(for Carrianne and Enzo)
She opened the door into a sea of chaos. Flour, rice, and chips scattered from one end of the house to the other; herbs once happily growing on a sunny windowsill lay in shattered shards on the floor. She wondered if she'd been robbed, but what kind of burglar leaves televisions and laptops and ransacks kitchen cabinets? A bored, hungry one, apparently. She followed the trail of white through the house and on the furniture to catch the culprit red-handed, or white-pawed to be more accurate, sprawled and bloated on the sofa. Did you do this? she growled. He raised his head, lolling in her direction, and gave the sad-eyed greyhound face that they both knew she couldn't resist. If she didn't love him so much, she'd have killed him on the spot, but they both knew that wasn't happening either. She really didn't want to think about the havoc uncooked rice and flour might have on a dog's digestive track, so she pulled out the broom and got to work.
~Elise Skidmore ©2020