II
He
was just a little black pup when I got him, all cute and cuddly. His short snout ended in that soft black
button nose covered in long white whiskers like an old man. His deep brown eyes absorbed all hate,
remorse, and sadness. They could fathom
my innermost feelings, and in an instant unlock the little boy that remained
hidden from my youth. How I loved that
dog. I loved him for all the little
surprises he left me in his youth. But
even on his darkest days all my disappointments would just melt away as he
snuggled up next to me in my bed on those cold winter nights.
As
we grew older, he grew too large for my bed, and instead he would sleep next to
my bed, low on the carpet floor. And
night after night he would remain there, my own little protector. Some nights he would groan and whimper, and
those were the nights where even, as large as he was, I let him up to sleep by
my side. But there were other nights
where alone and forsaken, I sought refuge down below my bed hugging my now big
black dog.
He
was my best friend. A friend who always
listened, and always had a big pink tongue ready to lift my spirits as I
struggled to get away from his loving slobber.
But he loved me and he was always happy to see me. Even after I yelled at him, he would still
come back to me tail between his legs and look up at me with those brown pits
knowing that I would forgive him. How
could I begrudge him that?
Eventually,
time passed and it grew time for me to leave him and start a new life at
college. I went away, but I remembered
him, at least at first. And then as so
often happens, life caught up with me and carried me fleetly away. Before too long I’d almost forgotten about my
brown eyed friend. He seemed like a
distant thought to me. And there were
times where I would return home and see him there all full grown, not so cute
as he was before, and I thought awww well at least I don’t have to take care of
him anymore. And somehow the thought
reassured me that my life was going in the right direction. And day after day my friend patiently waited,
perhaps hoping that I would return to him, that same little boy that had left
him.
And
then one day it happened, I returned home and was sitting by myself, when my
friend came out of the kitchen and wandered into my lap. And there I saw it again, those deep brown
eyes, those white whiskers, now turning gray.
And in them was the inviting question-Where have you been?
I
remember then, trying to reason that I had good reason for forgetting about my
friend. That somehow the life I lived
away was so much more important, but I couldn’t. Somehow in the race of life, I’d forgotten
something important.
And
now years later I look back and I remember those good times with that beautiful
black pup, and sometimes I wish I had spent more time with him, that somehow I
could go back and create more memories with that old friend. But then I see his eyes on that warm summer
day. And I see forgiveness and love, and
the hope of a friend. It’s one memory,
but it’s enough for this old dog.
And
it’s one I cherish.
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