Teardrops in the Flowers

Pain tingled up my spine and throbbed in my skull as I lifted my head. I set my head back down. My mouth felt dry, like a parched desert that received no rainfall in years. I panted, but even that offered no relief. Then I think of you. My Beloved Master. Where are you? I miss you. I'm waiting for you to return. I often drift into the memories of the past, wondering when you would be back. And today, my mind wanders to First Day. I was six months old, sleeping in my tiny cage in a pet store. I heard the door open with a metallic creak and suddenly I was in your arms under the bright luminescence of light. You stroked my tail and I stirred; you had interrupted my daily nap. You spoke to the woman that took care of me, and I never saw her again.

I had to be “housebroken” first. Whatever that meant. You wouldn’t let me sleep inside. I spent a month in the tiny red painted shed outside your house. It was November. The chilly air stung my lungs when I drew in a breath. Sometime in that month, I was dozing in that little shed and the fragrance of meat drifted under my nose. Following the scent, I found a cooling plate of turkey on the counter. Its glistening gleam beckoned at me and with a crash, I was on it, nibbling away. You came rushing in, scolding me in harsh human sounds. I caught the words “stupid” and “how could you”. They were masked under a veil of anger.

There was First Ice Cream. I was obediently sitting at your feet. In your hand was a cone dripping with gelato. A drop slid down crispy sugar brown wafer, leaving a darkened trail in its wake. I stuck my tongue out and flavor struck. It was so good. I jumped up, lapping furiously at the cold surface of ice cream. Laughing and petting my head, you shook your finger at me, saying ice cream was not good for dogs. You let me eat the cone though.

We played fetch your backyard. You would throw a bright green ball and said, “Fetch!” Your wish is my command, I thought. But you said “fetch” every time, which was a thing I puzzled over for a long time. I would have retrieved that ball for you, even if you had not ordered me to. But what you wished will be given to you and I will make sure of that.

There was a little boy who you loved more that yourself. More than me too. He was quite annoying, if I do say so myself. But I loved him, as you loved him. I had to love who you loved. Isn’t that what a servant does for his master? Then one day, the little boy turned a fine morning into a gasp of horror, a scream of pain, a cry of death. A car sped towards him, sure of its movement, its destiny. With a wet screech that drove itself deep into my soul, metal hit bone in a sickening thwack. He didn’t even cry. As you raced toward the mess of disassembled limbs, I knew it was too late. I stood on the tall wavering stalks of grass and noticed a flower. A misty drop quivered on the petal and slid into the dirt. It left a darkened spot where the soil sucked it in. I could smell its disdain for the situation.

Then another boy entered my life and you would do anything for him. But tragedy struck again. Fate never goes in the direction one desires. He lifted a gun to that kid’s temple, threatening to pull the trigger if you didn’t hand over your wallet. You lifted a trembling hand holding your wallet. Shaking with uncontrollable anger, I launched myself at his arm and tore it away from his body. It came away with a satisfying rip. The howl that tore its way out of the attacker’s mouth sent chills down my spine. I sang my own tune in perfect harmony to his, I must add. Then a loud explosion rocked the alley and a million pounds of dynamite was set off in my leg. I buried my nose under your arm as you called 911. There were a few weeds that grew out of the cracks of the pavement. Shiny beads of red dotted their faces. They were an opaque red and carried no sadness in them. Only pain. The rest of the night was dim and hazy after the bite of the needle that stung my leg. But I still caught the words “stupid” and “why did you”. Such familiar words.

You spent your time on the phone. You were constantly talking to someone on it and never paid attention to me. My night were spent in the little red shed again, fuming over my leg, angry that I couldn’t run. Then one night you came out. I jumped up, barking. You were crying and twinkling drops of water splashed out of your eyes. They fell onto the lawn, sparkling and hit the grass. I don’t like seeing my master cry, so I licked your face. You cooed at me in a soft, comforting voice and said words like “how could you”, “life saver” and “why did you” and “stupid dog”. I was confused. Weren’t those words suppose to be angry?

The next day, you clipped my leash on. I jumped up, excited, thinking that we were finally going for a walk. But instead, you lead me into your car. I was hesitant to enter such a privileged area, but under your beckoning, I hopped in, favoring my aching leg. The tires started with a screeching wail, just like the sound of that car’s tires when it hit that boy. I yelped in surprise. The building we were going to held the boring shade of gray. The smell of antiseptics hit my nose as you carried me in. I didn’t get it. Why was I not allowed to walk on my own? You talked to the man behind the counter. He had a surprised look on her face, but then replaced it with a sympathetic one. You said, “It was a rusted bullet. I don’t want her to suffer.” He replied, “I understand.” Then there was an exchange of paper and cards and you started to walk away. I followed you, like the good dog I am, but you bent down and told me, “Don’t follow me, please. Wait here. Let them take care of your.” Tears squeezed their way out of the corners of your eye as you spoke. But you were my master and I must heed and never betray. So I waited. And I am still waiting.

That was seven days ago. A week. Today something new happened. A woman opened my cage and instead of filling my bowl with a tiny cup of water and a morsel of food, she carried me to a room and set me down on a table. The coldness of the metal soaked through my skin and chilled me to the bone. I felt numb. She held a tube filled with clear solution that had the same translucent state as your tears. She slid the sharp needle into my neck and pushed the plunger. I could feel the liquid emptying into me, blurring my vision, filling me with warmth. And it was at that moment I realized that you had betrayed me. I thumped my tail and I tried to escape the comfort of oblivion. But I couldn’t escape the inevitable. I kept thumping my tail, trying to convey with my eyes to the woman, that I would love you forever. Whatever you did was for the common good. I would wait until the end of the world for you, my Beloved Master.