HOWLS! It’s the weekend!
Bethany walked out to the bar’s patio with a tray expertly balanced on one hand. “Hey there Clifford! I thought I heard that distinctive howl.”
“I really don’t know why he feels the need to announce his presence here,” his keeper Archie said with a chuckle. He was being facetious, but Archie really loved it. In real life, Clifford – Cliff – suffered from social anxiety and rarely spoke outside the house. Pupping let him be free.
“I think howling’s just how he tells me he’s ready to order,” Bethany said with a wink “Be right back.”
Archie shook his head, and pulled his pup away from her legs. “You’re such a silly pup.”
Bethany went to drop off the beers at the right table, and returned. “Ok, so water for your pup’s bowl, and for you?”
“Let’s get him the sausage. For me, the wing sampler, with the pickle, and a pitcher of …whatever lager is good. Friend’ s joining me in a few.”
“Gotcha.”
“Be right out. Aww Clifford you are so cute. Good puppy.” She gave him a scritch. Clifford made more howly noises before Archie shushed him, and Bethany ducked back inside.
In this part of town, gay bars weren’t anything unusual, but the Hex was the most notorious of them all for where all the real freaks and perverts hung out. Archie was a regular. Clifford had charmed everyone in the bar, even those who weren’t used to pups. He notified people when they dropped their keys, guarded the women’s bathroom on request from creepy guys, and one one occasion, tackled a man who had been pick-pocketing phones from patrons on a crowded Saturday night. Now he had his own bowl that Hex kept behind the counter, and the staff knew him by name.
Clifford was wagging up a storm when the sausage arrived in a bed of comped fries. Archie cut the sausage and gave it to his boy, smiling at him lovingly as he enjoyed dinner. Archie settled in with his lager and his wings and his friend came soon after. What a beautiful evening, he thought. If heaven existed, it would look a lot like Hex.
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Captions are fictional.