scottie puppy



Upstairs Mama talked to me. I stood where the bathroom window stuck out. The roof could be seen below and the back yard.

“You are going to have a baby brother or baby sister. Would you like a baby brother? or sister?”

Below the roof, trees were beginning to turn green. The yard looked green. Cold but green.

That night Daddy and I went back to the kennel. It was dark. He lit a long wooden room. His hand stirred a pot of food: then poured a brown bottle. Light hung from a string. Over the door stood brown bottles. There is that blue, I thought, that square blue jar. The brown bottles were tall, short, round, fat, narrow.

Daddy leaned down feeding each dog in each pen. They snuffled, making snuffling noises.

“Puppies! Daddy, the puppies!”

“Just a minute son.”

Against the wall sat a blue box: it had a board top. Tiny cryings could be heard.

I waited. Waited and waited.

Daddy lifted the board. With black eyes the mama dog looked up. The puppies were worming, worming, mama looking up at Us. He knocked food into her bowl. She lay sideways looking up, eyes wet and black, the puppies worming under her.

Daddy pulled a string. Dark again. We went out. I thought about a baby brother or a baby sister. I did not know what to think.



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