Walking The Dog

• Una Santos, Grade 5
• Short Story
• 2022

I’ve walked Homer time after time, but this time, it wasn't a walk in the park. Homer has aged tremendously and I believe he’s matured. I mean, he doesn’t bite as much as he used to! But I guess that’s his tactic of tricking me into thinking that it would be a “wonderful” idea to let him off leash.
Homer starts to bolt onto the road. My heart skips a beat as I give chase. He notices that I start to follow him and he sprints out of my reach. I panic even more as I notice the glare of the car lights up the street. It was like lions staring at their prey. The sound of the horns blaring was even more terrifying than it usually is. Now I know this is no joke. If I return back to Homer’s owner with a squished pug, they would make me pay back tenfold.
I increase my speed and nearly reach the crazed pug. Sweat drips down my forehead like a waterfall, my legs feel like loose jelly, the smell of bitter fear fills the air and the pressure of his owners makes me petrified. But I can’t stop. I slow down and take a deep breath, then I start to scream,
“HOMER, I GOT TREATS!”
He turns his head and starts to bolt right back. The imitating cars start to make their way down the road as I take hold of Homer and scram out of the way. I feel a sense of pride and joy after all that drama. The smell of victory fills the air…it smells like dog poop. I look down as I sigh. I know now what my next challenge is!