Once upon a time, there was a dog who insisted on wallowing in the flower beds. The Master and Mistress scolded him when he did it, and the Mistress praised him when he didn’t do it. The Master put big lumpy rocks in the flower beds to discourage the wallowing, but the dog pushed the rocks aside or curled himself around them.

The Master was particularly proud of the hosta garden, which was, indeed, a thing of beauty. He took particular pains to roust the dog out of this large bed.

One day, the Master said, “Well, he can be taught. I believe I’ve finally trained him to stay out of that hosta bed.”

The Mistress congratulated him, and petted the dog and gave him a bone.

Then the truth came out: The dog had, in fact, been trained to sneak into the center of the hosta bed and wallow there, with his secret sanctum screened from sight by the hostas at the edge of the patch.

And the Master and Mistress solemnly agreed that, when the dog passes — by whatever method — that will be a well-fertilized hosta bed, indeed.

The End

It being Tuesday, I’m posting at Fatal Foodies on the topic of The Deadly Microwave of Fatal Doom.

A WRITING PROMPT FOR YOU: What is your main character’s favorite flower?

MA