PASSIONATE RATIONS

I’m taking an on-line writing course. For our first assignment last week, we were tasked with writing a 500-word piece in which setting was of primary importance. This week, it’s two 250-word character profiles. I love reading about characters and (separately from my class) I even started writing a food-related story involving a certain special character which I thought I’d share with you here. What’s copied below is as far as I’ve gotten. Although I have some ideas where I’m taking this, your comments and ideas are welcome.

Bully-Bob and the Culinary Canine Caper

Bully-Bob had a problem. He’d just eaten the lipstick out of his mistress’ handbag, which she had foolishly left on the floor next to the couch, and he was feeling a little ill. Bright red smears stained his drooping muzzle, alarming evidence of his indiscretion. It was her favorite shade—Candy Apple Kiss—but he supposed she’d prefer to wear it herself. It hadn’t tasted at all like either candy or an apple. He hung his head in shame and did not look up when he heard the inevitable shriek.

“Bully! What…? Oh my God, you ate my lipstick!”

He heard Caroline rush over, saw the tips of her red patent-leather pumps come into view, and dropped his head even lower. She knelt, picking up the violated plastic tube. “Bad dog,” she reprimanded and lifted his chin. Shocked by the color’s blood-red vividness, she softened. “Are you okay?” she asked. Then, to herself, “Lipstick isn’t toxic, is it? No, it can’t be. Right? Of course, it’s not meant to be eaten in large chunks. Oh geez!”

She called out to her sister in the other room, “Darlene? Darlene, I’m going to need some paper towels!” Bully-Bob felt better when Darlene rushed in and promptly burst out laughing. He’d always liked Darlene. “Silly-Bob” she called him, for reasons that were abundantly apparent at this particular moment.

The sisters cleaned him up and called the veterinarian, who assured them that Bully, an English bulldog of long and sturdy lineage, likely would survive the incident, if with a little indigestion and temporary facial discoloration.

He hadn’t meant to eat the lipstick. Well, not initially anyway. No. He’d been overcome by the lingering smell of the artichoke langostino from Pepe’s and thought, perhaps, that some had escaped the doggie-bag Caroline had brought him last night.

Caroline, to Bully-Bob’s never-ending delight, was a food critic. Last night he had been, as he often was, the beneficiary of one of her many culinary excursions. She had tucked the doggie bag of leftovers into her over-large bag. So, it was really her fault this had happened at all. Unable to find the langostino, or even a bit of day-old artichoke cream sauce, Bully-Bob had resorted to the lipstick. Any self-respecting dog would have done the same.