Victro Finds It
By Mike Stevens
This was getting very old! The dog known as Victro shuffled his paws forward with listless sameness. He just had to keep moving, but why? he thought. Gray clouds spit freezing drizzle, which covered him in a gray veil. God, was he ever hungry! He cut through the yard of a big house. Suddenly, a big dog came out of the night, and was on Victro before he had time to think. It was a nightmare of slashing fangs. He never fought back; just broke free and ran.
He thought of himself as a fairly tough character, but the pain was unbearable, and a crimson stain covered his leg where the attacking dog had sunk his fangs. Now, his misery was complete! He had nowhere to go, and now he had to get there on a bum leg. He limped painfully along the road. His stomach growled painfully, and his leg burned. Up ahead was a house, lights blazing. He was wary now before approaching a house; his weary eyes scanned this way and that for a mean dog, but the coast looked to be clear. He started by the house when the front door opened, and a little girl started walking the sidewalk towards the street. Victro could do nothing else but stand there and watch her. She caught site of him, and said,
“Oh, what a cute dog; are you lost?”
Victro just sat staring, as he had no idea what she’d said. His damaged leg was killing him!
“Are you hungry, is that it?”
The word ‘hungry’, he did understand. He wagged his tail; even that hurt his leg. Unbelievably, she turned back towards the house without another word. She was just going to leave him here! But after she’d taken a few steps, she turned and looked at him, where he sat looking miserable, and said,
“Well, come on dog; let’s go back to my house and I’ll ask my mom if she can’t find you something to eat.”
Victro just knew that as soon as the girl’s mother got a look at him, he’d be flung back into the void of straydom. The very thought of more aimless walking, and on his bum leg, was unbearable. But when the got to the house, and the little girl explained, the mother looked sympathetically at him, and said,
“Oh, you poor thing; I’ll see what I can find for you to eat, then I’ll take a look at that leg; it looks bad!”
Of coarse, Victro couldn’t understand the words, but read the sympathetic look on her face; and was happy.
Two weeks had past; two weeks of good food and a lot of attention. The little girl and all the adults referred to Victro as Elvis, which he didn’t quite understand, but was slowly getting used to his new name. He fattened up with regular food, and his wounded leg was healed, thanks to the wrapping of clean gauze, and regular cleaning the mother had given him. On day, he heard the little girl say,
“Mom, since nobody answered the found-dog ad we put in the paper, can we keep him?”
“Yes, Clara, as long as you understand that taking care of an animal is quite a responsibility. You’ll have to feed him, wash him, and see that he’s not out running free.”
“Yes Mother, I can do that!”
“Okay, then, I’ll get him tags, take him to the vet to see if he’s fixed, vaccinated, and see how that leg’s looking, then Elvis will be YOUR dog!”
“Come on, Elvis, let’s go to bed!” the little girl named Clara said, patting the mattress.
The dog formally known as Victro leaped onto the bed, and curled up at the foot, after being petted by Clara. Life was good!