Hmph. Surprisingly clean, claws short and tidy.
She lowered herself by degrees, until she hovered on dog level. Her voice was low and steady, “My, you are one big, proud boy.”
Snarls smoothed into low rumble.
She offered a limp hand, palm down, slow as molasses. “And so very, very handsome. Aren’t you, boy?”
The growl paused for wet snuffling. Quick snorts pushed in and sucked out, tickling April’s knuckles; she couldn’t help but giggle. The dog lapped drool from the sagging corners of his slack lips.
“Smell something you like, huh?”
A velvet ear grazed her fingertips and a greedy snout rucked up her hand. She finally looked up to meet his eyes again, but they were closed in pleasure.
“Yeah, you’re just a big teddy bear.”
Her nails found the sweet spot at the crook of square jaw and muscled neck. Deep groan pitched into high whine and the massive beast hunkered down, knees buckling. April plopped her butt in the dirt and dug into the neck massage.
“Oh, somebody’s been eating pretty well,” she cooed, moving her other hand to his plump belly, displayed in tender, leg kicking pink. This dog was no stranger to tummy rubs. He rutted his nose against her backpack, clearly feeling entitled to treats. The image of her terrified brother’s face jarred against that realization. Who were these people that cooked moonshine and armed kids, but gave their Rottweiler enough chewies to keep his teeth sparkling?
“Not that I could resist loving you either,” she smiled.
“Oh, shit! The cellphone alarm…”
April scrambled for the phone as equine haunches streaked away from her, tail tucked and legs pumping so fast they blurred.
A thick twang howled from the backyard. “What the hell was that?”
This flash fiction is a part of the Blogging From A to Z (April 2015) Challenge. A new installment arrives every day in April, following the alphabet; check the calendar below to see which letters post on which days. Read more about this blogfest HERE.