Eclectic Corner #13, Loyalty – Week 2 – Fictional Writing

Eclectic Corner #13,  Loyalty – Week 2 –  Fictional Writing


What is Eclectic Corner?

  • Briefly it is a word themed event spanning a month.
  • The first 3 weeks of the month will consist of weekly differing category relating to that word.
  • They are posted each Tuesday.

The 3 parts to each ‘theme/word’  each week over the month will be scheduled as follows:

  • 1st Tuesday of each month, Week 1 = Photography
  • 2nd Tuesday of each month, Week 2 = Poetry or written piece (specifics announced at time)
  • 3rd Tuesday of each month, Week 3 = Favourite related quote
  • Between week 3 & 4 you get the chance to vote 3 times on your favourite posts throughout the month just passed.
  • Week 4 is my Tea Time blog hop party where I feature the top 3 most popular posts voted for.  You can find out about the Tea Party blog hop here:  Tea Time

You can find fuller deails about Eclectic Corner on my page which gives a guide on how to enter:  Eclectic Corner


A Brief Guide

  1. Please tag your post Eclectic Corner # (whatever number it is)
  2. Please pingback to this page
  3. If you would kindly leave a message & or your URL of your related post in the comments section that enables me to get back faster to you.
  4. Please tell others
  5. Grab a badge to display
  6. Make sure to look out for when voting starts and ends plus the Tea Time Party date.
  7. VERY IMPORTANT – Please make sure to pop your URL in to the InLinkz page which is at the bottom of this page, many people forget and get missed out of the voting & fun!



noun, plural loyalties.
the state or quality of being loyal; faithfulness to commitments orobligations.


faithful adherence to a sovereign, government, leader, cause, etc.


an example or instance of faithfulness, adherence, or the like:

a man with fierce loyalties.
Teddy & feet

Teddy & feet

I have used this photograph a couple of times.  The first time was a poem and I was encouraged by other bloggers to use this photograph as a writing prompt.  I am doing so here again, because to me it ties in again with loyalty.

Here is the first post which included this photograph:  My Master’s Feet

Here is the second post, of which I am going to copy the fictional story that I wrote to go with this photograph:  There will be a better day I promise, dog!

The prior story that was written:

There will be a better day, I promise, Dog!

Dog had led a colourful life and so too his Owner so far.  His Owner had surmounted many challenges, living with an alcoholic father who submitted a tirade of abuse and sometimes physical violence against Dog’s Master.  Dog would be kept in the bedroom unless out for his usual walk, for it was not safe to be left to roam around the house with ‘him’ around.  Every time the shouting started or the cries could be heard, Dog would hurl himself against the door, his small heart beating frantically as claws shredded at the wood, desperate to get out and protect beloved Master.

The noise would calm, go quiet, those were the worst moments as Dog would wait for the door to open.  Many a time he would lie on the bed, licking his Master’s face covered in striations of hard scarring caused by burns from a prior ‘moment’ and taste his salty tears.  He would whimper in confusion feeling his Owner’s arms clasp around him, closetting themselves away in moderate safety, door locked, the mother of the house gone a long time ago.

The scars upon his Master’s face had been brought about by ‘another’ one of those times, an iron finding fleshy surface by the hand of alcohol ridden parent upon young skin, skin that would tarnish it seemed his Master’s future, for those that would see him, would gasp.

One day it came to pass, Dog was taken for a walk, his Owner with small bag in hand.  Dog would sniff for treats, for food and glance up then forward expecting his usual walk.  It was not to be, not today, not any day.

The smoke plummeted towards the skies behind as Dog glanced back whist his Master’s boots faltered for just a moment.  His once home seemed brighter, a snaky swirl of smoke and flames licked at the windows, a crackling of glass heard upon his keen ears as a sharp tug came upon his collar,  “Life will be different now” said his Master as day upon day would be filled with travel until destination was finally found.

Dog sat in his new home of freedom, glancing to either side as the sandy garden before them was bordered by wooden piers, long stilts of wood leading up to platforms where upon humans seemed to walk and stare upon the glistening waters as the sun shone down, pointing occasionally to a passing boat.  Twitching nose took in the salty air as the water from the sea came in gentle waves, back and forth trying to beckon him but he was not at present tempted, yet not scared either.

Behind him was the high wall, that led to the path that bordered tourist shops, the promenade, not your usual shops, just cafes and galleries, the only way up were ‘those steps’.  He had been carried down those stairs, a shelter of cardboard, coat and blankets made up under the canopy of wooden stilts bordering the shopping path.   He loved his new home, no more shouting, freedom to roam his sandy patch and his Master happy.

Dog’s Owner would go up’ those steps’, clinking his shiny coins, just a few, which seemed to get less and less as each day passed.  The faithful dog would wait, sniffing the steps, jerking up as his wet nose met the cold metal, full of large holes.  Once or twice he would put his paws on them and jump, his claws slipping through the metal, the hard sides hurting doggie flesh, he would whimper and go straight through to the other side, mission unsuccessful.

Sitting obediently his bottom upon the sand people would pass at the top and walk by, sometimes point, the odd person, usually a child would come down, give him a pat then play at tossing stones upon the water.  Dog would wait for his Master’s feet, only relaxing when those worn thick brown boots could be seen, a few goodies clasped within his hands that both of them would share.

These gifts it seemed got less and less, meals less frequent, the portions smaller, the glittering coins disappeared to reveal an empty pouch.

“I will have to go rummaging in bins or perhaps, just perhaps” said his Owner a furrow of concern melting in to an increasing crevice that would form between his scarred brow.  Scarf was wrapped around his face, come rain or shine, shielding his face from onlookers as he would ascend ‘those stairs’ this day with empty belly and a weakness from outdoor living making him weary and desperate.

Dog would wait, he waited and waited, he heard a shout “Oi what are you doing, thief thief, catch that man he just stole my wallet”.  Dog didn’t understand, but his ears twitched, whimpering as the shouting reminded him of those days, days he thought he had put past behind him.

Nightfall would come, he would crawl to his bed now matted in seaweed and wait for sunrise, returning to the same spot at the bottom of the stairs, waiting for his Master’s feet.  He waited day after day, rummaging on rubbish and scraps thrown over the stone wall above, yet it was not enough, becoming weaker and weaker every day as he waited.

One morning he did not make it to the stairs, trembling legs weak with malnourishment tried to lift his now emaciated body which barely lifted from the ground, a small whimper came from whiskery lips as he laid his head down once more, pale lids covering his eyes, maybe sleep would bring forth a better day.

A deep sleep came upon Dog, a beautiful sleep, his body feeling like he  was upon the warm waves, floating back and forth, no pain, no pain anymore and the light, a bright light shining and warm, coming towards him, finally things were going to be better, and all he heard was….

“I think he will survive, he has been put on a drip, he has no chip, there is no way to find his Owner, and you say you found him on the beach half dead?”

A gentle female voice and young child in chorus said “we did” stirring Dog to open one eye, that warm sun being a bright vet’s light shining upon him.

“Look he’s awake, he’s awake” came excited youth “can we keep him mummy, please?”


For Week 2 of Eclectic Corner’s Writing Event I would like you to continue this story, here is my attempt…..



Dog did indeed survive, it seemed that he had been picked up by a family out on a weekend walk by the beach.  This family consisted of a young girl and teenage boy plus mother and father.  Due to Dog having no ID at all he was kept in for a couple of days, a few posters put out but there was not much hope that his Owner would be found and indeed he was not.

After a short period in a temporary holding kennels the family had visited and asked on many an occasion to be able to take Dog home, eventually they were allowed.

Dog found life to be very very different, there was no shouting like in his earlier days, just a different kind of loud sporadic converse it seemed at times between the young Master and young girl, yet Dog sensed love between them though this happened.  Apart from that the noise was full of birds waking him up in the morning and a gentle ramble of Radio 1 in the kitchen and family chatter.

Dog now had a basket made of soft bedding, it smelt of nothing, it took a while not to fall asleep to the smell of seaweed and salt.  The thing dog found most difficult in his new life was not hearing the sound of the sea, that rushing back and forth, hypnotic that upon many occasion would send him in to dream land.

On the up side, Dog would have a visitor in his basket often, that being the young girl, who took a prickly looking thing and ran it along his coat, it didn’t hurt, though he expected it to.  Sometimes she would curl up and put her arms around Dog until the Mistress of the house made grumbling sounds, making the young girl get up.

Dog was used to foraging for food, it was odd to now have a bowl full of food.  At first he wasn’t sure, glancing back and forth, not wanting a beating for eating something that was not his.  Eventually the young Master would say something as the family watched with concern at him not eating and knelt by his bowl, picking up a few biscuits and hand feeding it to Dog.  Dog liked this and would sometimes wait for the young Master to come in again, until hunger got the better of him and his snuffly nose would meet the depths of his crunchy biscuit breakfast.

The young Master was responsible for taking him out for walks.  Dog didn’t know how often, but after quite a few meal times they would head down to the beach early morning, the young Master would take him down ‘those’ steps.  Dog ran to his usual corner where he once slept and sniffed around.  There was one dirty top still tucked right back in the corner near where dog slept, but nothing else.

Dog would rush over and take a long deep sniff of this treasured item, picking it up in his mouth, looking with hopeful large eyes towards his young Master.  The Master would dip his brow, saying “nothing here Buster” (his now new name) and wave back towards the corner from where Dog had come.  The top would be dropped back in place until another time, when Dog hoped he would find it and perhaps something else again.

Over time Dog got used to his new family, he easily came to love his new family, finding something in everyone that would make him feel special and in turn he could give his love a hundred fold back.

Dog still had the habit of sniffing and foraging for food, taking any opportunity like a starved street dog to hoover along the kitchen floor until the Mistress of the house seemed to raise her voice and he was swiftly escorted to his basket, where he would sit licking around his whiskery lips anything that he might be stuck there.

One early morning he was leashed up, the sun was bright as they headed down to the water’s edge.  The rays of the sun bounced of the water glaringly bright but somehow re-assuringly  across the ripples as Dog stood at the edge of ‘those’ steps.  Loving large hands gripped his torso as he was escorted down, his young Master saying “go on Buster, go do your usual”.  Leash was off and Dog was free to roam around except he would go back to ‘that’ corner every time, sniffing and occasionally whimpering.  This time however was different, the dirty top was no more, Dog sniffed and scurried around frantically, scratching at the stones, trying to pull them away incase it was buried.

The young Master saw Dog’s odd behaviour and walked over, wrapping his hands once again about his torso, escorting him up the stairs, yet Dog wriggled and thrashed about in distress in his arms “woooah what’s up Buster, it’s not there anymore, time to move on chap” as he plonked him down, the dog half falling out amidst his commotion.

There was no time to put a lead on as Dog scooted off ahead, nose to the floor, like it was glued to the pavement, moving with a speed that at first amused his young Master.  A shout was then heard “hey Buster, slow down, let me put on your lead, hey waiiiit” he shouted as Dog continued in frenzied motion to move away and ahead.

The young Master watched in the distance having tried to catch up, moving in to a light jog so as not to knock in to other people milling about.  Lined along the side of the walkway were benches dotted in places.  The young Master slowed to still for a moment as in the distance Dog leapt up on a young man, the man having been looking the other way and sat on a bench, seemed to stiffen, then reach out, clasping Dog in his arms.

The young Master shouted with worry “hey that’s my dog, Buster, stop, get down, don’t hurt him he’s just playing” frowning as he then ran to see what was going on.  Dog buried his nose in to the young man’s top, sniffing and licking, his eyes glancing to the youths left trouser pocket, seeing a small bit of ‘that’ top poking out, lifting his head hearing his young Master’s voice, he barked, barked loudly as if beckoning him to come over, both young men now opposite each other, most likely of the same age, different backgrounds and just one Dog stood between…..


Remember you can enter each category of each week as many times as you wish and photography can be entered in the 3rd week, the only limits are you imagination and the final close date which this time around will be on Saturday 18th July.  Voting will be from the 18th July – 22nd July and the Tea Time a little later, being posted on Thursday 23rd July as I then go away on holiday a couple of days after, so Eclectic Corner will take a break for the rest of July and August, re-starting in September 2015.

PS please remember the Tea Party goes on all month until the next one, so please feel free to hop in on the Tea Party if you fancy.  You can find the relevant links to the ongoing Tea Party here:

Tea Party Post

InLinkz page

If you wish to enter, please press the button below and enter your URL.  Make sure to vote, or pop back when more entries are put in and say ‘hi’ to the others.  You might want to tag your post Eclectic Corner #13 Loyalty.

PS Don’t forget to enter your posts in to the InLinkz please 😀

Thank you for your time, Justine xx


  7 comments for “Eclectic Corner #13, Loyalty – Week 2 – Fictional Writing

  1. July 8, 2015 at 7:22 AM

    Wonderful story Justine. I remember this from the first time around. It really is beautifully heartfelt and your second part conveys such loyalty – just lovely xx.

    Liked by 1 person

    • July 8, 2015 at 8:22 AM

      thank you glad you like 😉 It will be interesting to see any takes on this x

      Liked by 1 person

      • July 8, 2015 at 8:24 AM

        Yes I’ve been thinking about it. It might take a while to come up with something good. X


    • July 8, 2015 at 8:22 AM

      i generally cry when i read doggy stories lol

      Liked by 1 person

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