How could you?

scob89

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#1
This is a short story I have been working on for awile but I still can't think of a good ending for it anyway here it is

How could you?



When I was a youg puppy, I entertained you with my antics and made you laugh. You called me your child, and despite a number of chewed shoes and a couple of murdered throw pillows, I became your best friend. Whenever I was "bad" youu'd shake your finger at me and ask "How could you?" but then you'd relent and roll me over for a belly rub.


My housebreaking took a little longer than expected, because you where terribly busy, but we worked on that together. I remember those nights of nuzzling you in bed and listening to your confidences and secret dreams, and I believed thar life could not get anymore perfect.


We went for long walks and runs in the park,car rides, stops for ice cream (I only got the cone because "ice cream is bad for dogs" you said), and took long naps in the sun waiting for you to come home at the end of the day.


Gradually, you began spending more time at work and on you career, and more time searching for a human mate. I waited for you patiently,comforted you through heartbreaks and disappointments, never chided you about bad desisions, and romded with glee at your homecomings, and when you fell in love. She, now your wife, is not a dog person I still welcomed her into our home, tried to show her affection, and obeyed her. I was happy because you where happy.


Then the human babies came along and I shared your excitement. I was fascinated by their pinkness, how they smelled, and I wanted to mother them, too. Only she and you worried that I might hurt them, and spent most of my time banished to another room, or to a dog crate. Oh, how I wanted to love them, but I became a prisoner of love. As they began to grow, I became their friend. They clung to my fur and pulled themselves up on wobbly legs, poked fingers in my eyes, investigated my ears, and gave me kisses onmy nose. I loved everything about them and their touch because your touch was now so infrequent and I would've defended them with my life if need be. I would sheak into their beds and listen to their worries and secret dreams, and together we waited for the sound of your car in the drive way.


There had been a time, when others asked you if you had a dog, that you produced a photo of me from your wallet and told them stories about me. These past few years, you just answered "yes" and changed the subject. I had gone from being "your dog" to "just a dog," and you resented every expenditure on my behalf.


Now, you have a new career opportunity in another city, and you and your family will be moving the an apartment that does not allow pets. You've made the right devision for your "family," but there was a time when I was your only family. I was excited about the car ride until we arrived at theanimal shelter. It smelled of dogs and cats, of fear, of hopelessness. You filled out the paper work and said "I know you will fing a good home for her." They shrugged and gave you a pained look. They understand the realities facing a middle-aged dog, even one with "papers." You had to pry your son's fingers loose from my collar as he screamed "No, Daddy! Please don't let them take my dog!" And I worried for him, and what lessons you had just taughthim about friendship and loyalty, about love andresponsibility, and about respect for all life.


You gave me a good-bye pat on the head, avoided my eyes, and politely refused to take my collar and leash with you. You had a deadline to meet and now I have one, too. After you left, the two nice ladies said you probably knew about your upcoming move months ago and made no attempt to find me another good home. They shook their heads and asked "How could you?" They are as attentive to us here in the shelter as their busy schedules allow. they feed us, of course, but I lost my appetite days ago.At first, whenever anyone passed my pen, I rushed to the front, hoping it was you that you had changed your mind-that this was all a bad dream or I hoped it would at least be someone who cared, anyone who might save me. When I realized I could not compete with the frolicking for attention of happy puppies, oblivious to their own fate, I retreated to a far corner and waited. I heard her footsteps as she came for me at the end of the day, and I padded along the aisle after her to a separate room. A blissfully quiet room. She placed me on the table and rubbed my ears, and told me not to worry. My heart pounded in anticipation of what was to come, but there was also a sense of relief. As is my nature, I was more concerned about her. The burden which she bears weighs heavily on her, and I know that, the same way I knew your every mood. She gently placed a touriquet around my foreleg as a tear ran down her cheek. I licked her hand in the same way I used to confort you so many years ago. She expertly slid the hypodermic needle into my vein. As I felt the sting and the cool liquid coursing through my body, I lay down sleepily, looked into her eyes and murmred "How could you?" Perhaps because she understood my dogspeak, she said "I'm so sorry." She hugged me, and hurriedly explained it was her job to make sure I went to a better place, where I wouldn't be ignored or abused or abandoned, or have to fend for myself. A place of love and light so very different from this earthly place.
 

Desteny

Save a life: Rescue
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#3
I love that one...I am giving a copy of it to my Writing instructor today. I'm going to turn it in like any other piece of homework..in the homework basket. She'll read it when she gets home :)
 
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#4
Scob89....YOU did not write that story. I've seen it in books and other places. You should be ashamed for trying to pass someone else's work off as your own. It's also illegal. It's called plagerism. Look it up.

Pam
 

scob89

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#11
thewhitewitchone said:
Scob89....YOU did not write that story. I've seen it in books and other places. You should be ashamed for trying to pass someone else's work off as your own. It's also illegal. It's called plagerism. Look it up.

Pam
I never said that I wrote it I said that i have been working on it for awhile which meant that I have been trying to find a better ending to it. And thanks for bringing up this post again because I completley forgot about this and need to start working on the better ending again.
 

bubbatd

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#13
Yes...it's been around for a while and the ending has been written.....to change the ending, you have to start in the middle.
 
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#15
To say that "this is a short story I've been working on" is implying that you wrote the story. And then you go on to say that you can't think of a good ending for it...
Who are you trying to fool? BUSTED. It's plagerism.

Pam
 

keyodie

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#16
ok lets stop accusing people of plagirism online and start commenting on the story please? No offense.

That is so sad! I almost cried. I hate it how it says how the dog is excited when he/she finds out he/she will die lol...great story though.
 

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