Puppy Love

In the beginning he was just a teeny tiny ball of black fluff. He was nervous and would shake until we picked him up and cuddled him close. We were more than happy to accommodate him. He was the most adorable snuggly thing imaginable. He'd jump about so excited when we brought out the leash and took him for walks. At first, he'd tug and he'd pull then he'd lag behind. Sometimes he'd slip right out of his collar. But we gently taught him to walk right by our side. Soon he learned to stay with us, even without a leash. Though he'd tucker out halfway home and I'd have to carry him back.

He grew and he changed. His black fluff became silver streaked black fur. Now secure in his new home, he no longer trembled with nervousness. Now he trembled with excitement. I'd grown and changed too. He quickly learned what it meant when I put on my shoes with the laces. He'd jump and he'd squeak. He'd race back and forth between the spot where his leash was kept and where I was hunched over tying my shoes, wagging his stubby tail wildly. Despite still being small, he knocked me over more than once in his excitement. I'd finish tying my shoes and snap on his leash. Then we'd go run. I'm not sure who loved it more. He'd always stay at my side, keeping the same pace. The most perfect running companion of all. But sometimes we'd run into a beast who had no leash and was far larger than him. Then he still needed me to pick him up in my arms and carry him to safety.

But life moves along and life changes. I had college then marriage and a bundle of joy. I'd come home for visits and he'd jump about eagerly when we walked in the door. He'd stand guard over the baby and would hop up in my lap to be closer, just in case. Then the baby began tugging on fur and toddling after him as he'd run to his room to hide in his bed. Then he'd run back to me so I could pick him up where he was safe from the toddling terror.

But his jumping turned to limping and his eyes grew tired. Each time I saw him, he seemed more frail and weak. He didn't know it yet, but I knew his time was growing short. There were no more options to try. That last time I went down to my parents, it had been years since I had gone running with my buddy. I was in no condition to go running with my belly swollen ready to pop in a few weeks. Meaning to take a quick trip to the store, I grabbed my shoes to strap on my feet and as I bent down to do them up I saw the sweet little silver and black pup limp slowly toward me, his little stub tail doing it’s best to wag excitedly, though it was clear he was in so much pain. With tears streaming over my cheeks, I scooped up my best little buddy and sat down with him in the nearby rocking chair. I pulled him close and cried.

Oh, how I would miss snuggling with my best little companion.

Oh, how I wished we could go running one last time.

He nuzzled into my chest, relieved that he got to just cuddle on my lap. He rumbled contentedly and listened as I thanked him for being the very best dog a girl could ask for. All too soon, I had to let him go and say goodbye. Finally, he’s running free again, with no more pain.

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The Tale of This Tale:

About a decade ago, I started compiling a small collection of different types of love stories. I wanted to tell a story that conveyed the feeling of love through the interactions of the characters without the need to define it. All the stories were inspired by people around me. Some, like this one, were real events while others were stories I created that I felt fit the relationship of those in the story. Some were stories of parents and children, others were meaningful friendships, and a few explored romantic love. This tale was the story of the love of a girl for her dog.

I was the girl, Weedy was my puppy.

Most of the stories I only jotted down the beginning of ideas, but never finished them. The few I did finish, I set aside waiting for time to finish the rest of my collection. I have previously published another story from this collection (I have included a link below) and as part of my quest to finish and post my abandoned tales, I expect to publish many others.

Why am I publishing these now? Because I issued myself a challenge to resurrect at least 50 of my abandoned tales this year. It's a personal mission to help me finally finish some long awaited stories and give them a home outside my cluttered basement.