© 2012 Aaron Atkinson

Lola Roams

It’s 7:45 on Saturday morning. We’re taking the dogs to the dog park for a run and a swim. I’m driving. Laura is sitting shotgun next to me. Indie is in her crate in the back of my SUV. Lola roams.

She jumps from Laura’s lap onto the floor. Front the floor she puts her front paws on the console and she sniffs my arm. From there she bounces into the back of the car and peers inside of Indie’s crate where Indie is laying quietly, patiently waiting.

Lola growls then lets out a quiet bark. It’s playful but it’s also antagonistic.

I can almost hear Lola bragging to Indie…

Lola: Ha ha, big dog. You’re locked in that box, while I’m free to roam. Yes I’m a wild and uninhibited beast. This vehicle is my domain. Yes, you are the sister they lock in the dungeon while I’m in the princess whose beauty they want to leave free and on display. I am the….

I’m at a red light. It turns green. I go.

The movement throws Lola off balance. She falls and rolls, thudding against the back of Indie’s create.

It’s Indie’s turn.

Indie: Moron.


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