(ATTENTION: No harm comes to the dog or the teen in this version of Lick Lick. I love dogs and teens too much.)
I totally forgot about this Urban Legend. Lick Lick is what I call it and it was one of my favorites to tell around the camp fire.
Lick Lick Urban Legend
Sally’s parents had an important out of town business meeting and she didn’t want to tag along. She convinced her parents she’d be fine staying home alone for one night.
“You’ll be gone less than twenty-four hours. And you’re only fifty miles away, if I need you,” Sally argued.
Her parents left at noon. “We will be home first thing in the morning. Call if you get scared, and we’ll come home immediately. Lock all the doors once we’re gone. And do not leave the house. Understand?” her mom said.
“Don’t worry. I’ll be fine. Besides. Boss won’t let anything happen to me.” Boss was Sally’s ninety-pound German Shepard she’d raised from a pup. He never left her side.
What Teens Do
Sally engaged in those activities many teens enjoy when free of parental supervision. Dancing like a manic to loud music. Eating all the junk food her belly would hold. Texting friends. Checking social media to see how many hearts she had on her selfie with Boss. And, finally, bingeing a Scream marathon. Complete with chips and queso, popcorn, sodas, and Reese’s pieces as alternatives to a healthy dinner.
After falling asleep during Scream IV, Sally dimmed lights. Let Boss out. Then in when he’d done his business. Checked doors were locked. And trudged upstairs to bed.
She flopped onto her twin bed. Fully clothed. On top of her Boho quilt and pillows with their vibrant yellows, reds, greens, and blues. Her arms dangled over one side and her feet on the other.
Boss scooted under the bed as usual. His head poked out enough for Sally to scratch between his ears. “Good boy. We’ll go on a walk tomorrow after Mom and Dad get home.” When he was a pup, Boss slept with her, but Sally’s twin bed no longer accommodated his adult body.
She continued to stoke his velvet ears. Within minutes, his hushed snores lulled her to sleep.
Sally woke. Uncomfortable and chilly. Peaked at the clock. Three o’clock. I’ve got several more hours, she thought. Mom and Dad won’t be home until later. She stripped down to panties and t-shirt and crawled underneath her quilt.
Two hours later, she kicked off the quilt, rolled to her stomach, and let her sweaty arms dangle over the sides. Boss licked her hand. “Good, boy. Such a good boy,” she murmured. He licked her again.
“Sally, wake up. We’re home,” her mom shouted from downstairs. Boss pounced on top of her. Part of his ritual good- morning greetings.
“Boss. Boss. Give me a chance to wake up.”
“Weren’t you scared last night?” her mom asked as she entered Sally’s room.
“No. Not at all. Why would you ask?”
“Boss was outside when we got home. Looked as if he’d spent most of the night out there. He dug up all my new rose bushes.”
“Couldn’t have been him. He was under my bed all night. Licked my hand even.”
“I don’t know what to tell you. He was outside, and the backdoor was locked. Hurry and get dressed. Dad is taking us for brunch.” Her mom threw sweats and a t-shirt on top of Sally. “Come on Sally. We hurried home and I’m starving.”
Sally hugged Boss’s neck. “Mom’s crazy,” she whispered in his tall, pointed ear. “You were with me all night.”
She scurried to the bathroom and showered. She stepped out into a foggy bathroom. The shower had been hot and wonderful. She turned to look at herself in the vanity mirror. It dripped with condensation. But someone had written something there in her favorite shade of lipstick.
She turned on the vent and opened the door, allowing the steam to escape. Read the note and screamed.
Humans can lick too, the lipstick message bragged.
(Note: Names and events have been fictionalized for reader enjoyment.)
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