writing doodle - day 6 - word count 660

"A bitch is a truly expensive proposition." I sighed.  "Special diets.  Jewelry, if you can call it that.  Definite time commitment."  I ran my left hand over my scalp.  Why had I let Belinda, the cosmetology student talk me into shaving my had when my hair was only just beginning to thin?  If it grows back, I wanted it to look like it did before, less the grey hair that had been showing up uninvited.  In the name of good sportsmanship, I've let females trap me.  Most of the time, I enjoy being caught.  Not this morning.  The weekend had been a trial and getting out of the house alone had been a battle of the wills; I almost lost.  The only way I could possibly feel more trapped and out of control would be if there were mandatory government interference.  Because I needed to verify my personal freedoms were still in place, I googled to find out if it was customary to file paperwork at the county to solidify the relationship; it was.  "Shit. I forgot to get the license."

Manny pushed a cup of revoltingly cold, overly sweetened coffee toward me.  "It will get better.  You will both adjust. I adjusted."

The asshole had the balls to smile when he said that.  It wasn't that long ago that I heard about having to give up all of the questionable contacts in his cell phone.  

"Right."  I took a sip and poured the contents into the dying plant on top of my file drawer.  "One night and now I'm committed.  Fuck."

"Gabe, if I can do it, you can do it.  Besides, Nieves talks back.  A lot.  All of the time she has something to say.  Hazel doesn't talk.  Well, not much." He grimaced when he said his wife's name.  

No, Hazel didn't talk much in the presence of strangers.  But a look, a sidelong glance and I knew that I wasn't living up to my side of the bargain. The list of things on my side of the bargain were limitless.  I'd even talked to Mistress Heidi at Beginner's Night about rules and what should be expected.  No way around it, I was screwed.  And not in a good way.

"Gabe, you've entered into a lifetime commitment.  Twenty-four hours a day, you are responsible for Hazel.  You determine everything for her: when and what she eats, how much exercise she gets, who her friends are, what you two do together."

She pushed her index finger into my chest and said, "The key to being a real and true master is knowing in your heart that you chose this. Now change y our mind set accordingly."  She swatted my ass hard enough it stung.  "Now go back to your girl."

Once again, it wasn't right to ask her out or even see if she was involved with anyone.  If there hadn't been an audience, I might have  hung my head.  Even with an audience of eight, there was no way I was going to hang my hear or slump my shoulders.  

What happened to my game?  When had it abandoned me?  

Some days I wonder if I can dress myself, realize that I wear uniforms to work most of the time, and am profoundly grateful.  I can go weeks at a time eating the same thing, Campbell's Hungry Man soup with cheese and crackers. The only vacations I've taken since I was twenty-five were based on funerals, weddings (mine and those of others), and a hospitalization or two.  Long term planning was never something I was especially good at it nor did I particularly want to be.

"Okay, let's talk about the importance of regular medical checkups.  Even when we think we're healthy..."

I reached down and scratched between Hazel's ears.  "I'll make an appointment for Monday with a real doctor.  Promise."

It was going to be a long night, and not my favorite kind of a long night.

~~~

total word count 660

please note: since this is more of less on the fly and I can't find the outline again (sounds a lot like November, I'm sure), I am taking liberties:
1) the old man hasn't died, just cannot take on the care of a young dog
2) no puppies for the puppy ... I am in love with a dog who is NOT Hazel - but can't buld him in ... at least not yet