Dare to be bad They said! Challange excepted!

Here is me daring to be bad if not down right horrible, but I have writers block and why not share my horrible ridiculously short story with everyone else. They say when you are not writing, write anyways dare to be bad never stop writing. So here is the beginning of what will be many short stories to come. If there is anyone reading this thank you and I am sorry!

This very short story is about my Dog a very noble dog Sr. Winston Churchill and his pea size brain. ( I really do love my dog to death) He was right in front of me when I was trying to get inspired to write so I thought why not write about my dog.

A dog named Winston

There once was a dog named Winston he sat an chewed on his bone at the very edge of my bed. The constant chewing noise drove me crazy if only he could chew quitter. He looks at me while he is chewing as if he knows this is driving me up the wall. Sometimes I wonder what goes on in the pea size brain of his. If there is something I know for certain is that he loves his bone and wants anything I am eating. He doesn't know what I am eating or if he will even like it but he knows he wants it. "Maybe if I stare at her long enough" he thinks to himself "she will give in and give me some… nope that didn't work maybe I'll put my paw on her and place my head on her arm she couldn't possibly say no then right. Right! Yesss she finally gave in… oh yuck what is that smell I don't want that." So He drops it on the bed near my feet and walks back to the edge of my bed. After all that he just drops it on my clean bed and struts away to lay in the sun. Little brat. Back up on the edge of my bed now continuing on that god for saken bone of his. Chewing and spitting chewing and spitting he continues this until he finishes the bone. Now being wiped out from the continuous chewing and spitting he stretches his little Beagle/Chua Hua legs out and yawns making a little yelp sound and goes to sleep. Laying around him is the remains of the bone he did not eat. Now I am left with having to clean up after him. If only dogs could clean up after themselves! Point of this strange little story is that there is none. I just felt like writing about my dog.

Meet Winston