One woman's quest for tail-wagging joy starts with a shock at the vet's office #Comedy

What the Dog Ate
by Jackie Bouchard


The vet handed Maggie Baxter a plastic specimen bag containing a pair of size-tiny, lavender thong panties extracted from her dog; but they were not hers. Or rather, they were hers now since she’d just paid $734 to have Dr. Carter surgically remove them from Kona’s gut.

She’d come home late the previous night from a three-day conference. When she crawled into bed, Dave had muttered hello, but was snoring again within the minute.

Then, this morning, she’d awakened to the muted foghorn sounds of Kona heaving. As she’d hurried down the hall to the living room, knowing that was where the chocolate Lab would be, she wondered two things: how could Dave sleep through that horrid noise; and why, in a house ninety percent floored with hardwood and tile, did the dog always throw up on the carpet?

She’d made it in time and pushed the big brown dog out back. Standing stiff-legged on the lawn, he had heaved several more times but nothing came up. When she’d offered him breakfast and he wouldn’t even look at it, she’d known a vet visit would be on the day’s agenda.

This could be the best two weeks of their life... #Romance #Comedy

Summer Lovin'

by Donna Cummings


"So, Bootsie, why do you think hunky neighbor guy is washing that car all day long?"

Mia turned the puppy around to face her, and he tilted his head, as if he was seriously considering her question. Or admiring his reflection in her oversized sunglasses. The Bichon was tiny, a cotton ball's worth of white fur, but he had the most expressive dark eyes. Not to mention a big personality.

Bootsie barked, twice.

"You might be right. Maybe he's a chauffeur."

Mia resettled the pup in her arms, stretching her bare legs out on the lawn chair. There was a lot to be said for the leisurely life of a dog-sitter.

Such as the neighbor with dark flowing hair and enviably tanned skin. He wore cargo shorts and flip flops, and a faded blue T-shirt that stretched across his broad chest. When he bent over to scrub the sporty BMW's hubcaps, Mia bit her lip.

She didn't know whether to admire his well-developed calves or the nice curve of his backside.

After the past few years stuck in a windowless office, running her brothers' business, she had decided it was time to do something else with her life. Dog-sitting for the next two weeks was the perfect opportunity to figure it out.

Mia sipped her iced tea, holding it away from the puppy's curious paw so she could set it on the plastic table next to her. "I wouldn't have expected chauffeurs to be so muscular, but he is getting a pretty good workout with that wax on, wax off routine." She lifted the puppy. "See how his arms flex each time he washes the hood of the car? I know! Maybe he's a music video stud."

The car washer/chauffeur paused, the sponge gripped in his hand.

"Gnome On The Range" by Jennifer Zane

"I’m going back to the garage sale where I bought the gnomes.”

“No way. It might be dangerous.”

“A dangerous garage sale?”

A muscle in his neck grew taut as he most likely grinded his teeth. “You have no idea why that vial was in the gnome or what kind of people we’re dealing with."

From "Better Off Without Him" by Dee Ernst

You would think that there is nothing in the world more embarrassing, not to mention humbling, than taking dating advice from your teen-aged daughters.
Well, there is.

Try taking fashion advice from your teen-aged daughters.

Jessica struck at the kitchen table.  “What are you wearing?” she said around a mouthful the chocolate Pop Tart that was her breakfast.

I was peeling an avocado.  For my lunch.  It was, after all, past noon, but the girls and I are on a very separate dining schedules during the summer.  “What am I wearing when?”

“Tonight.  With Mr. Keegan.  He’s a very young-thinking guy.  All his other dates have been twenty-something, so he’s used to fashion-forward women.”

“Are you suggesting I’m not fashion-forward?”

She looked at me with skepticism.  To be fair, I was wearing khaki walking shorts with very frayed cuffs and a navy T-shirt that said “Republicans for Voldemort”.

From "I.O.U. Sex" by Sandy Nachlinger and Sandra Allen

Friends June, Kiki, and Peggy are reading June's high school diary -- decades after graduation...

Peggy hiccupped, then chuckled. “Oh, Lordy, that was a long time ago.” She crunched another handful of candy. “It’s hard to believe the three of us were really that naïve back in high school—so different from teenaged girls today. And just think of our poor boyfriends. We’d get them all worked up, then send them home with little more than a goodnight kiss.”

Kiki rolled her eyes. “Shit, if I’d known then what I know now, things would have been very different. When I think of the staying power of those eighteen-year-old guys . . .” She sighed. “Too bad we wasted it.”

Peggy put her hand over her mouth to keep her drink from spewing out with her laughter. “Please, I’m serious. Those boys must have felt as sad as a fiddle with one string. So disappointed, so . . . unfulfilled. It must have been hard on them.”

“Unfulfilled?” June grinned. “That’s priceless.”

Kiki arched an eyebrow. “That’s also an understatement if I ever heard one, but you’re sure right about the hard part.”

From "No Wings Attached" by Stella Deleuze

He was about to reply, but she cut him short:

'I'm not negotiating. You failed with that desperate woman who needed a bit of luck. And what did you do? Delivered what? You can't drive a tank in London! No wonder she freaked out.' I open my mouth to reply, but she holds a hand up.

'They wanted to bring her into a clinic, a person with no mental problems. Yes, she wanted a tank, but one to keep fish, not a military vehicle!' Christine shakes her head, although her red lips pull into a tiny smile. I grin, pretending to look at the painting behind her.

'What were you thinking?' I can sense even she has trouble staying serious. 'I had to send one of my best helpers to save the woman's luck. Get this case right and we'll see how we go from there. This woman, Celia, needs the basics first! The bosses expect you to succeed. See this as a chance to make up for the last time.' I choke down my answer. I'd just misunderstood the wish. A tank's a tank, isn't it?