Oneshots

A Golden Home for a Golden Dog

   "Once upon a time, a beautiful princess was walking in a forest." Justine, a young girl said slowly, "Yes, that'll do. What do you think, Goldie?"

Justine Harrindore was on the father's acreage, washing her golden retriever, Goldielocks, in an old wash tub. Goldie was around 2 years old. Justine had got her when she was biking to school, half a mile away, when she saw a stray pup and brought her home. Goldie barked happily. Justine giggled, then smiled. Her parents didn't like Goldie, but Justine was allowed to keep her on one account. She had to take care of her all by herself.

"There you are, Goldie, nice and clean." Justine grinned.

She lugged the dog out of the tub and toweled her off. After Goldie was nice and dry, Justine picked up the tub and poured the water on the plants. "Yep, nice and clean indeed." she said cheerily, scratching Goldielocks behind the ear.

"JUSTINE! COME HERE RIGHT THIS INSTANT!" a voice from the house shrieked.

Justine ran as fast as she could back home. "What is it!? Is someone hurt?!" she demanded, her eyes wide with concern.

"Your dog wrecked my new high heels!" her mother shrieked.

"Not Goldie, she wouldn't! Plus I was just outside washing her. It was probably Terminator, I always knew he was a demon." Justine argued.

"Don't pawn this off on the Terminator, your dog did it!" her brother, Tom yelled from his room.

But Justine was used to this. Her mother had her heels wrecked almost every week since they got the cat. Her mother would keep screaming until her father promised to get her even better heels.

"Justine, enough is enough. The dog's got to go." her father said in his commanding voice.

This had never happened before. Justine started to worry. "But Dad,-" she started.

"No." he said, "It's going."

That night, Justine cried herself to sleep. It isn't fair. The cat did it all. she thought angrily. How could I let this happen? She knew that she had lost, and that she should try to get her golden retriever a golden home. The next morning, Justine spent a lot of money buying paper, pencils , markers and crayons to make posters. The posters read: DOG FOR SALE TO GOOD HOME: GOLDEN RETRIEVER, BLUE EYES, NAME: GOLDIELOCKS, 35$. "Perfect," Justine murmured, reading the poster for the thousandth time.

"I only wish I didn't have to put them up, eh Goldie." she said sorrowfully, rubbing the dog behind the neck.

Goldie started to whine as if she knew she had to leave. "It's okay, Goldielocks." Justine sniffled, "We'll just have to . . . adapt. C'mon girl, lets put up these posters. It's time to go."

Justine biked to town, Goldie at her side. Once they arrived at their destination, Justine locked up her bike at the padlock next to her school, Gwen Valley Academy. Then, they walked to the town square, and on every pole they could find, they put a poster on until they ran out. "I sure hope this is enough posters, we could always make more . . ." Justine said, looking around her.

And that's when Goldie gave her a look that said, loud and clear, "Seriously?"

"You're right, I might have a little bit too many . . ." Justine giggled.

Goldielocks gave her another look, this one said "Ya think?"

They got some milkshakes from the local burger bar - well Justine did at least - and then they left.

The next day, Justine woke up to the loud noise of the telephone ringing. "Justine honey, it's for you!" her mother yelled from in the kitchen.

"Coming mother!" she yelled back groggily.

Who could that be? she thought as she slowly staggered to the kitchen. Unless . . . Her walking became jogging, then running. Justine grabbed the phone from her mother's hands. "Hello, Justine Harrindore, what would you like?" she asked breathlessly, "Uh-huh. Yes. Yep. Okay. Thank you. Will nine o'clock on Saturday work? Great. See you then. Remember the 35$. Bye."

"Who was that?" her mother demanded, her eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"My dog's future owner." Justine called wearily, wandering up the stairs.

When Justine returned to the golden retriever, she started sobbing. But she couldn't change the fact that Goldie had to go.

~~~

24 years later, Justine was walking past a farm to the Harrindore Pet Clinic, her workplace, when something - no, someone - caught her eye. Goldie. Justine stood there for around an hour just watching the old dog play. Then Justine smiled, and walked away.

THE END

A/N: post writing from grade 6 bc i can