Author Showcase #2 – @NonnieJules #RRBC #RWISA

(DISCLAIMER: Hi, my name is Author, Nonnie Jules. I was commissioned by Cinderella Flores to write his story. Now, he’s a good story-teller and he paid me nicely for this gig, but I must make a statement: I am the GOOD MOMMIES’ MOMMY and I do not condone profanity of any kind, so what you are about to read are Cinderella’s words, not mine. Typically, I would have turned down such a job, but the pay was just too good. I felt Cinderella’s pain and so I, just this once, stepped into an arena which I’m not usually comfortable in. That being said, I do hope you will enjoy Cinderella’s story.)



It sure is hard sitting around all day, watching cars go by, people walk by, squirrels run by…and all I can do is sit. Now, watching the squirrels, that’s the hardest of them all. But, what can I do about it?

Some would think that my life is all cushiony and stuff, but it’s far from it. Yes, I’m a little pampered; my pallette for the finest food is always stroked, I sleep in a really nice bed, on a very expensive Beautyrest mattress, I get to have my nails painted in all these beautiful shades of red, I live for my weekly salon appointments, and my wardrobe, well, let me tell you…it is the envy of all my friends!

The old lady likes to show me off and that’s fine with me, because I think I’m cute and should be shown off. We’re similar in lots of ways, the old lady and I; I like to cuddle, she likes to cuddle, I enjoy the sun, she enjoys the sun, I’m a little shy…aaaaaand that’s where we differ, because she talks too much. But, I still love her!

The old guy isn’t that bad, either. Although he’s not my favorite (that title belongs to the old lady), he allows me to use him a little while she’s away. I get to lay at his size 13 feet while she’s at work, and he even lets me sleep in his lap, at times, if I whine enough.

So, you’re probably wondering, where’s the problem? Well, you see, I’m a dog, a pampered-pooch. And the first “wrong” thing is, my name is Cinderella. I know some of you love the name Cinderella because it makes you think of fairy tales and shit, but my life is really far from being a freakin’ fairy tale. So, let’s get back to what’s wrong with my name.

It’s really hard for me to share this, so how about I turn it into a rap song?  That would be much easier on me, as I can entertain you without feeling that you’re thinking ill of me. OK, here goes: “My name is Cinderella, I’m a little feller.” Yep! You got it, my name is fuckin’ Cinderella and I’m a guy! I mean…who does that? If you wanted to use the name Cinderella or anything with Ella in it, why didn’t you just buy a girl dog? I’m not happy about this one bit!  I mean, this isn’t the E Entertainment channel and I’m not starring in the I Am Cait show! I’m a man! But, how can you exclaim that proudly when they buy you pink toys and shit?


Now that I feel as if you’re done laughing at me and this whole sick name thing, let me tell you why I’m really pissed! So, as I mentioned, I sit all day watching the world go by and I can’t do, or say anything about it. I realize that I’m a dog and I can’t really say anything, but when I use the word say, you know that I mean bark, right?

So, now you’re wondering, if I’m a dog, why can’t I bark? Well, c’mere, stoop down low…a little closer so that I can whisper in your ear. OK, here goes…I can’t bark, because these fuckers have a bark collar around my neck! That’s right, a collar that keeps me, A DOG, from fuckin’ barkin’! If I bark (which is what I’m supposed to do as a dog, right?)…you know what happens? That’s right, you guessed it! The old people here call it a ‘mild shock’,  I call it ELECTRO-fuckin’-cution! Is there anyone else here who sees the problem with this? I mean, I wouldn’t put a collar around their fuckin’ necks because I didn’t want to hear all the random, boring shit they talk about everyday! Especially the old lady who repeats the same stories, over and over and over again. I mean, you think the old guy hates listening to her, how the hell do you think I feel? Gee, fuckin’ whiz!

This is just crazy! They claim to love me and yet, this is how they treat me! They keep me from doing the one thing I was born to do…and that is to bark at people, People! I mean, it’s not like I just go around barking for no good reasons.

So, this is my life right now…the mailman comes down the street, I can’t bark;  the yardman is annoying me with his mower, I can’t bark;  the burglar is peeking thru the window watching the old lady undress (now what a sick puppy!), I can’t bark;  the pharmacy delivery guy is ringing the doorbell to deliver their meds…but, I. CAN’T. BARK! Do you know how many times that damn pharmacy delivery guy rings that doorbell? Every damn day, because they’re old, People! Gee, fuckin’ whiz!

So, I’ve about had it. I’ve got to come up with a plan to get this damn choker off my neck. The old lady calls it a “necklace,” but let’s put it around her damn neck, and we’ll see what she calls it then!

You know what? A light bulb just went off in my head! The neighbor, Ben Brown (not the black Ben on the right, but the white Ben who lives on the left, and because we have two Bens on our street, I don’t want the wrong Ben falsely named in my plan)…well, his Doberman, Rebecca (aka Becky-with-the-good-hair), is a little upset with Ben, as well. Can you guess why?  Listen to this, Rebecca (aka Becky-with-the-good-hair) is also a guy! What is up with these fuckin’ geriatric units?

Well, Rebecca (what the hell, let me just call her BWGH… Becky-with-the-good-hair) and I were talking about this very thing the last time the geriatrics took us to the doggy-park to play with the other dogs:  Jennifers who were probably born Roberts, and these Garys who were probably born Susans. *Sigh* This cannot be my life!

Anyway, after we got home, Ben and the old guy left BWGH and I alone inside the house while they sat on the patio and played a boring game of chess and drank “tea.” (A scene straight out of the movie, No Country for Old Men…*sigh*).

I look over at BWGH and then up at the computer, look at BWGH, back at the computer…my head feels like it’s in a tennis match against Serena Williams and she’s getting the best of my head!

“Wanna get on the computer?” I ask BWGH.

“Of, course! Let’s do it” she…I mean, he replies.

We look around to ensure the old guys are still engrossed in their scene from No Country, and up we go…BWGH on one computer and me on the other.

“You know what, Becky?” I say to BWGH.

“What’s up, Cindy?” He grins a crooked grin as he knows I hate being called Cindy even more than I hate being Cinderella.

“Oh, you got jokes today, do ya? Listen, how about we order the old guy a choker for his neck like the one they force around mine, just to give him a taste of his own medicine?”

“What about the old lady? You’re not getting one for her, too?” asks BWGH.

I look out the window at the old guy and say, “No, I like her more than I like him. I would hate to see her in any pain. ‘Sides, if I get one for him, she’ll get the message.” I wink.

BWGH nods and we hit Amazon with a vengeance to find the perfect “choker/bark collar”… (I mean “necklace”) that would fit his fat neck perfectly. It didn’t take long before we hit the jackpot.

As I’m already logged into Amazon under their account, I place the order, adding next-day delivery which came at an extra hefty cost, and I, of course, charge it to them. I’m not worried about the delivery because it’s coming Fed Ex in a little package, and the Fed Ex guy usually just leaves the packages on the porch without requiring a signature. {Yes, he’s too lazy to even ring the doorbell}. Amazon is telling me when it will ship and when it should arrive, so I’ll sit in the window every day and watch for that big, white truck with the purple and green writing on the side (and the loud, booming hard metal music, which is Lazy-Bones’ favorite). First part of my plan…executed! Now, to plan the finale!

Execution of the Plan

Bright and early Friday morning, the old lady gets up and heads out the door to work. They’re both retired, but she has just taken on a new job outside the home, I think mainly just to get away from him. I mean, they have been married for over 50 years now. I would have been bored with him by month two, personally, but hey, to each his own.

After having a huge breakfast, of which he offered me none, the old guy heads to his office. I follow on his heel as I typically do when he is the only one left in the house for me to follow. Go on, call me a user, it’s OK…I resemble that remark.

After working at his computer for a few hours, he yawns, stretches, looks down at me and says, “Cinderella, I think I’m going to take a nap. Wanna come?”

Of course I wanna come, you big lug. What do you think I am? A nap snatcher?

He climbs into his favorite chair with matching footstool that fits nicely in the corner of his office. I snuggle up to his size 13 feet on the footstool, eyes closed, pretending to fall off before he does. As soon as I hear the roar of his first snore, I spring onto the floor and into action.

The day the choker (I mean “necklace”) was delivered, I ran out the doggy door, grabbed the package and brought it into the house. She was already at work, he already in his office. Neither was the wiser.

I rip open the package with my bare teeth (I mean, how else would I have opened it?) and there it was, shiny, silver and kinda big…but, it had to fit his neck so that was OK. I carry it away to my secret place (which I’m not even going to share here, in case they find this on the internet and I get busted), but just know, it was safe and ready.

I get back down to the office just in time to place it on his neck. Boy, was that a struggle.  I mean, it’s not a tiny neck, OK? It’s a big ole’ neck and he kept giggling each time he felt me brush up against it. Wonder what he was dreamin’ about. That’s OK. I don’t even want to know…daydreams and nightmares…not my thing.  I hop down, back onto the footstool, I stare at him, and I wait.

Finally, the moment of truth…vengeance is about to be mine! The old guy stirs, rubs his eyes, sits up slightly and says, “Hey Cinderella! You’re already awake before me. What have you been doing, boy?”

As he reaches forward to rub my head (something else I really hate), I press the button on the tiny remote hidden under my right paw. He jumps back down into his seat, grabbing his neck.

“Oh, my God! What is this around my neck? Who the f…?!” Before he can finish his sentence, he gets another jolt.

Cussing and swearing in what sounds like multiple languages (or, he could be speaking in tongue, for all I know), he jumps up quickly as if moving swiftly will get him out of the chair before he’s hit with another “shock.”

He kicks the footstool out of the way, me still on it, and runs up the stairs screaming the old lady’s name. When he finally realizes that he’s still alone, he comes back down to his office, plops down in his chair and picks up the phone to call her cell. She answers and he yells into the phone, “Do you think this is funny?! Why the heck would you put this thing around my neck?! You came all the way home to do this and then leave?” Of course she has no idea what he’s talking about.

“This…thing!” he yells into the phone, as he stands and looks in the mirror above his desk… “It looks like the thing we put on Cinderella’s neck to keep him from barking…” As the last word trails off his lips, he slowly turns to look at me, still on the footstool, with a slight grin on my face. I slowly push the remote from under my paw for him to see.

The look on his face is priceless as he drops the phone and grabs the “choker” with both hands trying to remove it. Her screams coming thru the phone are just as loud as his, as she has no idea what’s going on, or why he is screaming at the top of his lungs.

I slowly place my paw back on top of the remote…drag it back close to me, and rest my head…as my paw keeps pressure on the remote. With every move he makes, I press the remote harder. I have never seen a man dance so fast or so wildly in all my 7 years of life, and I’ve never heard one tongue speak so fluidly, in so many different languages.

Now he knows how I’ve felt all those years they kept similar contraption around my neck. Doesn’t feel good, does it, big guy?

I look at him as he sits as still as a statue. He dare not pick up the phone to even respond to her screams, as he now knows any movement will trigger another “shock.” We sit in this position for hours, until the old lady finally comes home. She rushes down to his office and sees him motionless in his chair, staring in my direction. He dare not even lift his eyes or turn his head to look at her.

Picking me up from the footstool, she says to him, “My God! What is wrong with you?”

He lunges for the remote, which she has lifted me off of and then rushes down the hall and up the stairs to find something to remove the contraption from his neck. His anger rising, he starts to swear again.

Holding me close, the old lady coos in my ear, “I know. He’s just a crazy old man. Did he scare you?”

I look at her and bark “Ruff!” (Translation:  “Nope, but I sure scared the hell out of him.”)

He removed the bark collar from my neck that afternoon and I haven’t seen it since. The moral of this story: “Every dog has his day, and today, just happened to be his.”

“When you muzzle the bark…unleashed, beware the bite.”

~Nonnie Jules


To learn more about Nonnie:


*The Author’s Story

*Author Showcase


Add yours →

  1. Oh my! Well, first of all, I don’t blame Cinderella for being a little pissed off about the name. And then poor Becky (with the good hair) named a girl name too. But, her revenge was sweet and he got the collar off. 🙂 Wily little thing, he was. I think they need to change his name to Sam! 🙂 Great writing, Nonnie.


  2. I love dogs and hate cruelty in all its forms. I loved this short story, Nonnie! Bravo … great way to deliver a strong bite even through the laughter. Thanks for sharing your talent.🐶


  3. Ah, ha, ha! When I read, ‘I was commissioned by Cinderella Flores to write his story.’ I hit the brakes––he??? You had me laughing from that point on. Poor pooch. And to add insult to injury his toys are pink! Hm, maybe someone is living vicariously through poor Cinderella. Hilarious! :/


  4. Loved the story, Nonnie. Little Cinderfella did what I have wanted to do. Give certain unthinking, feeling owners a dose of their own medicine.


  5. A cute story. Thank you for the even cuter photo.


  6. Very entertaining story! Had me hooked from start to finish!


  7. Yay for Cinderfella! 😀 My two Springers are in shock after I read it to them, but they liked the bit about doggy-surfing very much… I think I’d better start shutting the PC down when I’m not around, in case they decide to do some online doggie treat shopping!


  8. Aww…poor pooch. Revenge is sweet and an expletive once in awhile is good for the soul.

    LMAO. Good job.


  9. Ha-ha! Kudos to Cinderella! Good writing, Ms. Jules!


  10. Wow! That was very entertaining Nonnie. 😀 Trust you to know dog’s language so well. And that was a smart dog indeed. I couldn’t stop smiling…

    Liked by 1 person

  11. karljmorgancom June 3, 2016 — 11:44 pm

    Awesome job, Nonnie. I know folks who use those collars and it really irks me. My dog is my best friend. I would sooner wear a shock collar as put one on her. I’ll tell the story to Chachis and Zelda when I get home. Thanks.


  12. This showcase is going to the dogs – I mean dog! An absolutely delightful, well-written short story that will tickle your funny bone! Amazingly, this is Nonnie’s first foray into the world of short story writing. Thank you for the great entertainment. Well done, Nonnie!

    Liked by 1 person

We love hearing from you!

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: