Murphy and Stanley have thrown down the gauntlet... (we have to include the prompt, highlighted.)
Watching the courier haul the thing up the steps, Doodle deliberated on the delivery. This unnerved me. After all, Doodle himself had arrived in my house only yesterday in much the same manner. Not an order made by me, but a bequest from an aunt I never knew I had. How did she know I longed for a dog? How did the dog seem to know me already? How in the world was I going to feed the cute canine? There had been several hours of internal panic as I pondered this and now, another parcel.
I studied the package sitting on my porch. To say I was nervous would not begin to describe my feelings. It was about the same size as the one which brought Doodle, who was sitting watching me watching...that...
The brains were nearly frying; one dog was all good and well, but could this be another?
When I opened the box I was startled to find ... another box. Okay. When I opened that one, yet another. So it went for 87 unwrappings. FRAGILES. What fragiles? Then the note.
"For Rita. Always Give It Love. Ever, Sender."
Sender? Not even a name??? I glanced at Doodle. The eyes of the dog seemed to pull me in. If this note was meant to have come with him, it was certainly after the fact. I was in love the minute I unwrapped him. Then it dawned on me. The box which held Doodle had not been an animal crate but a standard courier box just like this! How could that be? When I had unwrapped the thing I had got such a shock I spilled my juice on him...
Something tugged at my memory cells. Wait up. At first glance I had thought he was real but on reflection he had been a paper model only. So real at first sight, the shock had made me spill...and then he WAS real!
Give it love. Was I meant to hug this final box? Barely the size of a matchbox, I picked it up and turned it round. How to open it? Doodle seemed never to have dropped his gaze. now his tail was tapping at the tip just a tad. Instinctively, I brought the little box up to my heart area and held it there, staring back into Doodle's big browns. There was a click under my hand.
The box had opened.
Doodle dashed forward in time to catch the chop which shot out of the container. The lid shut with no effort made on my part.
The dog of my dreams which could feed on the pantry of my heart? Best not look too closely into that Pandorah...
(c) Yamini Ali MacLean 2014