Written as part of a challenge called Tale weaver, details at available at:
Copper jingles at a different tone. It resonates with life. Not quiet clear, a tad fuzzy and awkward. It announces her arrival in a similar manner. She stands normal. Her petite frame and size is ordinary. Her white hair never held dye. Her cheeks sunken from the cradle. She is odd only in her normal appearance. You can’t put words to it. She could be a ghost.
Her ears scan for the right sound. The healthy heart. The vial full of life’s essence. The fuzzy forms yip. They wait on their cages for rescue. A dog pound, shelter, but it’s also a life bank. In the right hands….
She motions the girl behind the counter.
The perky girl, Page, grabs a lead, smiles and says “Who are we taking home today! ”
“We are looking at the young male lab mix in cage 37. I need a young active dog. I like ones that need a little training. They can add years to your life. You know……Page.” Mrs Cooper eyeballs the name tag last.
Page wanders down a hall Mrs Cooper never walked. In the precise cage, a black lab 9 months in age. With sprinters speed he darts out of cage. Page is pulled along for the ride. The pup bolts to Mrs Cooper. She parts him on the head. Her touch a sedative.
“Page, I need a collar for him. I’ll call him Pickles!” Mrs Cooper works a tag of her charm bracklet. “Yes. Pickles you will add years to my life”
Pickles starts to shake.