Exquisite Corpse: Chauncey

[NOTE: this is the result to an "exquisite corpse" exercise, where each writer refers to a prompt and writes a related piece for 10 minutes, then passes it to the writer on their left. There were three of us, so we each wrote for about 10 minutes on three separate pieces. This is the one I started. The switch to another writer is marked with a "***".]

CHAUNCEY, an exquisite corpse from three authors.

"Chauncey!" I belted. "You old scamp! Git'cher stanky butt over here, ol' buddy!" I squatted and slapped my thighs animatedly, an expectant glimmer in my eye.

The portly bulldog bounded over, wall-eyes and tongue lolling about. My arms encircled him as he neared, and after a playful "ARF!" he reared up to lick my face.

Chauncey and I had a greeting ritual, whenever I had come home from school. It began with a vigorous "scrubbing" of the top of his head to his ears as our foreheads touched. He then vaulted into feverish, sloppy face-licking with his paws on my shoulders. My hands would travel down his furry hide, fingers tickling his rib cage, until he finally rolled on his side, legs splayed, inviting the classic belly-rub.

I sighed, relieved that he finally appeared after a week away from home, seemingly sound and happy. Just like old times, with our noggins playfully rubbing back and forth. He opted to skip out on most of the ritual this time, however. Another "ARF!" and he leaned back, gracelessly landing on the sod with a --thump!--

...What the fuck was that on his stomach?

***

I'm not into bugs but, for a girl, I know quite a bit. I know ticks of course, and mosquitoes and even leeches. At some point, I've picked these off myself and off of Chauncey. Hell, I even had to dig one of those nymph-fly grubs off my brother once. He was too ooged-out to touch it. It was gross.

But...

This thing was certainly not familiar. It was insect-y, but also it had a bit of a lizard vibe - you know - the eyes, man. There was something ancient and primeval in there. The eyes had the shine of wisdom without the shadow of a soul.

I kept getting the belly work in on the doggo, but I couldn't keep my eyes from this unfamiliar traveler that had hitched on to the old boy. Keeping Chauncey calm with my left hand, I bent closer, and moved my right hand to part the fur that was obscuring that green-black "something" on his tummy.

Yeah, green-black, depending on the angle, about the size of a donut munchkin, but flatter.

***

It was then that I realized what it was: an abscess. When he stepped out of the shadow I could see its true colour. Dark grey. It had been days since I had time to wrestle with him. It may have grown quickly.

The poor dog had no idea what it was or why it was there. Just a beautiful dog with this hideous protrusion on his chest. I called him to me and had him sit."Good boy," I said and caressed his head with my left hand and reached for the abscess with my right.

It was firm. About the size of a large marble, shiny and dark. I had no idea where it came from. I gently rubbed it. Chauncey was smiling from ear to ear. I knew he felt no pain.

I thought that it would go away shortly and there was no point in taking him to see a vet.

Days passed and Chauncey's abscess began to wither. Happy as a clam, he greeted me with smiles and slobber every morning, and with sheer joy when I came home from school.