running away

It was nice outside. Windy. Cloudy. The sun was out, but not in full force. In these parts, full force meant a heck of a sun. Hot, sweat inducing, sweltering. It wasn’t like that today. Bright, cheery. Irregular. The stone driveway was smooth under his bare feet. He loved walking on it. He loved walking outside barefoot. To really feel the ground underneath him, whether it was dewy grass, or dry earth. Little blades of grass, soft earth. Freshly manicured earth, or irregular patches of ground. The sound of traffic hurtled outside. Far away, it seemed, even though it was only one street away. The infrequent chirping of birds. The laggers. The slow ones. They would get the worm too. The worm being the sunflower seeds, he thought, as he turned around, and looked up at the wall to the house. Clay bowls hanging from strings. Five in all, just on the house. Then two outside the walls. All filled with sunflower seeds. There were only a few birds on the electric wires. He could smell the different scents in the air. He wondered what they could smell as he smiled at them lovingly. One barked, short, staccato, high pitched yelps as she chased the smallest. Ears perked up. Tail wagging. The smallest was not the youngest. She was just a smaller breed. She loved being chased. Her tongue was out. Her eyes were filled with the sort of manic energy he had only seen once before and that was when she had finished having sex with the eldest. Before he had gotten both of them suppressants. The eldest roamed around, circling the cars. Tail high in the air. Waving casually. He opened the door to one of the cars, and sat down on the seat, snuggling in. He wished he had brought a sweater. It was kind of cold. He leaned into the seat, not sitting upright, kind of sliding off, sinking into it. He kept the door slightly open as his dogs ran around the lawn, circling the car. The eldest sniffed pots around the lawn, and raised his leg and peed on those he deemed fit for his golden liquor. The wind picked up, he hugged himself tighter and looked up. He was shocked for a second. The gate was open, the guard must have left it open carelessly. He didn’t know why he hadn’t noticed it before. The eldest was sniffing it warily. “Timmy,” he shouted. Just as the dog left and ran away, ears flat on his head. Running fast. He ran to the gate, looked out. The dog was nowhere to be seen. He loved the outside. And he had run away. He might be back. He had done this before. He’d show up at the gate, exhausted from his afternoon or evening run. Tongue out, waiting patiently at the closed gates to be let in. But he was rare. And this was a third world country. It was very likely he could be dog napped along the way. And he might not return. He sighed.