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The Seventh story

Remember I told you about that writing competition that Taylor had attended yesterday?? Well, I did a little research on the computer and voila! I chanced upon the write-up she had submitted. I also figured out that all the students had been given the topic “If I Could Talk To Animals…” and had to write something using that. Anyway, here’s what Taylor typed. Enjoy!

Just before thirteen-year old Indigo Bleu could twist the knob of the door that led to her room, she heard something scuttling behind her. ‘Who goes there?’ she demanded, her face turning a milky white, just before she spotted the shaggy mane of her pet dog, Tyson. ‘Oh, its only you, darling,’ she said, heaving a sigh.

‘You really do need to get those books dusted,’ her puppy noticed, enthusiastically wagging his tail. Indigo froze. ‘You… you spoke??’ she asked, her legs trembling. ‘Surprised me too,’ her dog said, inching towards her. Indigo was going to bellow her mum’s name in fright, when her Cocker Spaniel put his petite paws against his snout as if to say, ‘Shush, Indigo! I’m not going to hurt you…’

Indigo gathered her wits and breathed calmly, trying to take in the fact that her dog [yes, you read right, herDOG] had just conversed with her. ‘Don’t be afraid, I don’t want to hurt you,’ Tyson assured. ‘Come, sit down,’ he suggested, patting the bean bag that was flung onto the carpetted floorboards before him. Indigo nodded, and flopped onto the couch that her pup had gestured to. When she realised that Tyson was looking at her as if expecting her to say something, she racked her brains for a suitable responce. ‘Umm… What is it like? Being you, I mean,’ she asked. ‘Oh, it’s terrible,’ Tyson expressed with an exaggerated shudder.

‘To answer your question in more detail, let me take you through a typical day in the life of me, Tyson Bleu,’ he stated. Indigo clasped her hands around her knees in anticipation  ‘Well, it starts when mum ushers me out of my cozy duvet at around eight in the morning. I beg for a few extra minutes of slumber, but my pleas falls on deaf ears. So I trot down the stairs and give you a parting lick before that beast of a school bus snatches you away from me for the rest of the day. I spend the next couple of hours trailing mummy around the house. As soon as the grandfather clock chimes half past twelve, I begin subtly reminding mum about my mid-day meal. After roughly about fifteen minutes, mum bustles into the kitchen and prepares a steaming lunch. I relish every morsel.’ Tyson smacked his tongue.

‘Well, after my bowl of kibble, I curl up in the master bedroom for a siesta. I dream about ice-creams and chews and  a slim waistline. Daddy interrupts my snooze in a few hours. After a feeble protest, I patiently await your arrival. As soon as the imposing vehicle halts in front of the yard, I joyously march up to you and give you a royal welcome.

‘Once you have entered your study, it is confirmed that you will not emerge till twilight sets in. So I find a suitable nook where I nap for a little more time. What can I say? I need my twenty-two hours of beauty sleep!! Anyway, once you reappear from that dreaded study, you set off for dinner. I, like a devoted buddy, flop onto your feet and don’t budge till you’ve wiped out the last crumb on the plate. As soon as the family has dined, mum serves my dinner which I happily munch. After slurping up my last snack of the day, I follow you to your room before slumping down beside your four-poster bed.

‘Thus ends a satisfactory day in the life of busy-body Tyson Bleu, a workaholic who never rests for a moment,’ Tyson groaned dramatically to which Indigo could only smile.

Isn’t that marvelous? 

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