay.com/photos/dog-great-dane-old-animal-pet-2514968/
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Oh brilliant - and there's a
Oh brilliant - and there's a part two to it! Congratulations on the golden cherries - off to read what happens next (with more than a little trepidation)
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A couple of years ago my
A couple of years ago my youngest daughter, now grown up (apparently), said this to me...
'You lied to me Dad!
When I was little and living with you and I asked if we could get a dog you always said that I could have a dog as soon as I'm grown up and living in a place of my own.
Well now I am grown up and I'm living in a place of my own but my partner said I can't have a dog because we live in a flat and we haven't got a garden.'
So it continues to be all my fault. Perhaps if she read your piece of writing she would change her mind.
Incidentally, I live elsewhere now and I have not one but two dogs of my own, just to rub salt into her wounds.
Turlough
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