PATIENT BOB HAS CLEANED THE PREVIOUS RESIDUE of wanton puppy escapades away. Augie Doggie sleeps soundly in the parlor; the quiet, profound.
BBZZZZZ . . .a distant chainsaw din rips through the silence, yanking Augie from slumber land, setting off a chain of barking.
Not much smell: pollen, sweetness.
The buzzing mass hovers under the ceiling, crosses the room. Augie follows, jumping, barking. Catches the curtains under paw, they fall. The smidgen moves faster, looping, banging against the walls. Augie knocks pictures off the walls. Bob arrives home, out flies the buzzer. Augie sits, decompresses. Bob’s brow furrows. He sighs.