Zoe Miller
Bio
New Jersey Resident
Writer, Network Eng, Entrepreneur
Stories (2)
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Brute's Little Black Book
Brute’s Little Black Book I just got in from work, I know Brute’s tiny bladder is ready to implode. I throw on some sweats and never miss a beat, I scoop meat head up like an NFL running back recovering a fumble headed for the end zone. We arrive at the park and take a brisk stroll along the perimeter. The cool breeze is refreshing, we go around twice after settling on a lakeside bench. We love to people watch at least I do Brute just loves being outside, my favorites are the pet owners. An old woman once scolded her poodle for being constipated. The strangest so far has been a half-naked woman with a Boa around her waist. She seemed spacey borderline insane, the snake seemed more like a hostage instead of a pet. If it slithers it would not be my first, second or any choice of pets. Brute runs back and forth along the bench poking his chest out, barking at everything that moves. Like a soldier guarding his piece of the park, wagging his stub, slobbering on everything. Not a care in the world as he marks his territory over and over. The first time I laid eyes on him, I was tipsy. I wasn’t sure if he was a ferret, a dog or a weasel, he was all bone, no meat. Corrine was fed up with her career and our relationship. She was strong enough to end the charades always the realist I would have dragged things out. During our breakup she confessed that she wanted to fall in love but love would hinder her career. I think I loved her I do know I deeply cared for her. Obviously not enough, I never tried to salvage what we had. When she stormed out, it hit me a few hours later, she was not coming back. I felt something not sure what, guilt or a broken heart. Whatever it was I tried to drown it with three bottles of red wine. I had no desire to be alone or sulk all weekend.
By Zoe Miller5 years ago in Petlife
