Dogs are the mirrors of our souls. When I see a dog
suffer, I feel the world’s most profound sadness.
A Dog’s Life on a Page
My name was Vromas[1]
(it showed how much appreciated I was and how much effort went into my
hygiene). I was found by a little girl and imposed on an old lady, who may have
well loved me in her own way.
I was cute but never
showed because, as I said before, I
never had the luxury of a bath. Nor did I get any vaccines or anti parasite
protection. But I was robust and only too happy to serve.
I shared my space with
other dogs—in fact I picked a few fights with a male who left us before I did.
I gave him a bite or two, but nothing fatal .(Talking of fatal!) For a couple
of years I was chained because I lived in the proximity of hens and chickens,
and as you know, dogs love chasing them.
I grew old gracefully in
an enclosed space and would have probably carried on living happily, but it
wasn’t meant to be. A fancy dog was given shelter in my enclosure (dog owners
often get tired of their pets but some of them can’t bear the guilt of putting
them in the street). So anyway one day the fancy dog turned on me in a really
nasty way and mauled me around the neck. Blood everywhere and screaming from my
owner, but to no avail.
I was wrapped in a towel
and left to my own resources for a few hours until another dog owner (unintentionally
responsible for some puppies’ death and burdened with guilt) took the
initiative to take me to the vet –together with her husband.
I was laid softly on the
back seat of the car and driven to the vet. I was still conscious and when she
turned round to look at me, I riveted my eyes on her trying to tell her it was
no good. But she refused reality at point blank.
The vet was nice. He
cleaned my wounds and put me on a drip. He even gave me a relaxing warm bath
(the only one in my life) and removed my ticks. The people who brought me here
visited every day but I was long gone – far too advanced in age and weary with
life.
My eyes, a thousand words,
will haunt one of them maybe for a long time, but memories fade. Humans forget
humans – let alone dogs.
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