Funny stories in under 500 words.

True Story



I was dog sitting in New York. At least, I was, until the dog died.

I woke up and there she was, laid out on the living room floor. Apparently she died in her sleep.

The family didn’t freak out when I called and told them. Oh, hey—remember your dog? Am I a terrible person for wondering if I still get paid?

Don’t worry, they said. She was old. We’re sorry to inconvenience you, but could you take the body to the vet? He’ll know what to do.

No problem. Dead dog to vet.

German shepherds are not made to fit in duffel bags. It was the duffel bag or the saxophone case, so I took my best chance. Dead German shepherds weigh over 100 lbs. Try clunking that down 6 flights of stairs.

I hopped on the subway. Of course it was standing room only. I kept my face blank and unassuming. No one could tell from the outside that I was transporting a dead dog. It’s not like duffel bag hearse services are illegal.

The guy next to me grinned and nodded. I lifted the corner of my mouth in reply. He was pretty cut. Tall, dark hair, deep tan lines, a crooked smile. Mmm. I’ll bite. We started to chat.

He liked the Dodgers and a good sandwich. The train stopped suddenly, and he caught my hand when I stumbled. He pulled my heavy bag out of the aisle and stowed it under the seat.

Man, that’s a heavy bag.

I know, right.

I had to get off at the next stop. The vet was two blocks away from the station, on the right.

Hey, he said. We should do something sometime. Can I have your number?

I blushed. Well, sure. I’d like that.

Our hands brushed when I handed him the slip of paper with my number written on it. He waved as I stepped out the doors. What a smile.

I started up the escalator. Okay, back to the task at hand. Vet, two blocks on the r—

Where was the bag? Oh man.

I left the bag on the train.

I would have dashed down the escalator and run down the tracks, but the train had already pulled out of the station. I put my head in my hands. I can’t believe I left a dead German shepherd on the subway! What would I tell the family? Maybe when that guy called me up for a date, I could sheepishly ask for the dead dog back. What a great way to start a relationship.

Wait—he meant for me to leave the bag.

Just before the doors closed, he bent down to pull something out from under the seat, waving at me the whole time. He never told me his name.

That sly—I bet he didn’t even like the Dodgers.

Well, Merry Christmas and Happy New Year, my friend. Hope you rest in peace.


Aubrey Bjork received a B.S. and M.A. in English. She loves Snorgtees and a good joke. Check out her website HERE!




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