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Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
A Suitable Subject
Jules walked past the row of empty cages. Each one held a bed, a blanket, and a ball. Pallets of food sat in a room at the end of the row, and a stack of shiny bowls waited to be filled. They had everything they needed. Almost.
“You can’t wish them here sooner,” a voice said from the other end of the hall.
Jules looked up at Dr. Desdemona Hammond, who stood with her hands on her hips as though she were scolding a small child. Her salt-and-pepper braids were held tightly at the nape of her neck with a small ribbon, the only sign of frivolity on an otherwise stern and imposing figure.
“I know,” Jules said. “My grandma used to say that you can wish in one hand and sh--”
Dr. Hammond cut them off. “I’m aware of the saying,” she said. “And your grandma was right.”
“But c’mon, Mona.”
Dr. Hammond winced a little. Jules had a level of familiarity that made her uncomfortable.
“We’ll acquire the subjects when the formula is ready,” she said bluntly and walked back into the lab.
*** abbreviated version for website ***
Good Boy! Speak!
Jules stared blankly at Indy who cocked his head to the side and stared back. The terrier mix had a patch of longer hair around his snout that looked like a mustache and beard, and Jules had always thought it made the dog look more human.
“I must be losing it,” they said. “It’s one thing to talk to the dog and another when he talks back.”
“So... you did hear me, then?”
Jules’ eyes darted to look at Indy.
“You did!” Indy’s tail wagged uncontrollably as he shuffled toward Jules much like he did at the end of every day. Only this time, Jules flinched. Indy’s tail stopped, and his ears laid back. “You okay?”
Jules ignored him and reached for their laptop on the coffee table.
“Could be a stroke,” they said as they began typing. “Or maybe some kind of lucid dream?” As Indy stared intently, they announced each word as they typed. “What. Does. A. Gas. Leak. Smell. Like.”
“The only gas I smell is from those treats,” Indy said. “All those probiotics, am I right?”
Jules continued to stare at their laptop screen.
“Look, I could use a little reassurance here myself,” Indy pleaded. “What was in those treats? You’re just ignoring me, right? But you can hear me?”
*** abbreviated version for website ***
Enemies And Friends
Jules had never seen Mona like this. She was softer. Lighter. And downright giddy at times. She laughed at Indy’s jokes as she pored over test results, and she flittered around the lab. Mona had never flittered before. But she was a scientist with a talking dog.
Revolutionary was her new favorite word.
Once she’d checked and rechecked and re-rechecked all her findings, Mona requested a meeting.
Frank Kingsley sat at the head of a long conference table that was flanked by more executives in suits. A nervous energy filled the boardroom.
“We’ve already spent a fortune,” one said. “So all I know is that it better be good news.”
Mr. Kingsley assured him. “Probably ready to begin testing, which would actually put us ahead of schedule for the launch.”
“I hope you’re right, Frank. We got a lot riding on this.”
“Nobody has more riding on this than I do,” Frank reminded him.
A young man appeared in the doorway. “They’re here, Sir. You want me to send them in?”
Mr. Kingsley nodded.
The trio entered the boardroom to whispers amidst looks of confusion and disgust. As Jules and Indy took a seat, Mona stood at the end of the table opposite Mr. Kingsley.
“I hope you’re going to explain why there’s a dog sitting in my boardroom,” he said.
“Yes. I will,” Mona said. “Good morning, Mr. Kingsley. And Board,” she added, looking around the room. “I won’t keep you in suspense any longer. As you’re all well aware, we’re in the process of developing a formula designed to eliminate anxiety in dogs. In turn, we hope their owners will feel less anxiety about leaving them home alone.”
*** abbreviated version for website ***
Saviors of the Lost Bark
Jules, Indy, and Mona brainstormed ideas into the wee hours of the morning.
They’d made their way to Jules’ apartment just as the effects of Indy’s last treat were wearing off and his conversation with a nearby squirrel had turned into nothing but loud barks. Now, he shushed the others as his ears stood up, and Jules and Mona both waited for him to speak.
“Bill’s getting up,” he said. “3 a.m. on the dot.”
“I say we go with the video,” Jules said. “I can have it up in a few clicks, and we can all get some sleep.”
“I don’t know,” Mona added. “I still say it feels reckless.”
Jules snapped back. “No. What’s reckless is knowing that you could change the world, but you’re too stupid to see the forest for the trees. That’s reckless. And selfish. They don’t get to keep this secret.”
“Yeah,” Indy scoffed. “You can’t stop innovating just because the market might be ruff.”
Mona thought for a moment then nodded in agreement. “Ok then,” she said. “Let’s do it.”
*** abbreviated version for website ***
Credits
AMANDA HIGGINS
Writer
DALLAS CRISCOE
Editor
LIZ CORMACK
Contributor
About
Delivered by our SOURCE Newsletter, Short Stories explores the drama of work through real and fictional storytelling. All characters and storylines are fictional unless otherwise specified. To sponsor, collaborate or report an issue, please use the suggestion button in our main nav.
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