Wednesday's Words on a Friday

 

The original Words for Wednesday was begun by Delores and eventually taken over by a moveable feast of participants when Delores had computer troubles. Sadly, Delores has now closed her blog forever due to other problems.

The aim of the words is to encourage us to write. A story, a poem, whatever comes to mind.

If you are posting an entry on your own blog, please let us know so we can come along to read it and add a few encouraging words.

This month the words/prompts are supplied by messymimi and can be found here

This week's words/prompts are: 

1. push 2. leash 3. shelf 4. help 5. talk 6. mail 

and a photo. 

Here is my story:

“Help! Someone please, help!”

I heard the cry and went running down the street, turning the corner to see a boy tugging desperately at a leash which appeared to be attached to a fence. When I got closer, I saw the leash was actually going through a gate that had pulled itself closed, a large dog was clipped to the leash and had raced through the gate when the wind blew it open and then of course it had blown shut again with the boy on one side and the dog on the other. He didn’t dare to let go of the leash in case the dog ran off.

“Can you manage to hold on?’ I asked him. “I’ll try to get the gate open.” I pulled hard, but it seemed to be stuck. I had an idea. “I’ll use this old chair to get over the fence and push the gate from the other side. Will your dog bite me?” “Oh no,” said the boy, “Scruffy never bites anyone.” I quickly climbed up and jumped down the other side. A huge Old English Sheepdog was pushing against the gate already, but had somehow managed to drop the latch that held it closed. I scratched behind his ears and he held out a huge paw for me to ‘shake hands’. I coaxed him far enough from the gate that I was able to lift the latch and push it open.

Reunited, dog and boy were very grateful for my help and after exchanging names, we went our separate ways. Arriving home, I reached for the shelf where the mail was placed after delivery and went through to the kitchen. “Did you have a good walk dear?” asked my wife Colleen. “I did, and even got in a bit of a run,” I told her. “Oh George,” she said, “you’re only just out of hospital, you shouldn’t be running!” I reassured her it was only a few yards and told her what had happened.

“We need to do something about that old property,” she said. “The gate has never been properly fixed and now your dad is in the nursing home, I think we should talk to him about fixing things up and selling the place.” “You’re right,” I said. “I’ll go and talk to him tomorrow.”