Everyone knows a dog isn’t just for Christmas. Yet, every January, dog homes become inundated with cast-offs. Frankly, it makes me barking mad.
Last year hit even closer to home when I saw Oscar trailing back in, a Labrador with the sweetest, laid-back disposition.
“What went wrong?” I demanded, looking straight into the owner’s eyes as Oscar collapsed into his old basket.
“Oh, Rex,” she sighed, inappropriately reaching her hand towards my face. “He never stopped eating and when he gobbled the turkey, it was the last straw.”
Oscar had the grace to look shamefaced, briefly holding one eye open, before pretending to sleep.
“We’ll never get you housed like this,” I warned.
When Bella, a cheeky Jack Russell, came marching back in, my heart plummeted. I listened to the complaints about her lively, determined character and too many smelly doo-doos and turned away impatiently. They’d never find a chirpier dog and didn’t deserve her.
She grabbed her ball and started racing in circles, but I felt her sadness, and she hardly touched her food. Luckily, Oscar still had room for a little more.
My head ached all evening and I avoided my colleagues. These poor dogs, rejected for simply being themselves. It was heartbreaking. Something had to change.
I called an emergency meeting, described the surge in numbers, and urged stricter vetting techniques for potential owners. There were growls of dissent, but most colleagues agreed, particularly as I’d raided the snacks.
Work started the next day. Each possible owner who arrived had not one, not two but three interviews and were put through stringent psychological and physical tests. We wanted to know their exact thoughts on training, walks, feeding and dog hair. We checked how far they could throw balls and sticks and whether they could stoop to pick up doo-doos. We struck people off the ‘possible’ list if we felt something was off, refusing entry. Dogs’ lives were at stake!
The top dogs heard and didn’t like our way of running the place. Tensions ran high as they threatened us with a new manager, some ex-shepherd from Germany called Gunter. The dogs were anxious; Oscar even opened both eyes at once for up to five minutes at a time and Bella chased her tail so rapidly, she span like a spinning top.
The dreaded day arrived and despite my loyal comrades vowing to barricade the gates, I knew we were doomed. We watched the new guy pad down the path, long hair flowing. He knew we were watching and obviously enjoyed the attention, stopping to smell herb bushes on the way with a nonchalance that made my hackles rise.
I waited at the door, mustering all my power, and smiled as I felt Bella and Oscar at my sides. You can’t beat dogs for being faithful.
Gunter stared at me, long faced as a wolf. “You must be Rex,” he barked.
Bella yapped and spun in circles and Gunter leapt towards her, circled her three times, and herded her away. Oscar grumbled deeply but then stood confused as Gunter shook himself and laughed.
“So sorry,” he said. “You can take the shepherd out of Germany but I’m still a German Shepherd at the end of the day.” He extended a paw to Bella in apology, and she preened herself in response.
“Rex, I hear you’re a dog-saving hero in these parts.” Gunter grinned, displaying gleaming white teeth. “Show me what you’ve done so far.”
I thumped my tail proudly and led him round the kennels, delighted to have a new, powerful ally by my side.
4/10/2026
The Words That Got to Me
I loved Oscar, “had the grace to look shamefaced, briefly holding one eye open” and Bella's energy is captured well with “racing in circles” and “span like a spinning top” perfectly capturing the antics of her breed. The lines of humour are also nicely done, “we checked how far they could throw balls and sticks” reminds me of my own dogs—I have 3 German Shepherds and “You can take the shepherd out of Germany but I’m still a German Shepherd at the end of the day.” is true.
Suggestions / Possible Tweaks
“Everyone knows a dog isn’t just for Christmas” This cliche opening makes the piece seem more predictable than it proved to be and may put off readers who dismiss it as a typical twee doggy story. “It was heartbreaking. Something had to change.” I want to feel it, not just be told it. Somehow, the piece misses the genuine emotional weight of abandonment. “I called an emergency meeting… Work started the next day.” This is so brief and could have been a wonderful comedic event. I feel an opportunity missed. “delighted to have a new, powerful ally by my side” given the buildup, where was the tension, leading to reversal and making friends. I felt the ending was rushed.
I enjoyed this nicely crafted 'tail'. It has a strong central idea, and the anthropomorphic perspective is nicely handled, with the humour landing well for the most part. Your character touches show genuine observation skills. I found that it may have fallen a bit short on depth and bite, but that is always a fine balance in flash, you did have a bit more space to play with, so, particularly in the middle section, a bit less rush may be beneficial. It stands as an easy-to-read, charming tale of doggedness.