Daily Theme from Susan Orlean!

We’re howling with excitement to have a prompt from the super-talented Susan Orlean, staff writer for The New Yorker and author of The Orchid Thief (which inspired the awesomely weird film Adaptation), an essay collection about everyone’s favorite night of the week, Saturday Night, and The Bull Fighter Checks Her Make-Up, a book of profiles that’s a must-read for aspiring journos.  Her latest book  Rin Tin Tin, a bi-dog-raphy of the movie star mutt, shows that sometimes the best inspiration can come from the four legged friends in our lives. 

Figment Daily Theme–June 21, 2012

You’re a dog, with the power to write. You’ve been watching your two masters’ relationship fall apart. Write about what you see and feel.

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3 thoughts on “Daily Theme from Susan Orlean!

  1. To Whom This May Concern:

    I’ve been in this house for days. The humans left and I’m here alone. I hope this letter finds its way to someone that can talk some sense into them, but my dog sense tells me they are no longer speaking and I’m up for grabs.
    The female human comes daily to give me food and drink, and she lets me outside for a bit so I can do my business and run the yard. The feline is gone. She took that musky smelling creature a few days ago so I know I am screwed. The feline is always pampered and well cared for while I sit here all alone. The male human comes in sometimes and sleeps here, but he just smells of some medicinal odor. When he smells like that he also falls down and laughs to himself. It’s the only time he’s nice to me. I also hear him cry and then he soon falls asleep.
    We used to be happy here; even with the feline. He stayed clear of me and that suited me fine. He spit growled at me when I got too near and I would stalk him just to piss him off. I had to be careful because the pointy things on his paws are sharp and he tries to get me in the face. He needs to watch out because I could clamp down with one bite and it would be over for him. Oh, if only I could snap his little neck; then the female human would pay more attention to me.
    I have to stop thinking murderously. I made a promise to myself I would never hurt another creature even though it’s in my nature. My mother was a killer. She would have snapped that feline’s neck as soon as she saw him. He would not have known what hit him. They said she was a psycho bitch from hell. Even my dad stayed clear of her, but he was such a feline whipped male as most are in our pedigree. The females are the aggressive and territorial entities in our line. Other canine breeds have nothing on us as far as aggression and build.
    Anyway, I like the female human better than the male. She is nice to me and she plays with me. She has never said a cruel word to me. I waited for her arrival everyday from where ever she went each morning. She was like clockwork; she came home the same sun time daily. I did silly things like throw my fuzzy bone at her so she would throw it back to me. I would try to bite her toes. Then I would lie on the floor and roll over on my back and let her be the alpha even though we all know I am truly the alpha here. She’d rub my belly and talk some silly language the humans do when they talk to little humans. It may be stupid, but it is actually very soothing to the soul. I just want lick her face when she does it because it makes me feel so awesome.
    But, those days are over. She spends no time with me anymore and this place is becoming emptier by the day. I am tired now so I am going to take a nap.

    Poppy Dog

    Poppy could write any more on this letter because her human came back and took her away. It is unknown of her whereabouts.

  2. I always have enjoyed the wonderful, sweet, comfortable moments when my owner, Dwin, storms into her office and slams the door. I wait for her on weekdays in her office, the days when my male owner doesn’t come home until morning. Some days I fall asleep, only to be awoken by a kick in my side. I feel comfort then, because I know my lovely owner is in need of my attention. The pain of her tripping over me at the door is quickly dulled by her delicate touch on top of my head. She often paces behind her desk for a few moments, then drops to the window seat where she pats her lap to beckon me over. There I often feel her tears roll onto my fur, and after her crying has calmed down from a wail, she starts talking. Although I can’t understand her, I know it’s the male. I’ve seen her slap him, scream at him, and be thrown across the room by him. I comfort her, and she adores me.
    Today I wait for her to come home, but this time I wait on the front porch. It’s been too many days to not be the weekend. He male is supposed to be home. It’s that day where he should be in his room, coughing and opening windows to let out the smell of cigarette smoke and beer. Instead he rushed in and grabbed a bag of clothes and a vase of roses off of the dining table. Maybe he was going to apologize and take her out, I wondered. But when I saw the female pull up in her car, i knew something was wrong.

    A few days later the male came back, and my female went out for a drive. She returned shortly and ignored me as she walked through the door. Screaming, shouting, writing. She had brought in papers. The male picked up the phone. The female shouted over him while he begged into the phone. I didn’t understand the words. More shouting for a while, then the door flew open. Another woman threw her arms around the man. They kissed, and I growled. That was MY female’s job. The man stomped his foot at me and growled back. I tucked my tail between my legs and backed away. I scrambled into my females office and shivered. I stayed there for a long time. Days, weeks. I never saw the man until one da he opened the office door and put a collar on me. I growled again and again, i barked. I finally wiggled free of the harness and retreated to my female. She looked at my pityingly for a moment, and I heard

    “I’ll see you next weekend. That man, he’s taking you away. I’ll only see you on the weekends from Now on.” she knelt down and scratched the top of my head.”I’ll get you back. Some time.”

    The next weekend I was back with my owner.she never cried, but I got continuous attention. Walks, treats, petting, it was amazing. During the week I started digging under the mans fence. I escaped. And ran home. I already knew the way, and my female accepted my welcome warmly. She cleaned out the shed and kept me there until she convinced the male that I was gone. I was gone. From the mans life. Forever.

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