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Midnight Toilet Trip

One way conversation

By Emma WeirPublished about 3 hours ago 2 min read
Midnight Toilet Trip
Photo by Nick Fewings on Unsplash

"TeddyBear, come on. Come on, let's go weewees. Weewees. Weewees!

Good girl, let's go. And I'm closing the door too so you can't ditch me outside this time, babs.

Look, I'll put the torch on. There we go.

I know it's raining, I know. My shoulders are freezing and I'm getting just as wet as you are... well, almost.

Right, weewees time. Teddy go weewees.

...

Good girl! Good girl, now we need the poopoos.

Come on, the quicker you poop, the quicker we go back in.

If we go this way we can get extra light, yeah? Would that help? Just trespass ever so slightly on their tiled bricks. And walk right past their front door apparently. So it's not just the whole area under their wooden overhang then. Is the sensor a little further this way? Ah! There we go, Teds, how's that? A lot better than my torch, innit. Really need to remember to replace the batteries in this thing.

Where are you going?

Okay, the torch is still necessary. How are you able to still dodge all these puddles in the dark?

Are we going towards the footpath? I know you like to try and leave little gifts for the dog walkers without me noticing. I'll take my normal route and you'll take yours, either side of the biggest puddle of them all. Practically a bog, really, especially as it's half in the grass and mud now too instead of the gravel like the rest.

Okay, poopoos, Teddy? Teddy? Did you not..? Oh, you stopped at that bush tree whatever-it-is that you like. A heads up would have been nice, bud.

Here? Poopoos? Teddy, poopoos.

Weewees? Weewees poopoos.

Okay, we're still taking our time on that one I see.

And we're puddle dodging again, or at least you are. Half of these are so shallow even the torch can't find them, but never too shallow for the socks, 'ey?

Next bit of grass reached. Is it time? Could it really be? She's circling, she's really sniffing at this patch now, circling still. Oo, slowing down. Slowing, slowing, squat!

...

Good girl! Good girl go poopoos!

That's it, race back to the house. I'm going to try not to step in too many puddles, though now I don't have to stay outside I might not try so hard.

And back to the puddle-less path. Nice.

TeddyBear? You aren't waiting for me at the door? That's unlike you. Don't tell me you're actually enjoying the rain now?

Teddy?

Teds?

TeddyBear?

Where the flip did you go, dog?

Ain't no way you went to the wrong door.

No, not there.

Aaaaaand not at the front door either.

TeddyBear?

TeddyBear!

Teddy!

Girl, wherever you are, let's just go inside. The wind is picking up and this jacket is thinner than your curls, I swear.

Teddy?

TeddyBear!

Where on Earth did you go? Did you manage to sneak in without me again? Did Georgia or Sam let you in? I didn't hear you knocking though, and I wasn't actually that far behind you.

They'd have seen me, anyway, by the time they got to the door.

Or I'd have seen them through the windows of it in the kitchen. I'd have seen you in the kitchen.

TeddyBear?

TeddyBear!

Come on, dog, I'm cold and wet and worried...

Ah!

What is-

Oh my life, TeddyBear, Teddy, don't scare me like that! Ugh, TeddyBear, babs, I love you, come on, let's go get warm."

Short Story

About the Creator

Emma Weir

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