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n_n its got bad grammer and spelling, but its a farily decent story.. sad.. be worend! sad... She was nine when I met her. I myself was just a pup then too. It was extravagant bliss then. A fine charismas eve she came tearing down the hall to the living room where the gaudy evergreen stood with all its nice gaily-wrapped presence. But then there was me… a small light gray fur ball. The runt of the litter, sitting up on my baskets side wagging my tail as this new.. friend? Yes that what she was to be, my new friend! Ah… we got very exited she and I. I think then we got more exited from each other’s excitement then from any thing else! I was barking joyously as she ran past the other colorful things and right to me. Neither she nor I noticed her parents walk in and watch us as we began to ruff and tumble play. Looking back I don’t think there was a single person unhappy in that house that winters morn. Our friendship only grew from there. Spring came and the outdoors were opened to us! My tail just begins to wag as I recall the feeling that welled up inside me as we both stood at the open glass door looking out over the open range back yard, she by my side and I by hers. During those warmer days we spend many hours outdoors until the evening. More often then not we would come home covered in mud and dirt. Hahah I still remember the look and comments mom used to make when we would wonder in. always after a nice hot cup of hot coco.. Well for her any way, me I would usually get a bowl of tae. Mom wasn’t any kind of vet, thank god for that, so she usually didn’t know what else to do but give me tae. To any affect that night mom would make us bath. We would fight her tooth and nail to stay out of that sterol white place of baiting, but mostly because they would make us take them separate. Eventually pops would step in and convince mom to let us bath together. For many seasons it was like that.. Then the first day of school rolled around. I didn’t know what school was then, just only that… that it meant she would be taken away from me.. And put someplace where I could not play with her. During the time that she was away, especially that first week, mom would have to struggle to get me to leave my basket. I would spend all day curled up in it waiting for her to come home. Till one day mom just picked up the basket, me still within it, and walked out the door. It was scary at first as you can imagine, being carried so many feet of the ground in a shaking basket. But eventually I got used to it, and even enjoyed out walks. But nothing compared to the joy of when she came home! I would run up the walk way and pounce her as soon as she was off the yellow prison buss! Licking, baking, wagging my tail, what ever it took to show my affection! Then we would run off and play till the evening came again. Oh glorious hours we would spend chasing grass hopers, eating grass rolling in the dirt. Though not so much any more. But then the dreadful night would come. I took to sleeping in her bed from here on, wanting to spend as much time with her as possible before she had to leave again, leaving me in a sad waited condition. Again the seasons passed, but slower this time. She started spending less and less time with me after school, doing more things related to school. Homework, after school practice. Other absurd things like that. By this time I could no longer fit in my basket, and was beginning to be forced to migrate further towards the foot of her bed. I didn’t mined as long as I got to be around her. Soon our fun ruff and tumble seasons were no more. Oh yes we still played fetch, but little more then that. But it was around this time I began to take on a more important role to her then play mate. Some nights she would curl up in her bed and just cry. I didn’t know what to do and for many moments stood there awkwardly with my ears laid back and whimpering trying to get her to tell me what was wrong. Eventually she would reach over to me and hug me. All I could do was cuddle with her, ease what ever was troubling her mined. But even these small short-lived bits of closeness were far and few between. She was beginning to become more easily irritated with me and would slap my nose every time I tried to lick her, and I will not even mention what might happen if I had pounced upon her. It was like she was being lost to me. She no longer wanted my attention, and I could no longer give show of affections to her with ought receiving some form of swat or disappointed warning or tone. I found in these times that walks and spending time with mom helped best. She would often pet me or give me treats when I often felt down. But it wasn’t the same as if I were getting the attention, affection.. From her. You cannot tell me it was the same. More seasons passed and I longed for play like when we were pups! When she was out back trying to suck down that stinky tar, I tried to pounce and bat at her. But she would just swat me away yell at me. She no longer paid attention to me at all. Then came her friends. Oh those devils tainted her innocent soul beyond anything the powers of hell could do. I lost the better half of my tail, pride and mental health to those demons. Being I’m sure many of you have been near fire, so I’m sure you know of the heat that it gives off.. But you don’t know what its like until your tail has been set upon with this. I yelped running around the back yard crying for my FRIEND to help me! But she only laughed like the others! Only LAUGHED! It was then that I knew what we had been lost. From then on I avoided her, and especially when her demonic hell worshipping friends were near. Though sometimes I did not escape their fun seeking. Often I caught sly kicks and swats, only to the amused laugher of those there about. It was then that mom began to realize the change in me. Growling at strangers on the street, shying away from her and her daughters touch. No longer did I long for her touch, yes.. my playmate was long gone, dead to me. For many years her friends were a constant plague to me. One fateful evening I was resting under the counter, mom’s usual spot for coffee, when mom’s daughter came in. she seemed in high spirits but I ignored her, my heat welling up inside me at the very sight of her. I laid my ears and snarled slightly incases he tried to come over. To dissuade her, but did it work? No. She came right over asking me what the matter was. Could she not tell? I did not want her near, and I growled to let her know. She reached out for me and I panicked, biting her hand! By the time I realized the atrocity I had committed, the blasphemy! It was too late! Pops roared in furious ness running over moving her away form me giving me a fierce kick to the ribs. I only cowered whimpering crying trying to tell them I was sorry… it was never the same after that, even if it were just for a few days. I tried to walk up to her on many occasions, but the leash that I was staked to did not allow me near her.. And she never came near me after that. Nobody did. I was met with looks of distrust, as though they did not know me! Here I am! I would call! It’s me, your pup! Your little pup! But only met with such looks… it was a few days latter that my good by came. Nobody came out to say good buy, or to even protest the strange peoples arrival to our back yard! I ran as far as my leash would allow me, but alas it was not far enough. They slowly approached my cowering form with their wicked poles. Nosing me! They then pined me down! There I was, in the back of a pound truck, muzzled like a criminal. I used to sit out front with mom, and watch this very same truck role by with convicted dogs in its hold. She told me all about those bad dogs… and here I was now what my family feared and hated. It was.. it was the lowest one could reach! You must excuse me if I am a bit slow now. I feel very heavy. My eyes are blurring quite very much. All around me I hear whimpers and yelps. My cousins calling for their solved ones, their ‘she’s’. Their ‘hims’ their moms; their pops, granny, uncles wives, husbands! But nothing replies to them but only the damned own calls for their own. Why is it so hard to breath? Please tell me? “ This one whimpers a lot.. Makes it really hard, frank.” Share was a blond woman who worked in the local pound. She spoke of the small shebainue on the table before her. He had been injected with three poisons in the proper order minutes ago, but he had not stopped whimpering since he had been strapped down. “Its ok share,” frank replied looking at his watch. “He should be dead in a few minutes…”
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last update : 27-11-2014