Inktober 12: The Clones

“Come ‘ere boy!”

I clapped my hands together as I faced my dog, a miniature poodle who was practically vibrating with energy. Opposite me, my girlfriend did the same. “Come on girl! You can do it! COME TO ME!”

We had bred out and deleted the need for biological reproduction in dogs generations earlier. All of them were now cloned from an original sample, created only when a family intended to adopt. Incapable of breeding, overpopulation was not an issue even on large spacecraft, and the dogs lived surprisingly long lives with an extended puppy-hood.

The golden-haired dog barked once at both of us and then bounded to my girlfriend happily, jumping up into her arms.

“Hey babe looks like you win. What was the name?”

“Candy. We’ll call her Candy!” I stooped in to kiss my girlfriend and she stretched up to kiss me back. Candy licked our chins.

“Alright girl, time to meet your momma!” I said, putting my arms out for the dog. My girlfriend handed Candy over and she frenetically waggled in the air, trying to wag her whole body and lick every inch of me she could reach. I hugged the dog and she calmed down, licking my collarbone. “Good girl. Good girl!”

“This was the best idea, Sweetie.” My girlfriend’s eyes nearly sparkled as she looked to me.

“I agree, babe,” I said, letting Candy down. “Come on, let’s head to our quarters. I wonder whose side of the bed Candy will take.”

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About Michael Robinson

An eclectic person living in a world rife with binaries, opposition, anger and pain and trying to find the spectra, love, happiness and catharsis within.
This entry was posted in Creative Writing, Flash Fiction, Inktober 2017, Short Fiction and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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