But I had no choice.

StoryKettle » Molasses » dog

Copyright © 2008, Michael M Wayman

Fuckin' dog! I don't need no dog. I hate dogs. Cats are even worse. Why do I have to have a dog?

I've got a dog. No, I didn't want it. I hate pets. But I had no choice. I've got a dog.

Groan! I've got a dog and I have to accept the fact. So what do you do with a dog? No, I'm not going to drown it. I don't hate animals, I eat them or they keep a long way away from me. No pets! But I've got to do something. What?

It, the dog, was standing in the corner, it wasn't happy. I'll take it for a walk. It had a collar. I bent down to tie some string to it, I must buy a lead, and the dog looked at me as if I was going to stick a sword through it.

That broke my heart.

I'm a fairly thick-skinned sort of person, not very emotional, but someone had been very unkind to that dog. This is going to be difficult. The dog, my dog, had been maltreated and I'm having difficulty holding back my tears. Go for a walk!

I took the dog for a short walk around the fields. It kept close to me all the way. I did not let it off the string. I bought a lead, a dog basket, two bowls and some dog food. It was hungry.

Over the weeks I took it for many walks – I got fitter and the dog put on weight – it looked healthier. I didn't give the dog a name – did it have a name? I never had to call to it – it always stayed close to me – it never barked or yelped.

The dog learned what the magic word WALKIES meant – it liked walks I think.

Perhaps the dog was happier, I don't know. I tried to be kind to it. Once in the middle of a field I let it off the lead – what a mistake – it just stood there and shook – I quickly put the lead back on.

Funny thing about dogs and babies is that other people who have dogs or babies want to talk to you. This is quite interesting. I soon became a member of the Great Group Of People Who Take Their Dogs For Walks Around The Fields or GROPE for short.

The other dogs ignored my dog and my dog ignored every dog and every person including me – a really screwed-up dog.

There was one girl in GROPE that talked to me a lot – I took a fancy to her – a pity about her dog. It was a sheep dog, that is, it looked like a sheep. A big woolly white thing that moved about – which end was which was not clear to me. It was called Trousers.

Trousers was always doing what it should not have been doing and she was always shouting at it. One day it did something right – it stayed still. Oh, she said, dead Trousers! Yes! It really is dead. Trousers has been ill for months. What do I do now?

This was a very good question. We were a long way from home, in the middle of the woods, and dead Trousers was very big. What now?

I had a very good answer. Oh! I said, I'll walk home, you stay here and I'll bring back a spade and we can bury dead Trousers here.

Was my idea bad! And I mean real bad. It was the last thing to say to someone who had just lost their beloved pet dog. Totally practical and totally tactless. Me and my big mouth!

However she accepted the idea. Shall I hold your dog's lead while you get the spade?

Oh, yes! But please be kind to it. The dog is very sensitive. It needs a lot of tender loving care. Please be careful with it. Please hold the lead tight and keep the dog close to you. Maybe one day it will become normal.

She took the lead and said, I will be kind to you, you are so sensitive, you need a lot of tender loving care. I will be careful with you, I will hold you tight and close to me. Perhaps one day you will become normal again.

Have you read ravioli has it and dogs?