Although I wrote this about a year ago it still brings a lump to my throat whenever I read it. This is my sentimental anniversary week so I hope you will forgive me and enjoy the story.
For reasons which will become obvious there is no accompanying picture for this one
A tail of love and life.
There were four of us when I was young. Like all siblings we fought and scrapped together but being male and the strongest, if not the eldest, I usually won.
Dad wasn’t around to keep us in check, and as I got bigger Mum stopped trying to control me. The people who owned the house we lived in sometimes tried to scold me, but after a while they too gave up. At one stage there was even talk of sending me away as they thought I was getting out of control, but I kept it cool for a while and they dropped the idea.
This was my neighbourhood, and I didn’t want to move somewhere else and have to start all over again to prove myself. Here on the streets I had respect. I knew them, and they knew me and kept their distance. If some flash youngster wanted to take me on, a look and a glare were usually enough to make him back down.
Now and again they would push too far, and I would have to prove I still had what it takes. It wouldn’t be long before they had to retreat and peace would reign until the next time.
I will never forget the day my life changed.
There I was, doing nothing in particular, just enjoying the fresh air and thinking of heading home for dinner when Bam! She was standing on the corner, perfectly groomed with big brown eyes to die for. I tried to say ‘Hello’ and for a moment she looked interested, but then the woman she was with turned and started walking off. After a brief backward glance the female of my dreams followed her.
For the next few days I scoured the streets but couldn’t catch a glimpse of her. I was so besotted that some of the district brothers started spreading stories I had gone soft, so for a while every day was conflict until I had put them back in their place.
Quite by chance I was wandering one day in a neighbourhood I didn’t usually visit and there she was, looking out of the window of an enormous posh house, obviously owned by the sort of people I despised.
Suddenly she saw me and her eyes lit up.
Sliding through the half open gate I went into the garden, but suddenly a big fat woman, probably a servant, came rushing out screaming and brandishing a broom, telling me she didn’t want my sort around here and to get back to where I belonged before she called the authorities to have me locked up.
On that occasion I beat a strategic retreat but that didn’t stop me going back time and time again, usually with the darkness of night as cover. Often she wasn’t there, but the odd occasion when I managed to catch a glimpse of her was enough to keep me returning despite the dangers.
One perfect, unbelievable evening she was actually in the garden, and I had a few minutes to get to know her before someone inside the big house called her to say dinner was ready.
After that I made it a point to be there at the same time every evening; sometimes she was free to come and see me, sometimes there was no sign of her.
Then came the night I will remember all my life. I was just on the point of giving up when she emerged from the front door and headed straight for the bushes where I was hiding. My animal instincts took off and we had carnal relations, right there and then in the bushes, under the cover of darkness.
All too soon the hated voices called and she had to leave me to return indoors, to what I had come to think of as her prison. I visited her often over the next nine weeks, seeing her blossom and bloom as her belly swelled with my offspring.
I suffered when I didn’t see her until that glorious day when she came into the garden, followed by three of the most beautiful pups you have ever seen. Well, with the mixture of my genes and hers, what would you expect?
I’m not a pedigree like her, so I realise I will never get to know my offspring. I hope they haven’t been drowned or put down, and pray they have found a loving home somewhere. Although I never saw my lovely bitch again I will always remember her.
I’m at the vets now, the injection is poised. In human years I’m probably well into my 90s, so I’ve had a good life and I’m not afraid to leave it now. I hope one of my pups survived to be loved for themselves by a human family who think mongrels are worth more than pedigrees.
Slipping away now, hope God likes Dogs.