|my dog... (standard:drama, 901 words)|
|Author: isabella jones||Added: Feb 26 2006||Views/Reads: 2070/0||Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)|
|well, this is all about the last day i spent with my dog...|
BRUNO Since morning the atmosphere had been that of uneasy silence. Bruno hadn't started his usual quota of barking, and that was alarming! I wondered how he had managed to digest his food. And then it struck me... he hadn't had food since morning. I got worried, that was so unlike Bruno... he couldn't stay quiet even for a second if he had not been given his food... I descended the stairs and entered the hall, trying to find him, but he was nowhere to be seen. I went into the garden adorned with lush green grass (one of the reasons Bruno loved playing in there) and tried to find him, at last his drooping tail caught my sight as he was almost inside the hole he had dug in the garden! Boy! Mom would kill him for that. “Bruno! Bruno! I called, but he didn't listen, I went close to him and called him by his name in a very sweet voice which I used just with him. He turned his head and saw me, waiting upon him (he was used to such royalty... after all he is a spoilt dog) he somehow managed to get out of that hole and his tail started wagging. “Aaaaw, you didn't find the bone you had buried in there?” I asked patting his head which had turned a dirty brown courtesy to the mud. “That's OK; I'll buy you another one... but, what about this mess that you have created? And now, I have to give you a bath.” At the word ‘bath' he yelped and ran away from me.... He was queer, he didn't like water... but poor dear, he had to take a bath. As I got the tub ready, he entered the bathroom and put his nozzle on my hand. For a second I got scared, but I saw him and sighed. It was just him! “What are you doing here?” I asked, because as a strict rule, he was not allowed to enter the bathrooms and if my memory isn't failing, he had always abided by it. After taking the tub in the garden, I called out to him and this time he came... what was wrong with him! Wasn't he going to make me run after him around the tub. I concluded, my dog had decided to change for the better... however, this was so queer!!! After a good (not troubling) bath, we went for a walk; I happened to cross the butchers and bought him a big juicy bone. Then I met up with a few friends, but this pest didn't let me talk to them, everytime I started a conversation, he tugged at my jeans, pulling me away from everyone. I was quite upset with him, but as we reached home, his licks and whimpers melted my heart... I could never remain angry with him (you think he would ever let me!!!). He sat by my side as I watched my favourite soap, (which he hated) and did not leave me even when the much hated milkman arrived. Then I gave him some food and after he finished eating it, I hugged him and went to sleep. Turning a deaf ear to all those yelping, which I had learnt from experience, were attention seeking devices. After an hour when I was awake, I saw him lying on the floor. I loved the way he slept, I kept my hand on his head, which would have irritated him, but he didn't respond. “Bruno” I called out to him, in my soft tone, but he didn't respond- I screamed for my mother, who ran into the room- both of us tried to revive the old dog, but he didn't respond. The vet was called for, he checked Bruno, then looked at us, and said I a sober voice-“I'm sorry, he's no more.” My god was that true...!!! No that couldn't happen... that just couldn't... Bruno! Bruno couldn't be dead... he was; is, I chided myself, is a strong dog!!! He is my dog... my dog can't die!! I love my dog... he loves me too... so why did he leave me? “W...Why?” I asked the vet. “Old age... he lived a really long life.” No, Bruno wasn't old... we had just bought him!! And I remembered, we had bought him ten years back. He had grown up with me, and the years had passed really quickly. Why? Why did this have to happen, why did he have to go? Why? Didn't god know he was my dog, god-who was supposedly my friend!!! A few days passed and then I actually dared to think about that horrible day! The day when Bruno had left me... forever... And as I remembered each incident, I realized how Bruno had tried to make it the best day of my life... My dog behaved the way I had always wanted him to behave, he had made my day, but I remembered all the yelping and whimpering, as he tried to wake me up- the time he needed me the most, when he was leaving me and this house and this world. My dog had given me everything I needed of him, but me! I... I had ignored him...a tear trickled down my cheek. I felt ashamed of myself; I had not been able to give my dog, the one thing he had wanted... Tweet
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