Shaggy Collection

Written by Charli Mills

Charli Mills, a born buckaroo, makes literary art accessible at She writes about the veteran spouse experience and women forgotten to history.

November 2, 2023

Welcome to Carrot Ranch Literary Community where creative writers from around the world and across genres gather to write 99-word stories. A collection of prompted 99-word stories reads like literary anthropology. Diverse perspectives become part of a collaboration.

We welcome encouraging comments. You can follow writers who link their blogs or social media.

Those published at Carrot Ranch are The Congress of Rough Writers.

Have You Heard Of Shaggy Pages? by Hugh W. Roberts

I opened a charming bookstore called ‘Shaggy Pages’ in a quaint town.

It became a refuge for the LGBTQ+ community, where stories of love and acceptance filled the air.

My cosy shop, adorned with shaggy tapestries and shelves brimming with diverse tales, was a sanctuary for those seeking solace and connection. It was here that relationships bloomed, and hearts found belonging.

In the warm embrace of ‘Shaggy Pages,’ I wove together stories of love, courage, and pride, creating a tapestry of acceptance far beyond my shop’s walls.

‘Shaggy Pages’ – the place where everyone is welcome. Come on in.


Pals by Dianne Borowski

He looked shaggy, kind of scruffy. He wandered around town panhandling, searching for food. The pony was tiny. Doc Jenkins encouraged us to watch her closely. She was quite frail.

He came by the house looking for work. Dad gave him something to eat and let him bed down in the barn for the night.

He saw the pony and lay down near her. Dad said OK, just don’t bother her. Next morning dad hired him. He took good care of the pony. Together they grew stronger. They were like family. Years passed. Buried them together, side by side.


Shaggy, Shaggy, Shaggy by Sue Spitulnik

There’re dogs named Shaggy,
And there’re shaggy dogs.
There are even shaggy cats,
My Maine Coon, Big’n, for one.
There is Shaggin’ on the Boulevard,
referring to dancing in the street.
There are heads of hair that look shaggy
Because they need a cut,
Or because they are cut that way.
There are shagbark hickory trees,
And willow trees whose branches hang like shaggy hair.
Remember the shag rug era in the seventies,
When Moms took hours to vacuum
The shag in the same direction?
And then daughters who walked circular footprints on them,
Got grounded for their efforts.


The New Shaggy Carpet by Sadje

Sadie was very house-proud, and when she bought a new high-pile carpet, she wanted everyone to notice and admire it.

Sadie’s friends were coming over for tea to admire the new carpet when disaster struck.

Her two mischievous sons ruined her grand moment!

Matt spilled his chocolate milk all over the carpet, and when he and his brother tried to clean it, it spread all over the area, giving it a blotchy appearance.

Of course, they both hid in their room and Mom had to roll up the carpet and put it in the basement before her friends came.


Scare Bear by Doug Jacquier

Victoria knew that drop bears, an allegedly vicious killer form of the koala, were a hoax designed to scare tourists visiting Australia and the otherwise gullible. Naturally, as they set up camp in the bush with their parents, she couldn’t resist telling her younger sister, Charlotte, not to worry about drop bears. She stressed that they were a myth and that one would not suddenly descend on her from the trees and attack her savagely. Charlotte’s giant teddy, the now very shaggy Mr. Fuzzy, did very nicely as Victoria hid in a tree and dropped him on Charlotte.


Shaggy Sergio by Kerry E.B. Black

Sergio lifted his lip and snarled at his reflection. “I’m too hairy!”

His father ruffled his son’s already touseled hair and chuckled. “It’s your age. Let me introduce you to my favorite grooming tool.” He presented a razor.

Sergio groaned. “That only makes the hair grow back thicker.”

“Ladies like manly men, and we’re known for being hairy. Sculpt yourself a bit. Like Michelangelo and the marble angel.” He ran a hand over his own trimmed beard.

“The style’s to have a beard. But this…” Sergio growled. “This is excessive.”

“What do you expect?” His father shrugged. “We’re werewolves.”


A Life in the Deity by Geoff Le Pard

History shows gods tend to be (a) male and (b) hirsute. Final proof of the link between the tonsorial and the theological came when bounteously bouffant Terry Godd commenced his ministry in Little Tittweaking with endless tales. His adherents flocked to hear these shaggy god stories. One such was Japanese chef, Sue Nami who named her signature sauce after this mode of preaching: Terry Yacking. Terryists believe nirvana is finally achieved if rendered comatose by the monotony of delivery. It is also further proof that if, on waking, one finds another story has started, some gods are right bastards.


The Shag by Jill Marie

The stylist asks what I want today. “A shaggy haircut….you know what that is? A shag?” She sniffles and tells me that those are not popular right now. Well it’s come to that, as I realize I am not so popular right now. A woman soon 70 years old. Wanting to capture youth again. That shag that was one of the many different cuts I’ve worn over the years but the one that gave me pleasure with the way it looked and the ease of care. Let me try my younger self on again. “Yes, please, a shag.”


Wistful Thinking by JulesPaige

haloed ‘round
her mylar balloons
to bring cheer

Would Granny be able to overcome the ripped denim jeans she wore?

Claire’s Mom had warned her to dress nicely when visiting Granny’s retirement home. Most older folks there looked a tad shaggy around the edges, and some even as if they’d been through the ringer themselves. They’d frown on clothing that looked like it should have been cut into strips and braided into rag rugs. Claire hoped the balloons would be a happy distraction, so the old folks wouldn’t complain about her outfit. Claire never whined about ‘Ode du Old Folks!’


Shaggy Dog by Norah Colvin

“I want a dog,” said Jason.

“You’re in the right place,” said the attendant at Rescue Kennels. “We’ve all sorts of dogs. What sort are you after?”

“A shaggy dog, please.”

The attendant showed Jason the shaggy dogs.

“They need a lot grooming,” he warned.

“Oh. Not shaggy then. Curly perhaps?”

Jason shook his own curly head at the curly dogs. They’d need grooming too.

“How about short?” said the attendant.

“They’re awfully noisy,” said Jason, as they walked the aisles.

“They are dogs,” said the attendant.

“Right,” said Jason. “Do you have any cats? Maybe a shaggy cat?”


Big Pat by Gloria McBreen

I went there for a new-born girl, but I ended up with a twelve-year-old boy! He looked out of place with his shaggy hair and bald patch, so I asked about him. They said that when his mamma had died, he ran away. He was found wandering in the grounds of a nursing home. No one knew his name.

His eyes followed me. He looked sad but I sensed he had charisma. I signed the papers, and took him home. When he strutted into our kitchen, he charmed us immediately with his feline cockiness. We christened him Sexy Pat.


Hairin’ Up by Ann Edall-Robson

“Winter’s coming early, probably a long one too,” Mac said, rubbing his hand along the shaggy neck of the horse.

The young cowboy wondered if the decision to call about the advertisement for the ranch job had been a good one. Smirking, he asked, “Where’d you hear that? You some kind of a weather guru?”

Mac’s face didn’t change. Teaching youngsters the old ways of telling the weather had saved more than one who rode for them.

The foreman shook his head. “It’s August, the horses are hairin’ up.”

Mac chuckled. Sooner or later the boy would learn.


On and on and on…by Bill Engleson

I was twelve when Disney inflicted the first one on me. On the world. Didn’t have a dog, so I suppose I was at loose ends pet-wise. It didn’t help when I came home and told my parents that I’d just seem a movie where the main character turned into a sheep dog. Not that we had sheep so a sheepdog wouldn’t be of much use. And we certainly had no use for boy turning into a sheepdog. Especially as I was the only boy in the house.
Tried to get my sister to volunteer.
That went nowhere fast.


Powers of Perception by D. Avery

“My hair is the source of my strength.”

“Well, Sampson, you could at least run a comb through that bedraggled, shaggy excuse for hair of yours sticking out every which way.”

“My hair acts like radar when it’s like this, increases my powers of perception.”

“Boy, you’ve got an answer for everything.”

“No, that’s you Gramps, you never ask any questions, all you ever do is make judgements.”

“Here’s a question for you then; how long will she last at rehab this time?” but the boy’s only answer was to hang his head, thick hair shielding his welling eyes.


Shaggy Tail by Reena Saxena

I see a shaggy tail mid-air, and there …. She has landed on the sofa or bench.

It doesn’t help much that it is covered by a shaggy cover. Remnants of calcium bones get lost in it, and my girl has to work hard to retrieve it. It’s not easy for me to separate hair they shed from the covers.

So, well …. We’ll go in for a satiny smooth one before the New Year begins.

Let the self-anointed Queen slip off her throne sometimes, and yet … let her remain covered with the satiny smoothness of our love.


Freeda My Shaggy Dachshund by Brenda Fluharty

Freeda the Shaggy dachshund, my only sunshine,

You bring joy and happiness into my life divine.

With your long, furry body and wagging tail,

You could brighten even the darkest trail.

Through difficulties, you’re always by my side,

A faithful companion, my heart’s chosen guide.

In your company, all worries seem to fade away,

You are my sunshine, my ray of light every day.

So, Freeda the Shaggy dachshund,

I cherish the bond we share, until the very end.

You bring endless love and a zest for life,

Forever grateful to call you mine, my sweet canine.


Philippine Eagle by ladyleemanila

Philippine eagle
brown and white with shaggy crest
fast and agile bird

fast and agile bird
gives loud and high pitched whistles
our national bird

our national bird
critically endangered

we should protect and conserve
before it’s too late

not too late to save
without other predators
dominant hunter

flight’s fast and agile
monkey-eating eagle
still-hunting or perch-hunting

hunting to survive
once paired, monogamous
courtship begins by nest building

building relationship
aerial display and loud calling
copulation follows

eagle’s nest made of sticks
both parents take care of eaglets
threatened by deforestation
let’s protect and conserve them


Keepin Cryptoz Off the Ranch by D. Avery

“Well, Kid, s’pose yer all set up fer a shaggy hog story, what with Curly sportin her new angora goat fleece jacket.”

“First thing come ta mind was Ernie an that shaggy shirt he’s always wearin.”

“Better not write nuthin bout thet, Kid.”

“Why not?”

“Cuz Ernie ain’t never worn a shirt unnerneath his overalls, not even in winter.”

“Gulp. I see.”

“The unseein won’t come easy.”

“Reckon Ernie’s manscapin ‘splains Sassysquatch’s ‘ttraction to ‘im. But I ain’t gonna write bout that neither, won’t have a bunch a cryptozoologists creepin roun the ranch.”

“Thet’s write decent a ya, Kid.”


Thank you to all our writers who contributed to this week’s collection!

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  1. Doug Jacquier

    Congrats to all. Especially enjoyed:
    A Life in the Deity by Geoff Le Pard – Puntastic
    Shaggy Dog by Norah Colvin – The getting of pet wisdom
    On and on and on…by Bill Engleson – Sisters, you can never rely on them.

  2. Colleen M. Chesebro

    Great stories! I’m in work mode and have missed too many challenges. I’ll take care of that this week.

    • pedometergeek

      I agree, Colleen. I’ve missed way too many challenges, and I really wanted to write to this one. I am cheating, but I’ll post it here. Sorry, Charli!
      The Yaks by Nancy Brady (99-words, no more, no less)

      Our family was heading to Great Britain.

      We flew into London for a couple days before heading to York. Next up was two days in Edinburgh before going to Glasgow where we’d visit Rob’s cousin, Forrest.

      My younger son wanted to see yaks, showing me a postcard of Highland cows.

      Forrest wanted to take us to Loch Lomond, but I asked to see yaks, too. Forrest drove to a field of shaggy-haired cows standing by a fence. One lifted his tail and let loose with a thick stream of urine. He was happy seeing them up close and personal.

  3. Jules

    Nice shaggy stories all – Thanks.


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