Auston Ricks
Stories (2)
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To My Dog
Dog. I know you don’t remember when we met, you were too young. I needed gas , back when I thought $3.10 was a lot per gallon, and you where with a homeless man who was shoeless, sitting on a five gallon bucket . He had a cardboard sign, but not one daring me to hit him with a quarter, or asking for anything, instead his sign said “pit bull puppy’s”. I stopped and he had only you. “$200?” Said the man. I searched my pocket and found only 4 twenties. Your blue eyes pleaded at me, they have since turned gold. “I’ll give you $80, and you can forget about this dog for good.” He handed you to me and I paid him. We listened to rock and roll as you sat nervously on my lap on the ride home. As I sang the songs on the radio you started to loosen up, you still love it when I sing to you. I named you from one of those many songs that played as we drove home sealing our fate together as best friends for the remanding years of your life. Selfishly sometimes I wish it were for the remaining years of mine.
By Auston Ricks 4 years ago in Petlife
