Short Fiction #36 Peter

Peter was puzzled.

He was not used to his commands being refused. His sharp, authoritative voice usually brought instant obedience. If that failed – and it rarely did – his glaring eyes and his lowered black eyebrows intimidated to the point of quick compliance. This time it didn’t work. He tried several different commands, his barking voice becoming more and more strident with each attempt.

There was no reaction.

The target of his wrath merely stood there staring with great interest at a beetle scampering across the lawn. Peter, not known for patience, suddenly snapped. He yelled a stream of commands that neighbours two streets away surely heard. The subject of this tirade turned from him and wandered aimlessly across the lawn. Peter stood there dumbfounded. For the first time in his life he experienced defeat. It was a new sensation for him and he didn’t know how to handle this rejection.

Emily came out of the house to see what all the yelling was about.

‘Peter,’ she said softly. ‘It’s no use using your parade ground voice on poor little Butch. Puppies need to be trained to obey commands.’

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Copyright 2007 Trevor W. Hampel