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Something was not right here.
"One, two, three, four, five, six..."
The Shepherd knew they could be disobedient at times, but they'd never run away. So why did something seem so wrong?
"Seven, eight, nine..."
She frowned. It was apparent now--there were only ten hourglass dogs, when there were supposed to be eleven. Where had the eleventh gone? Wherever they were, they were going to have to miss breakfast...although the Shepherd still felt uneasy.
She snatched up her previously-filled watering can, which was already banged up from angry outbursts, but now had yet another dent due to her rather forceful release onto a flat rock. Beside it was a large, colorful bag of baby carrots. With great effort, she started dragging the bag toward the center of the terrarium and couldn't help stealing a glance outside.
Who was that little humanoid figure running through the fields?
And was that...her hourglass dog?
The Shepherd ripped the bag of carrots open with her teeth, threw handfuls of the veggies into the flowers for the dogs, and sprinted out of the terrarium. She had hoped for just another mundane day that she could spend counting blades of grass, but this was severe. Anything else, food, sentient flowers, even the Shepherd's favorite banged up cane, she would've rolled her eyes and waited until evening when she was done with her work to go looking for it. But not her dogs.
After several minutes of running, she heard the Auctioneer shout, " Alllll right, y'all! Welcome to the daily auctionin'! SOOOOOOIE, SOOOOOOOOOOIE! Yeah! " Right by him was a little round squishy canine inside of a large hourglass. Her dog. They were going to sell her dog! She would not stand for this!
Her flip flops loudly clacked against her heels as she marched over, cane in hand, swinging wildly. "You. Insolent. BRAT! " Her cane flew out of her hand, narrowly missing many bystanders, but managed to bonk the Auctioneer right on their head. They howled with pain and stumbled into the hourglass, which wobbled, then dropped right onto the ground and shattered into thousands of little pieces, freeing her dog.
"One--fatty--catty," the Shepherd heard someone say.
"WHO ARE YOU CALLING A FATTY CATTY?" she shrieked. She started rolling up her sleeves but the sight of the Auctioneer trying to escape stopped her in her tracks. She barked an order to her dog, and almost immediately it ran under her feet, tongue flailing.
Soon she was standing tall, barreling down the hill at full speed atop her hourglass dog. It yipped energetically, and throwing her hand forward, the Shepherd hollered, "ONWARD, DOG! FORWARD, FORWARD, FASTER! " It picked up speed, zooming down the hill. Very soon, the Auctioneer was only inches away. The dog bayed for vengeance, mimicking its owner's fury, and jaws open, hooked its teeth into the Auctioneer's red jacket, sending them both tumbling to the ground.
The Shepherd leapt off her dog just in time, gracefully landing on her feet. She approached the Auctioneer. "Do you have anything to say?" she said, eyes wide, yet her expression was uncannily calm. A loud pop of her knuckles rang through the air, reminiscent of the sound of the Auctioneer's bones if they didn't fess up.
"L- l- look, missy lady, I'm sorry, all right? I know I came by before, I know you told me no, but A MAN GETS DESPERATE, OKAY?!" The confrontation seemed to have sent them bawling, and soon their little feet were carrying them quickly away. The Shepherd wanted to pursue but the dog pulled her back by the hem of her pants. She softened, seeing its big, floppy tongue, comically large nose, and tiny little eyes that desperately begged. Just for it, she'd oblige, though it hurt so much to let the Auctioneer go.
After the shock subsided, she fell to her knees and just hugged her dog. Caressing its bristly yellow fur with her fingers, she felt such relief, and she didn't know why. She loved her dogs. She treated them harshly sometimes, sure, but she knew she loved them. But why was she crying so hard?
Clearly, this was not just a dog to her. The Auctioneer had stolen her family. The crime was minor to them, but to her, her dogs were her everything. No one ever visited the sad, lonely Shepherd in the Hourglass Meadow. The only comfort she had when she was depressed was a lick on her shoulder and a wet nudge on her back. This was never enough, but that silly face always made her smile, even if just for a second. She cared for them and they cared for her.
Tears poured. The Auctioneer could wait. For now, she was just glad to have her dog back.