Neighborhood Tramp
Neighborhood tramp enticed Lancelot
There is a sweet and beloved dog in our neighborhood. Lancelot is his name. Everybody loves him and likes to give him soothing strokes, scratch his ears, play with him, whatever makes him happy we give him because we love him so much.
He is a Newfoundland, beautiful guy. We all wanted his puppies when the owners took him in to proliferate, so we put in our bids and four of us reserved a puppy. Problem was, Lancelot would not touch any of the fine bred females offered to him. No matter how much the owners tried, he would just turn away and look longingly out to the forest of many trees.
There was something out there that Lancelot wanted. His owners were getting quite frustrated. They knew he was no longer content with his daily routine and friends that loved him.
One evening, as all in the neighborhood gathered for a barbecue, we heard whining barks coming from the forest and it drove Lancelot crazy. He managed to break free from all of us and took off running to the forest. He did not come back for hours till he felt obligated to and wanted attention.
We knew there was a neighborhood tramp, a feral dog that hung around during the day. Any time Lancelot was around, she would become braver and flirt with him. But, not just Lancelot – she was after all the male dogs in the neighborhood. She didn’t care which one she could entice, she just wanted to capture them all.
It was not long before Lancelot, and some of the other male dogs, spent more and more time away from the neighborhood, chasing after that tramp. We all prayed Lancelot would come back, but his time with the tramp seemed to be more important to him. We began to feel as if he no longer loved or even cared for us. So, we did the best we could without him. He is writing his own story and it does not include us.
Eventually we got used to it and no longer looked for him to come home. No telling just how many puppies he has out there, all feral and wild. We miss Lancelot, but one cannot hold him back – if there is a tramp around, that’s what he will go for. It is an animal instinct.
We still gather for barbecues or picnics. We talk about the good old days when Lancelot was always around and loved us. You just cannot trust feral dogs, they don’t know what real love is.
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© 2017 Phyllis Doyle Burns
I have always liked to write.It is important to me that writing comes from my heart and soul. When writing poetry, if I do not feel a spiritual connection to what I am writing on, I will discard it and go on to something I can connect with on a spiritual level. I live in the moment, I write from the past or beyond the veil. When writing fiction I go with whatever inspires me at the moment - it could be funny, sorrowful, romantic or sometimes done with the use of colloquial language from mountain folk or other cultural regions.
I began writing content online in 2007, starting with BellaOnline - A Voice For Women, where I was the Native American Editor, Folklore & Mythology Editor, and the Appalachian Editor. I also wrote articles forThe Examiner, Daily Two Cents, and Yahoo. I am currently an author on HubPages.
Most of what I write takes a lot of research and I love it. Even if it is a fictional story, I will research for accuracy in whatever it takes to make my characters, their era, their location, etc. become realistic to the reader.
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That instinct is as strong with animals as it is with us. Lets hope old Lancelot is happy and alive with his own family. Enjoyed .
So true. Thank you, Tony.
Hate to say it Phyllis, I am much the same way….lol…. great read
My Goodness, Kurt! As Tony says, it is also human instinct. Thanks for reading, glad you enjoyed it.
An interesting story, Phyllis. Lancelot will probably return when the neighborhood tramp is off heat…lol. Then you can all enjoy his company until the next time. Sounds a lot like human males though. Well written.
Good grief – must all you men say that? LOL Yes, I know it is human male instinct, but, lordy! … LOL Glad you enjoyed the story. Thanks, John.