Esther Chilton’s Writing Challenge
Esther’s challenge for last week was to write about pets. I’m late but never mind, I’m often late. You can read other peoples work and join in Esther’s new challenge here:
Dog Tragedy (shadorma prose)
When I was a girl of twelve we lived on a plot in Honeydew, Johannesburg. It was the second time we lived in this same house as my father had returned to his dream of farming part-time. The property was large with much of the ‘garden’ comprising wild veld grass and scrub bushes. My parents bought two pedigree Great Dane dogs because my mother had always liked this breed and there was a lot of space for them to run about. They were also supposed to be guard dogs but that didn’t pan out well because Harry and Lucy were exceptionally stupid animals. They were a lovely rich light brown colour, with friendly temperaments, and slobbery mouths. I have never been a big fan of slobber but I did like this gangly pair who were always delighted to see me and full of enthusiasm for life.
Some months later, my mother was asked to take another dog. The dog’s family was immigrating and they needed to rehome her. My mother agreed and the new dog soon settled into the family. Her name was Runt and she was partly Chihuahua and partly who knows what. I took a great liking to Runt and she became my dog.
The property adjacent to ours was a working sheep farm. The sheep were even more stupid than Harry and Lucy who took great pleasure in barking madly every time a sheep came into view on the other side of the fence. The sheep never knew what to do about the barking and just stood frozen until the dogs grew bored and moved on to new entertainment. Runt, however, was a clever dog. She also had the instincts of a hunter. Runt took a great interest in the sheep over the fence.
One morning, Harry and Runt were missing when we awoke. We called and called when breakfast was served but no dogs appeared. Eventually, Harry turned up in a bad state. He had been shot in the leg and was bleeding badly. My father had to take him to the vet for treatment. Runt never came home. Later that day, the farmer came to call. Runt had discovered a hole in the fence and she and Harry had wriggled through. Runt had led Harry in an attack on one of the lambs. The farmer, hearing the commotion, had shot at the dogs, killing Runt and injuring Harry. In those days, farmers defended their livestock by shooting any predators which is part of the reason why wild dogs and leopards are so endangered now. I was devastated when I learned the news and I’ve never had another dog since. We were told the lamb had died but there was never any proof of that.
keen prey drive
mixed breed chihuahua
looked for fun
found trouble
victim of a farmer’s anger
crossed the rainbow bridge
Tanka Tuesday
Colleen’s challenge was to use variants of the word yellow in a syllabic poem. You can read other poet’s entries here: https://tankatuesday.com/2026/06/04/tankatuesday-yellow-things/
Flowering Aloes (tanka)
organic gemstones
string of lemon quartz flowers
lifeblood of aloe
produced in heartwood of plant
basking in cool amber sun
CFFC – Yellow & The Flower Hour
These are the flower pictures that inspired my Tanka Tuesday poem above.
You can join in CFFC here: https://nofacilities.com/2026/06/08/the-crayola-box-of-8-yellow-cffc/
You can join in The Flower Hour here: https://secondwindleisure.com/2026/06/09/the-flower-hour-34-roses-in-memoriam/
roberta-writes.com 