lucky one

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
man takes old dog on a last trip to the sea.

Submitted: November 08, 2016

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Submitted: November 08, 2016

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Lucky One

Having a dog is the best thing you can have in the all wide world. Take care of one and you are set with a friend for live. Has for me, I sure love my dog for that and threat him the best way I can.

The years went by and, even in is old age, at least for me, he still had that same looked of innocence and fragility since my dad brought him in. He found him in the trash inside a garbage bag one morning and I remember he saying that pup was the lucky one because all his brothers and sisters where dead. My family moved a lot when I was a kid and we never stay long in a town. There was never time or reason to make acquaintances be with the neighbors or with other children so my dad suggested if I wanted the pup, perhaps to build character and responsibility I don’t know. At first I didn’t like him since he looked like a sewer rat and the smelled didn’t help at all. Everyone always say that when they where little they want a pet but not me, I didn’t know what the hell I want but a smelly rat sure wasn’t it. I guess you take what you can get and try to make the best of it but I simple didn’t think much about that dog at first. Just named him Lucky and carry on with my live.  That only changed when he saved me form a group of kids that beat me up for whatever reason. He chased them away and when he came back, to see if I was alright, I started too looked at him differently knowing that we made an invisible bound of shorts.

Lucky had a full life and as you and for me and everyone else it would have to end someday. I decided to take him to the sea and spend with him his last days that would sure come swift like a cold storm but also gentle like a summer breeze. We stay in an old inn closed to the sea. Besides the inn keeper the only residents more where an old couple bathing in the sun that, at first when we arrived, seemed like two statues from one of those Etruscan sarcophagus. Lucky went to them and smell the sleeping old man ´s bald head, which made him awake up in a startle. His wife, who had a Gollum like hair and was a nasty looking person, also didn’t share the innocent and care free greeting of Lucky. She started to yell in an annoying screeching voice, saying Lucky try to attack her husband and was going to call the police. ´That rabies, flee infested old mutt should be put down of his misery´ she said. I only replied ´Good morning to you to´ and went inside to rent a room. The inn keeper wasn´t very keen to let a dog sleep, eat and walk inside is establishment and make a mess of things. I assured him I would pay for any trouble he might cause, even though I knew he wouldn’t. Lucky was old but didn´t need to wear diapers and if he had to go I would tell me from his look and take him for a walk. The inn keeper was persistent and after a while we said the dog could stay but outside on a leach. It didn´t appealed to me to have my buddy out there, not much for the weather, it was summer and the nights where quite warm, but he could be attacked by other dogs or something else. Al least the room was whit a view that let me see him down there and he could see me too making us both feel assured. There was no cause for alarm. Needless to say the old couple was quite bitter towards my presence, more because of my acquaintance then for my personal self. After eating my dinner and feeding Lucky I went to sleep, but not before giving a quick glance to him, to see if everything was alright. Wake up with the morning sun and came down stairs to feed him and perhaps go seen the cities with him. As I went down it came to me the memories of when Lucky was my alarm clock, making me awaking up early to feed him and at the same time making me seize more of the day. Once you get up in the morning you can´t go back to sleep so easily, at least for me. Grab is bowl, put some ham, eggs and toast. At is age is health wasn´t getting better no matter what he ate. Open the back door of the inn and he wasn´t there. There was no sight of him. Like a mad man I went inside to the living room and shout `Where is my dog? What did you do to him`. The couple smirked, ´We don´t know and don´t care. That rat probably had what was coming to him`. The inn keeper didn’t like that, he seemed stressed when I looked at him, slightly sweat, perhaps from the hot weather. I shouted one more and loudly time for him and in response eared a faint bark. Went outside again and looked everywhere. No sign. Before I start running like crazy looking for him I decide to look inside the trash cans. Don´t know why but ad to be sure. There we was. With a rope around his neck soaked in blood that he spew from his mouth. I lifted him out of there and hug him not caring for the fouled smell. Took the rope of his neck and fell so mad that I knew what needed to be done.

The sun was setting. The grave was large enough. Carefully I laid him down and buried him. At least he has a nice view to the sea. As I laid there mourning beside him I could only think of what was the point of it all. To be born, threaded like rubbish and thrown away just to in the end die in it again. There was no time. The sound of the sirens where approaching and they appalled me to the sea. Perhaps there they won´t follow me. Perhaps there they couldn’t smell me. Having a friend is the best thing you can have in the all wide world. Take care of him and you are set for live. Has for me I sure love my friend, and for that I threat him the best way I could.


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