My current dog was a Yorkshire Terrier, as yappy and enthusiastic as any of his breed. My previous dog, Phil, had been a greyhound, sweet and gentle and disconcertingly intelligent. But greyhounds need to run, and by the time Phil died, my knees had put too many years on to make that kind of effort anymore. Small yappy dogs being the traditional province of old ladies, I yielded to the inevitable and adopted Jaeger.
Jaeger was dumb as a brick and ornery as a diaper rash, but he was good company and hella entertaining. He liked to investigate the tide line for interesting things that might have washed ashore. But some mornings, like today, I wanted to be the one to investigate interesting things. That's when I'd steer us up the beach toward the rock cliffs that were the current resting place of the king of the reptiles.
There's nothing particularly unusual about dragon skeletons. Manticore are uncommon, and the discovery of a sphinx will make the news, but dragon bones are common as muck. Still, the Oceanview Dragon was mine, and that made it special. I like to visit it. It made me feel part of a bigger world. Besides, at my age it's a comfort to look at things that are that much older than me.
The beach route had been Mary's idea in the first place--she'd conceived of a feud with a family on the next block and insisted we stop going past their house--but she preferred to stay well away from the cliff face. She had an irrational and irritatingly performative distrust of all mythofauna. When she saw today was going to be a dragon morning, she sighed hugely and made an exasperated humming noise in the key of "if you insist." That was pretty restrained for Mary. But as we got closer she got less restrained. "Oh, Hannah, look at how worked up Jaeger's getting. You can tell he senses something's wrong...."
This has been an excerpt from the Friday Fictionette for March 9, 2018. Subscribers can download the full-length fictionette (1543 words) from Patreon as an ebook or audiobook depending on their pledge tier.