The Saturday Morning Silence is Broken

The barking of a dog breaks the Saturday morning silence. I set the aluminum trashcan down and put the trash bag I am carrying in my left hand on top. I glance right and left but don't see any dog. I turn back on the street, pick up the morning paper and start toward the house.

The dog comes up behind me, barking all the time. He sounds vicious, so I continue to the house rather then taking another trashcan to the curb. I left the front door unlocked when I went out to get the trash. I open the door and go into the house. Only then do I look back to and see the dog standing in my driveway barking at me.

The dog large and completely black, he isn't a huge dog, but his barking sound vicious so I remain in the house. I'm not going to risk a dog bite by taking another can of trash to the curb. I stay in the house about five or ten minutes, then I go back out and get another trashcan to carry to the curb.

I don't see or hear the dog this time. He has disappeared as quickly as he appeared. The logical explanation, of course, is that the neighbor who owns him took him back in the house. Logical explanations are fine, except when it comes to using experiences similar to this in a short story or a poem. Logical explanations don't make good plots. I am going to use this experience in a short story or piece of flash fiction, but I don't think I'll use the logical explanation for the dog's disappearance.