Barbie “Dear Elaine,” she writes on a new postcard. “I saw Barbie today. I did. A Barbie doll come to life. This woman. I swear. That’s what she looked like. I was out with Holly. You know. Running errands. Took a break and stopped at Starbucks. Got a Mocha Cookie Crumble Frappuccino for me. A Puppuccino for Holly. And there she was. Barbie. No kidding. In a pink convertible. Barbie pink. It was. I swear. Driving down the street. Right in front of us. We were sitting on the patio. You know. Enjoying the sun and our drinks. When she zoomed by. Looked just like my old Barbie doll. I swear. She did. Oh, how I loved that doll! Her long, silky, ash blonde hair. Her bendable legs. Saved my allowance for months. I did. Bought her at Zayre. Spent all my money on her. Every month. No kidding. Lots of outfits. I bought for her. A wardrobe case. Accessories. Everything I could. Except that car. That pink convertible. Too expensive. But everything else? Yeah. I bought it. Only the best for my Barbie. And now, and now. Here she is. Today. Driving past us at Starbucks. In that convertible. Barbie pink. Just think. My Barbie doll come to life. Seriously. Forty years later. What are the odds? You know?” Who Knew? “Dear Elaine,” she writes on another postcard. “It’s like this. In this dog magazine. The current issue. Yes. That’s the one. An article on dental care. You know. For Holly. For dogs. It says dental chews aren’t enough. I mean. They say, they say. They don’t do the job. Not completely. Even though my groomer. She’s the one. Not me. Never me. No way I’m brushing a dog’s teeth. Nope. Not happening. Every month. She does this. Brushes Holly’s teeth. My sweet Yorkie. And then, and then. I give her dental chews. Holly, that is. Every day. I do. But these people! These vets. This magazine. They say daily dental chews aren’t enough. That I need to do more. Oh, yeah? Like what? Like dental powder. Alright. So I found some. At PetSmart. Kelp. That’s what it is. Just sprinkle it on her food. Once a day. That’s it. Nutritious to eat. Plus, plus. It dissolves plaque. It does. And tartar. That too. So I bought some. And she likes it. Holly, that is. Okay then. Mission accomplished. Good to have that behind me. What’s next?”
Laura Stamps is the author of 50 novels, novellas, short story collections, and poetry books. Forthcoming: “The Good Dog” (Prolific Pulse Press 2023) and “Addicted to Dog Magazines” (Impspired, 2023). Recipient of a Pulitzer Prize nomination and 7 Pushcart Prize nominations. www.LauraStampsFiction.blogspot.com