Telling Tuesday: Jubie Wakes

Welcome to Telling Tuesday, a day reminiscent of those in school when I looked forward to seeing what everyone brought for show and tell. This weekly feature was inspired by an article on WriteToDone.com, called “How to Show (Not Tell): A Writing Lesson from John LeCarre.”

It is one of the best articles I’ve seen on the rule all writers know–show, don’t tell–because it doesn’t just tell us how not to tell, it shows us some of LeCarre’s very own examples.

” . . . descriptions can set the scene, convey the inexpressible, and turn the reader into a witness, instead of remaining a mere bystander.” — Mary Jaksch, author of the article

Each week, I’ll give a “telling” prompt, and invite you to show us, to make us a witness, not a mere bystander. Feel free to use the prompt, or the photo (if a photo is shown.) Of course, if you have a completely different “telling” prompt, you can “show” us that, too.

As always, I invite you to leave a link to your website or blog with your comments.

THIS WEEK’S PROMPT:

Last week, I “showed” you how morning begins at the Morrill household, and I ended with “To Be Continued.” I decided to continue through the eyes of Jubie, our 1/2 Lab, 1/2 German Shorthaired Pointer. She is a one-year old spitfire, and the one on the left of the photo.

My morning continues . . .

I smell coffee. Coffee, coffee, coffee. Oh boy, oh boy. That means it’s almost time to get up!

Scratch, scratch.

Oh! There’s Bear at my door. I love it when he comes to wake me up. That means Mommy is right behind him. I hear the knob turning. Oh! There she is. Mommy, in the same old pink bathrobe she always wears,peeking in to see if I’m awake.  Bear pushes his way in front of her and nudges my crate with his nose. My tail begins to wag. That’s how I say “Hurry, hurry, hurry!” as she unlatches my crate.

S-T-R-E-T-C-H!! They don’t call it downward dog for nothing. I’ve seen Mom try to do it, but it doesn’t sound like it feels so good when she stretches the way I do. Oooh, let’s do another one.

Okay, now jump up on Mommy, give her a kiss good morning. Oh, where’s Bear — gotta kiss him, too.

“Come on pups,” Mommy says as we all three dance to the door. “Let’s go outside.”

When she opens it, I do  my best to climb over Bear, because I want to be the first one out to see the . . . CATS!!! Oh, I’m gonna get them this time. I know I can get them.

Oh . . . gotta pee. Gotta pee before I can eat. But who’s gonna chase the cats? Dang. First things first. I’ll get you cats later.

Ahhh . . . that feels good. The first pee of the day. Okay, Mommy. I’ve done my business.

Now, food. Food, food, food! She always gives me the first scoop. Oh, it’s so good. I catch Bear prancing to his bowl at the other side of the kitchen. Mommy follows him with his scoop held high. He’s such a gentleman. Always looks up to thank her before he takes his first bite.

Not me. No siree. Where’s my second scoop, Mom? Second scoop. Don’t forget.

She plops it into my bowl. Yummy, yummy, yummy. I down my second scoop before Bear even finishes with his first.

Mommy pours her first cup of coffee. She takes a slurp of the stuff that smells so good when it wakes me.

I love mornings.

Care to try writing from the POV of an animal?

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