Grace Is A Walk In The Park: Flash Fiction.

This post is comprised of a story I’d written for a Christian radio station writing contest. I’m pulling it out of the file for two reasons: First, I needed a post today. Second, I didn’t win. So, it was just hanging out there and needed to be seen.

These flash fiction pieces are not deeply edited. In fact, they’re usually pretty sparse. But it is worth every penny of your subscription fees. If you don’t agree, let me know and I’ll arrange a refund.

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A Walk In The Park

“That’s it. She has to stay in her kennel while we’re at work.”

Lorraine rolled her eyes and silently scraped the left over dinner into the garbage disposal.

“I mean it. I’m tired of cleaning the rugs around here every night when we get home from work. I don’t know what she’s mad about, but this isn’t a latrine for sheep dogs. She’ll have to learn or pay the consequences.”

Setting the dish firmly into its place in the dishwasher, Lorraine added soap to the door panel and levered it into place. With the jab of a finger, she started it on its cycle; drowning Eric out in the process.

Standing alone in the kitchen, Eric realized he’d crossed some line with his wife while complaining about Shelby. She didn’t get it: the dog was ruining the house.

Intending to correct her mistaken stand on the dog’s bladder control issues, he marched into the living room where the old dog was getting her face rubbed by his wife.

Lorraine still didn’t make eye contact with Eric. Instead, she focused on Shelby, speaking softly while staring into the old dog’s eyes: “Yes, she wet on the rug. I don’t think she’s proud of it, Eric, but something’s wrong with her and she’s doing the best she can. Instead of punishing her, why don’t you try to figure out how to make it better? I think she’s earned that much from you after all these years.”

Eric stopped his march across the room and dropped into his recliner. Slamming himself back in the chair, he grabbed for the remote control. The gall of his wife siding with the dog was too much. The television hadn’t even flickered to life before he hit the power button again and climbed out of the chair.

“I’ll be in the garage.”

He’d hardly opened the back door when he found himself bashed into the frame, Shelby squeezing past him like a greased pig. Racing to the back fence, she started barking ferociously at the power lines in the alley.

Nuts. She’s barking nuts. If she would just stop the rug thing, I could put up with her bad behavior in every other way, even the barking. Now she’s just piling on. What am I going to do with that crazy dog?

Eric watched Shelby pace the yard and finally select a place to do her business. Grabbing the scoop, he moved it to the mulch pile before he went back in the house.

Shelby watched him from a corner of the yard. Eric realized she was aware of his anger and giving him some distance. Wagging her tail in surrender, she waddled her way up the sidewalk, stopping at the gate that would bring them to the park across the street.

“Not tonight, girlie. I spent too much time cleaning up after your nonsense and I just want to read my magazine.”

Shelby didn’t speak English, but she got the message. The tail slowly went to half-mast. The old dog left the gate and climbed the stairs, stopping on the landing to take a seat in their traditional snuggling spot.

Eric smiled. She was nuts, but they’d spent a lot of good time in that spot over the last twelve years. It was where they watched the sun set and the stars come out when he got home from work. Plopping down next to her, he put an arm around her and pulled her close.

Absentmindedly stroking her ear, he realized that she didn’t have many miles left on her odometer. She sure felt good close against him on this fall evening. After a few minutes of sitting on the top step, he relaxed and started to wonder what was making her soil the rug.

Feeling her nuzzle against his chest, he looked down at the old Sheltie and realized that it didn’t matter. He just plain loved her. Her ridiculous barking, the tearing up magazines, the demands for walks: all of it was just her nature as a dog. Can’t fight nature, can we?

He realized that he owed her Grace. The Pastor had spoken on the topic Sunday, but it didn’t register with him until that moment. He wasn’t perfect by a long shot, and God seemed to forgive him. Over his sixty years, he’d broken every rule in the book, and yet he knew God still loved him. Didn’t he owe that to this little dog who looked up to him with such loving eyes?

For the first time in his life, Eric Morgenson fully understood the concept of Grace: it was unconditional forgiveness based on love. Eric didn’t have to earn it from God, and he certainly didn’t deserve it. God didn’t hold your stupidity and mistakes against you any more than you should hold others against them. Including incontinent old dogs. We all needed some grace.

“You stay here, Shelby. I’m going to grab the leash. We’ve got time for the park after all.”

Grace. It was a walk in the park.

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