Thank you for your kind words, David. We had a pack of hunting dogs when I was a kid and one that used to get picked on- it occurred to me even then, that one was braver than all the others put together 😊😊
I love that you enjoy them. I never imagined writing flash fiction or micros until I started doing Miguel’s and Erica’s prompts. They have been much fun! 🥰🥰
This made me sad and happy at the same time, somehow. Sorry for the old dog left behind and bullied, but happy that he "made a statement". Completely intriguing! I have never come across this kind of capsule fiction before.
Thanks so much! I was unaware of this sort of micro fiction too- you should check out Miguel The Fiction Dealer-subscribe and you will get notice of all his prompts and how many words are allowed. Also, in his comments you can read some other great microfiction writers- maybe try some out for yourself! Appreciate your comment about Old Bones 🥰🥰
Oh, I see. I was wondering whether there was some sort of encoded meaning in those descriptions, which would become clear eventually ! Thanks , I will check that writer out.
I probably shouldn't ask but by referring to "both" one felt like the badger carcass. Which character was the other? It could only be Bonapart, but disappeared to to where and how. Did he die? If so, when, and if it was awhile, that badger carcass was hanging around for a long time.
The poem has such a great feel to it, I don't normally barge into the kitchen and ask a bunch of questions about the ingredients in the meal, but in this case, for some reason I am inclined to. Answering of course is entirely optional. Cheers Tracy.
I absolutely LOVE it when someone asks questions like this- thanks so much for taking time to read, comment/ask! My intent was to say they both disappeared. Now as to why Old Bones disappeared, one can only speculate- perhaps he sensed his temporary respite from the torment was coming to an end as the carcass lost its substance and power, and simply ran away. Or, perhaps as animals often do, he sensed his end was near and crawled off to die. He was a smart old bugger, you could see it in his eyes. I tried to befriend him, but dogs raised close to their feral nature as hunting dogs often are in red neck families, are very transactional in their relationships with humans - he trusted none of us… which IMO makes him even smarter. 😉 Thanks again for your interest and curiosity- made my day! 🥰
Oh wow. Thank you for responding. I can feel it. The poem and the thread have this feeling that hearkens back to “Where the Red Fern Grows”. I like poems that transport me easily with feel and mood and place, but leave open the very questions you left open about Old Bones…wild personalities so obviously just passing through, just like me and you, but leaving no bones about it. ;)
What a great comment, you have a way with words and you’ve given me a lead on a book I think I would like but have not read! Thanks again and I hope you stay in touch with your questions and comments. Best wishes 🥰😊
How much feeling you can get in a very short story just blows me away. I love this.
Thank you for your kind words, David. We had a pack of hunting dogs when I was a kid and one that used to get picked on- it occurred to me even then, that one was braver than all the others put together 😊😊
I love your short stories Tracy! I hope you decide to make a compilation some day! 💖
I love that you enjoy them. I never imagined writing flash fiction or micros until I started doing Miguel’s and Erica’s prompts. They have been much fun! 🥰🥰
Poor "Old Bones" thinking he had to prove something to those jerks.
I love the way you think- Old Bones loves your comment too. 😉😊✨✨
Hee! :-)
This made me sad and happy at the same time, somehow. Sorry for the old dog left behind and bullied, but happy that he "made a statement". Completely intriguing! I have never come across this kind of capsule fiction before.
Thanks so much! I was unaware of this sort of micro fiction too- you should check out Miguel The Fiction Dealer-subscribe and you will get notice of all his prompts and how many words are allowed. Also, in his comments you can read some other great microfiction writers- maybe try some out for yourself! Appreciate your comment about Old Bones 🥰🥰
Oh, I see. I was wondering whether there was some sort of encoded meaning in those descriptions, which would become clear eventually ! Thanks , I will check that writer out.
A Badger, Old Bones was a very brave boy. I hope he's curled in front of an old lady's fireplace in the woods somewhere.
In reality, I think it was a coon but I liked a badger better for the piece. Loved those hunting dogs 🥰 Thanks for reading and commenting, Bliss!
I probably shouldn't ask but by referring to "both" one felt like the badger carcass. Which character was the other? It could only be Bonapart, but disappeared to to where and how. Did he die? If so, when, and if it was awhile, that badger carcass was hanging around for a long time.
The poem has such a great feel to it, I don't normally barge into the kitchen and ask a bunch of questions about the ingredients in the meal, but in this case, for some reason I am inclined to. Answering of course is entirely optional. Cheers Tracy.
I absolutely LOVE it when someone asks questions like this- thanks so much for taking time to read, comment/ask! My intent was to say they both disappeared. Now as to why Old Bones disappeared, one can only speculate- perhaps he sensed his temporary respite from the torment was coming to an end as the carcass lost its substance and power, and simply ran away. Or, perhaps as animals often do, he sensed his end was near and crawled off to die. He was a smart old bugger, you could see it in his eyes. I tried to befriend him, but dogs raised close to their feral nature as hunting dogs often are in red neck families, are very transactional in their relationships with humans - he trusted none of us… which IMO makes him even smarter. 😉 Thanks again for your interest and curiosity- made my day! 🥰
Oh wow. Thank you for responding. I can feel it. The poem and the thread have this feeling that hearkens back to “Where the Red Fern Grows”. I like poems that transport me easily with feel and mood and place, but leave open the very questions you left open about Old Bones…wild personalities so obviously just passing through, just like me and you, but leaving no bones about it. ;)
What a great comment, you have a way with words and you’ve given me a lead on a book I think I would like but have not read! Thanks again and I hope you stay in touch with your questions and comments. Best wishes 🥰😊