Leftovers

Written for the Daily Flash Fiction Challenge with a word limit of 300.


The prompts: This story must contain the words: rose, home, secret


Leftovers

The large furry head rose slowly up and above the edge of the dining room table. It stopped when the eyes were exactly level with the large plate of turkey leftovers. Drool spilled over the edge of the perfectly stationary dog’s mouth. There was no helping that.

Max knew that time was of the essence. He had to strike quickly while everyone was out of the room. Still, to rush in would almost certainly result in failure. Failure meant a hail of “Bad Dog” and banishment to the backyard.

So far, all was going according to plan. He made sure he was last seen sleeping in one of the back rooms. Alibi – Check.

He waited until the target was on location and the dining room empty. Logistics – Check.

Now came the most important step, the secret to success. Ninja-like, he gently climbed up onto a chair and then leaned over as far as he could. He had to be positioned just right or else the plate would be moved leaving evidence of his crime behind.

Carefully, he lowered his head until his chin was almost resting on the edge of the plate. Without taking his eyes off of the entrance to the dining room, he began to eat. There was no time for chewing; that was for amateurs anyway. Huge chunks could be seen from the outside as they slide down the inside.

With the plate clean, he figured he was home free. He had to be in the back room before they returned.

That was when he saw it. For Napoleon, it was Waterloo. For Max, it was stuffing. It was not part of the plan so he called an audible.

Just one bite.

“Bad Dog!”

Outside, he burped up a turkey wing. Mission accomplished.