Thread: The Heat, the Cold Moon, and the Madness (small edit )

Moonlight illuminates the bare yard casting all in winter’s cold light. My breath clouds before me. I shiver in my corduroy jacket and pull the hood tight at my chin. It's two o'clock in the morning and here I stand in my backyard, flashlight in hand, while Bell, a bluetick coonhound, searches for the perfect spot to pee.

There seems to be no limit to what you will do for your children and your pets. Bell is a case in point. I've recently inherited her from my son (another case in point) who has moved to an apartment that doesn't allow pets. I’ve agreed to take her in, along with two motorcycles and various other things he has no room for now that he's downsized from a house. The poor dog is in heat, and my son, who never got around to having her fixed, is at home, asleep in his warm bed. While I am here, playing jailer to her prisoner. She is being kept in her crate for the duration of this heat, only let out to relieve herself, and for supervised playtime with the 'gang'.

The gang consists of Rosie, a yellow lab, whom I had spayed when still a pup; Roscoe, a large black lab; and Diesel, a border collie, both males; still intact. These last two are very interested in the pee spot Bell has left behind. They both have a good long smell at it, then promptly pee on it themselves.

Bell is acting quite the hussy. Playfully pouncing on Diesel, batting him with her paws, enticing him to chase her. When he complies, she promptly presents her rear end for his inspection. Of course, he obliges. She seems to have chosen him as her potential mate, passing over Roscoe, for whatever reasons a female dog may have.

“Yes, he is a handsome fellow Miss Bell, all flash and dash, but I fear he’s a love ‘em and leave ‘em type,” I tell her. “He’s obsessed with his Frisbee, and that’s a fact.”

It is a delicate line to walk, allowing the play time, but discouraging any overtures of amour. Roscoe is interested, but makes no attempt to play with her. He skirts the perimeters of the yard, a large dark shadow, casting an even larger shadow in the beam of my flashlight.

My feet are beginning to numb, shoved into a pair of ariat boots that I hadn't bothered to zip.

"Come along Bell, playtime is over," I tell her quietly.

She pretends not to hear me, though I see her ear flick in my direction. She continues to prance- play- entice, tearing wildly around the yard with joyful abandon and a wanton, come hither air about her.

Though I yearn for the comfort of my bed, and the warmth of my husband there, I allow her five more minutes before taking her collar and leading her back to her crate. She quietly submits, entering, and promptly lies down with her stuffed duck. Her large dark eyes watch me reproachfully, and soft hearted fool that I am, I feel guilty. She is only following her instinctual drive to mate, with no real idea of what is going on, or the consequences thereof. The thought of all the hard work to be had dealing with children...er... puppies, drives the sympathy from me, and I double check the latch on her crate. Secured.

"Sorry, little girl. If you knew what I'm saving you from, you would thank me."

Her eyes beg to differ.

But I know better.

You are right, Cindy. So right. Puppies and kids. i enjoyed your picture. I could see it clearly. I laughed at the scene. Dogs frolicking, flirting, peeing, running from you gleefully. And then there is you, irked, thinking, freezing, in a kill that kid mode, while your sweet, tender heart shines through it all.
This was very well written and expressed, Cindy. Nice.

Sondra

Thank you Sondra, for the read and comments. Being a mum, I know you know exactly how I feel.

I've done a small edit, hoping to clarify my feelings just a bit.

Liked it a lot Cindy, flowed very well. I've got a few nitpicks here. Mostly they're grammar ideas,

Moonlight illuminates the bare yard, casting all in winter’s cold light.

I'd consider removing the comma here.

My breath clouds before me with each exhalation.

I'd consider chopping everything after me.

from my son,

This comma I'd consider chopping

no room for,

This one too.

The gang consists of Rosie, a yellow lab, whom I had spayed when still a pup. Roscoe, a large black lab and Diesel, a border collie,

I'd take a look at the grammar used to separate the things you're listing. When listing things which have commas in and of themselves, you can use semi-colons to separate them. So for instance you could,

The gang consists of Rosie, a yellow lab whom I had spayed when still a pup; Roscoe, a large black lab; and Diesel, a border collie

I tell her, “he’

Here, I'd consider replacing the comma with a period and capitalizing he.

"Come along Bell, playtime is over,"

Normally in dialogue you have commas on each side of addresses, so Bell here. That's being a bit of a stickler. In casual speak I often have one only on the right.

She continues to prance, play, entice.

I think you could give the latter verbs a better flow by enclosing play with dashes instead of commas, and I'd consider exchanging that last period for a comma, joining it with the next sentence.

eyes watch me reproachfully. And

I'd consider exchanging this period with a comma.

Cool story . My mom recently went through the drama of her chihuahua Bo going through heat.

Thank you so much cae! You've been a huge help here, I truly appreciate it. I was hoping you would chime in here, as you are awesome with punctuation.

Hope your mom and Bo made it through without incident.

No problem, Gumbinator. I'm not an expert or anything, but I am an expert. Err. . . think I contradicted myself somewhere in there.