I have completed my 100 posts in a 100 days of 100 words challenge. My little story for Day 91 of my challenge was a rather sad one, which I will share again now as there is news of what happened next:
A sad tale of an old man and his dog. He used to have a wife and two dogs, now he has Buster. Then Buster went missing. The old man somewhat losing his grip on things, thought he’d walked the dog over the hill as usual and lost him. The whole village was alert, everyone on the lookout. Other dog walkers extended their range, friends and others walked for miles, not shouting, because Buster was deaf.
Where’s Buster? We still don’t know, but every time anyone goes out in the village, eyes are peeled for an ancient, deaf white dog.
Here is the sequel to the tale:
The villagers hunted everywhere, along the beach and in the dunes, across the salt marshes, up the hill and the fields beyond, in the woods by Folly Lane, in the ditches and dips, looking everywhere they went, trying to find the lost dog. Pictures of Buster were stuck to lamp-posts, dog-walkers hoped their hounds would sniff out the little white terrier, the searches continued as the days passed and hope began to dim.
Hope had more than dimmed, hope had virtually died when the joyous news flashed round – Buster was found! Buster was alive! The lost dog and owner reunited!