7 Things About the Boy Next Door

Chapter 21

"One small crack does not mean that you are broken, it means that you were put to the test and did not fall apart." -Linda Poindexter

~Harmony~

Sitting on my bed with my back supported by a mountain of fluffy pillows, a steaming hot chocolate with precisely seven mini marshmallows swimming around the froth on my bedside table and fingers nimbly tapping away on my keyboard, I can't think of a better way to spend my morning.

Flash's large head appears from over the side of my bed sheets as he dumps it over my arm, halting all typing movements as he traps my elbow under his huge, slobbering head.

Feigning annoyance at my little old Flash, I try to scowl at him, yet a smile pulls at the corner of my lips as I look down at him, his grey eyes pleading with mine.

Sighing, I instantly cave under the pressure this dog puts on me for a walk and hit save on my work with a smile.

I swear he talks sometimes as his facial expressions are so colourful; I just feel like I understand his every request.

Sliding my laptop from my lap to the floor, I quickly throw back my hot drink and slither off my bed. As he sees me coming to a stand, Flash barks in excitement, limping over to the door as quick as he can.

I am extremely happy to announce that all of the puppy beds, food and tiny collars we purchased previous to Flash have been returned and replaced with items that fit a dog his size and age; a new collar and matching leash, some softer food for his old jaw, a huge, foam bed which should support his arthritic joints, toys that won't prove a chocking hazard and all in boy colours!

Taking quick steps to chase Flash out of my room before he reaches the stairs, I catch him as his front paw hits the first step. Holding onto his new camouflage print collar, I help him back down since the down trip is considerably more challenging than the way up for him and his three long legs.

It's hard to watch him struggle just doing normal activities like walking, sitting, standing and jogging, but I do the best I can to help him around, even if it means acting like a personal assistant to him.

Lots of changes have been underway this past week in the Spark's household concerning Flash. For starters, using the new shampoo with extra moisture for his dry skin we bought, he's had his first bath in god knows how long. The runoff came out brown with thousands of small, black dots mixed in; I didn't even want to know what those were. The sight was enough to make any average person gag a little, and to think I've been hugging him that that contaminated fur. I need an acid bath.

He didn't like the shower head very much though as he kept trying to bite at the water spray, but when I began to use the power of the water to massage his old, taught muscles, he began whimpering in bliss. I assume having that hot water blast against him is great for the muscles so I've decided it should be a weekly ritual, just for him because everyone knows Flash is my weakness.

So after his first shower, he came out smelling fresh and beautiful like eucalyptus. He obviously liked the smell of the shampoo so much because he decided to share it with me by shaking out his fur. The water droplets went flying in every direction, plastered on the mirror, dripping from the ceiling and absorbed into my clothes and skin.

I glowered at him and rung out the water from my shirt before changing. Coming downstairs in a new and most importantly dry outfit, I give him a pat and just happen to look down at his grotesquely deformed nails. Frowning down at the uncomfortable sight, I stupidly decided to put myself through the hell of trimming his long, gnarled nails. Damn dog wouldn't stop moving, trying to snatch his paw back as I held the special nail clippers to his toes proving it much harder than it should have been.