Lucy Likes Pie


“I like pie!” Lucky exclaimed happily. “I only have it occasionally, and even then it’s still just tiny bits, but those tiny bits are great!” Which was true. Lucky loved pie. He noticed it as one of the foods that he rarely saw served, and noted that the word ‘dessert’ seemed to be somehow associated with it. Therefore he called it one of the very few ‘desserts’. Along with learning that the word ‘pie’ is referenced to this tasty treat, he had figured out what ‘cake’ and ‘cupcakes’ were, although these two seemed much more similar to each other. Pie was a different thing altogether, though it did still seem to be called a dessert.

Lucky was on a walk around the compound a few days after his analysis of the word “pie”. Since Lucky had only discovered pie recently, he was vigorously updating a neighborhood friend of his, Brutus, about his favorite food.

“It’s really really really really yummy! And I want more of it but I can’t have it because for some reason it’s hardly ever eaten, and when it is, it’s still not a lot but I don’t care it’s awesome!” Lucky’s energy had nothing to do with the pie, or even him being excited about the pie. He was just one of those dogs who was consistently filled with exhilarating happiness and exerting energy.


“Hey, Lucky, chill out.” Barked back Brutus. “I get it. You like pie.”

“You don’t understand,” Lucky was persistent to prove pie’s worth. “It’s the most spectacular food in the entire universe!”

“Prove it,” spat Brutus. “Get me a bit of this “pie” and tomorrow I’ll see if it’s as good as you say,”

“Okay! This’ll be fun!” Lucky’s tail was wagging uncontrollably. He felt a tug on his leash, so he turned with a quick “See you later!” and ran back to his house.


Lucky ran in the kitchen and quickly scanned the counter for any signs of remaining pie. There were the pencils in their neat little container, the vase of flowers, and a stack of disorganized papers, but no sign of pie. Lucky’s tail slowly came to a stop. Well, not a complete stop, because, for Lucky, there was always some way to stay optimistic. But you get the point. He nervously searched other possible places for food. Brutus had to try pie. He had to. Lucky’s head perked up. His nose twitched. A scent. Yes, he was sure of it. He could smell pie. He glanced up around him and slowly paced the kitchen tiles. He couldn’t see any. Wait, a stronger smell. The same smell, only closer. Lucky looked almost directly upward. Of course! The cabinet! It was in the cabinet above the granite counter Lucky stood next to. If only he could reach up to make sure. But this would have to do. If he was lucky, the pie would be taken out and served again tonight.


“Well?” Brutus grunted. “Did you get it?”

“Yep! Said Lucky. All had gone well the night before. He had snuck under the table to the youngest (therefore the messiest) child’s seat and had found a few crumbs of pie. He brought them up to Brutus and placed them on the street in front of him. Brutus leaned down and gobbled up some of the pie.

“His jaw moved and his eyes closed as he was carefully considering the new taste in his mouth. Lucky was anxious to find out his opinion. He wagged his tail and leaned toward Brutus. Brutus swallowed and slowly reopened his beady eyes. “Don’t you just love it?” Lucky asked intently.

“It’s alright,” replied Brutus. “Not the best taste, but okay.”

Seriously?” Lucky stared at him, aghast by his reaction. “But it’s so… good!”

“Everyone has their own opinion, Lucky.”

“I know, but-”

“But what, Lucky?”

“I just really thought you’d like it.”

Lucky wasn’t sure why he was so disappointed. He just, was.

Brutus smiled “Well, on the bright side, now you can have the rest of it.”

Lucky’s eyes brightened. “Really? Really really?”

“Yep. Go ahead.”


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