The Stray by Me (little bear else holmelund minarik .txt) 📖

The day I met the old stray dog was a cold day in December and it was right after my one of my mother’s numerous Christmas party. It was my job to take out the scraps after each meal and so I was kept busy during these after hours. I was twelve going on thirteen and I was always reclined to do this job but it was a small price to pay for most of the freedom she gave me. There was no other kid in my neighborhood that was my age, so I was lonely in my free time. I had an older brother named Luke who was always too busy for me. He was sixteen with a life of his own and didn't want to waste his time with a little kid like me. My father had long since been gone, though every time I'd get in trouble my mother would say, “If your father was here." One time during the usual lecture I'd ask where he was, my mother simply replied, “He’s on vacation Micheal, now finish your dinner." If I'd ask my brother he'd just tell me to shut up and go away. So when I met the dog you could say I was desperate for a friend.

When I first saw the old dog, it wasn’t much. Just an old, starving, white and gray dog, with blue eyes, covered in dirt. Those blue eyes… I think that’s what made me stop and watch that lonely being. They were light as a blue sky on a summer morning and showed wisdom. Staring into them… I think I caught a glimpse of something extraordinary. That’s when I noticed the stray staring at the scraps and I felt such an ache in my heart at this poor thing's life, I could do nothing but place the old food down and let it eat. When I tried to touch its filthy fur the dog growled and so I backed off and went inside my house. My mother was in the kitchen making dinner and said, "Micheal go wash up! And change out those filthy clothes! If your father was here..."

So on it went, me feeding the dog the scraps and that dog growling every time I took a step to pet it. One day, the dog came up to me and pressed its wet nose against my hand. I was so surprised by this gesture of the bond we had grown that I didn’t know what to do. So I just pat it on the head a couple times and put down its usually scraps, then walked into my home. Only to feel something pressed against my legs. When I turned around I saw it was the dog pressing his head into me. So I sat down and scratched his head for a few more minutes. Then I heard my mother calling me for dinner. So I got up, stretched my legs, and then walked into my house to let the dog eat in peace.

That night, I had awful nightmares of dying. I was lying in the street and I couldn’t breathe. Every few seconds I would have these terrible spasms. I felt as if my very soul was being wrestled from my body. I saw a flash of a face and I recognized immediately as mine. Then the pain stopped and at once I knew I was dead. That’s when I bolted up from bed with my sheets heavy with sweat. I didn’t sleep the rest of the night. As soon as the sun came up I wrote a note for my mother and went to search for the dog. I didn’t have to walk far to see it coming down the street, crossing King’s Avenue for its usual meal. That’s when I heard it. It was the roaring of an engine that had no intention of stopping for anything, certainly not a stray dog. It was speeding down the street, a blur to my eyes. The car struck down the dog and kept going. At first I couldn’t breathe. When I regained the ability to pump air back, I ran down to the dog and tried to pick its heavy body up. It was impossible. The dog weighed about one hundred pounds more than me. By the time my mom found me it was too late. Its life was long gone. So I just stopped and stared down at that dog and let the tears flow. It felt like forever.

We buried the dog in my backyard. It took some convincing on my part. That night my mother made my favorite meal roast and mashed potatoes. Even Luke was nicer to me. After dinner, Luke took me by the grave of the old stray. He said he was going to tell me why dad left. "Micheal you were just three, so you don't remember this, but at one time we had a dog named Henry. Dad was a terrible drunk, he almost made us go into debt because of it, and Dad blamed Henry saying things like, ‘That dog is a waste of money!' One day driving home Dad saw Henry on his chain and decided to take care of him. He...he ran Henry down with his truck. I was sitting on the step and I saw the whole thing. I ran up to dad and screamed at him that he was a lazy, good for nothing drunk, and that we'd all be better without him. He just looked at me a moment, then got in his car, and drove away." Luke wiped away a tear and said, “That’s why Dad left." Then Luke got up and went back into the house and left me alone in front of the newly dug grave. I just stood there, reminiscing about those blue eyes and wondering what was going to happen now.

Publication Date: 06-09-2011

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