Lucky One

Lucky One(Tiago Araujo) 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 life. 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 look 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 him 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 or 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 smell didn’t help at all. Everyone always said that when they where little they wanted a pet, but not me, I didn’t know what the hell I wanted 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 carried on with my life. That only changed when he saved me from 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 to look at him differently, knowing that we made an invisible bond of sorts.

Lucky had a full life, but as for 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 stayed in an old inn closed to the sea. Besides the inn keeper the only residents more were 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 smelled 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 tried 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 his 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 he would tell me from his look and I would take him for a walk. The inn keeper was persistent and after a while we said the dog could stay but outside on a leash. It didn´t appeal 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. At least the room was with 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 than 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 downstairs to feed him and perhaps go see the cities with him. As I went down it came to me the memories of when Lucky was my alarm clock, making me awake 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 his bowl, put some ham, eggs and toast. At his age his health wasn´t getting better no matter what he ate. I opened 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 shouted `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 sweating, perhaps from the hot weather. I shouted once more and loudly and in response heard a faint bark. Went outside again and looked everywhere. No sign. Before I started running like crazy looking for him. I decided to look inside the trash cans. Don´t know why but had to be sure. There he was. With a rope around his neck soaked in blood that he spew from his mouth. I lifted him out of there and hugged him, not caring for the foul smell. Took the rope off his neck and felt 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, treated like rubbish and thrown away just to in the end die in it again. There was no time. The sound of the sirens were 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 life. Has for me. I sure love my friend, and for that I treated him the best way I could.