Congratulations !
You have been awarded points.
Thank you for !
- Story Listed as: Fiction For Teens
- Theme: Family & Friends
- Subject: Pets / Animal Friends
- Published: 01/29/2017
The plush queen size bed in our room consisted of just the perfect amount of space for us. The bed was undone because, as usual, Willow was running late to work. Underneath the bed was where I stored all my owner’s socks. I think it made her mad when she didn’t have a matching pair in her drawer, but it was worth it because when she tore apart her room to look for them, I couldn’t stop laughing. The windows looked out onto the street and allowed me the perfect view to people watch. I always found myself jealous of the people walking into the Heaven Shop. Constantly, the voice of the old man yelling, “next in line!” made its way up to our apartment. My dream was to break into the Heaven Shop and feast myself on the glory within, but unfortunately, it didn’t happen.
Willow’s chair, a tall one with a cushion on top, could be found at the end of the island in the kitchen. My spot was located on the floor right next to it. Willow bought me a placemat with two matching bowls. One for water and one for food. We always ate together. No matter how hungry I was or how late Willow was, I never ate without her. Partly because I enjoyed company and also because my food was not stored in a place that was accessible for me. My favorite part of everyday was the moment when Willow walked through the door. It made me feel so special because she always greeted me with a huge kiss on the top of my head and a big hug. Her arms wrapped around me, holding on so tightly, gave me the feeling that she may never let go. There was never a time where I didn’t feel loved. Willow became so good at making me happy. She gave me so much attention, and even sometimes a bone! I guess I can blame that for part of the reason why I am a little out of shape.
One Wednesday, I especially couldn’t wait for Willow to come home because I was feeling hungrier than usual. Right in front of the wood front door was where I laid longing for Willow’s return. Time passed by as I waited and waited. It felt like I had been sitting in front of that door for hours. The fine lines and crevices of that door were imprinted in my mind like the back of my paw by the end of the night. Where was Willow? Did something happen to her? Worry grew to such a great extent within me that when she eventually walked through the door, I didn’t even realize. “I’m sorry little guy, I took longer than I expected. I am really tired tonight buddy,” she said as she lightly patted my head and very slowly she placed her belongings on the table as she lingered to our bedroom.
What? She was joking right. No kiss on the top of my head, no playtime, and most important, no dinner? She didn’t look happy to see me like she usually does. The moment Willow stepped foot through the door, it was easy to sense that there was something on her mind. She seemed very worn out from something. Her eyes were red and puffy. A faint aroma of something that reminded me of the vet was in the air. Why would Willow be at the vet? As I walked to our bedroom, white fliers flew off from on top of her coat to the floor due to the draft that constantly passed through our apartment. If only I could read. Instead, without thinking, I did what all hungry dogs do. I chewed on the papers. Hopefully, they weren’t important. After, I found myself even more hungry than when I began, but there was nothing I could do.
The door to our bedroom was closed. I whimpered in hopes that Willow would open the door, but after minutes of constant begging, the door remained shut. A dim sound came from inside the bedroom, it sounded like Willow was crying.
The beeping of the alarm in our bedroom made its way to the hallway, where I slept that night, and woke me up. Everything seemed pretty normal so I went about my daily routines. Stretch, cuddle with Willow, and then eat breakfast. It felt so good to finally eat something of substance. Those papers hadn’t really done me any justice. “Max. Time for your walk,” Willow said in a low toned voice.
She leashed me up which took longer than usual because her hands were trembling and very fidgety. It was evident that there was something bothering Willow. She just wasn’t her normal self. She was constantly moping around with her head down, looking weak. At some points, I wondered if she would ever be happy and energetic again. This went on for days. The days turned into weeks. Then, one afternoon Willow came home, and her hair was gone. I jogged my mind for the things I knew about losing hair. As to be expected, there was nothing stored in there relating to hair loss or anything of the sort. Her body looked brittle, as if one jump up on her lap would break her. There was no explanation I could find as to what was going on. Why would Willow want to cut off all of her hair?
Loneliness grew upon me. With Willow only coming home very late each night, not interacting with me, and then leaving early the next morning, my days were filled with utterly nothing. My world had been turned upside down. Each morning I awoke with the same desire on my mind, Willow to return to her normal self. The person who I played with, relied on, and spent all my time with. Since Willow tended to forget to feed me dinner each night, I trained myself to savor my breakfast throughout the day. It felt as if with each night that came Willow’s return time grew later and later. The slam of our bedroom door every night when Willow closed it was going to be the death of me. On occasion Willow would either forget to shut her door or would let me in, those moments were unlike any others.
After much thought about what could be occurring, the one conclusion I came to was that Willow had found someone better than me. She had found someone not only better, but was wearing herself down by working and spending time with them. That was why she was so anxious all the time and always in an unhappy mood. All her hair was cut off because her new friend thought she looked better that way. She was never happy at home because when she was with me, she wasn’t with her new friend. It all began to make sense now. Willow had found someone to replace me.
All this thinking depressed me. Maybe I wasn’t right, hopefully, I wasn’t right. Then again, Willow wasn’t the type of person to let one new friend change her entire life. Maybe it wasn’t a friend she made, maybe it was an enemy. That was it! Something was ruining her life and all I ever did was think about the effect it had on me. The only person I knew that was not a very cheery person was the old man who worked in the Heaven Shop. But, it didn’t seem like they were enemies because every time we see him I hear Willow say something along the lines of, “Hi, how are you feeling today? Looks like you are on the road to recovery! Keep it up! I don’t know if I will be able to remain as strong as you have been. I’ll see you later.” He would always respond with, “Hey, what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger right.”
Hold on a second. How are you feeling, road to recovery, strong. This sounds like something you would say to someone who was sick. But, I’ll see you later? Was Willow sick also? Oh no. Maybe my assumption was wrong, but everything made total sense now. Willow was very sick and she spent all her time trying to get better. She was losing weight, her hair, and her amazing personality all to this illness.
“Hey Max. Long day today. I’m going to head to bed.” My tail wagged as I rubbed my body up against her legs.
She knelt down and slowly patted my back. Willow followed me as I walked to our bedroom. Right after I hopped on the bed, Willow climbed into her spot. We laid there together. I nuzzled my head up next to hers and licked her face. We fell asleep, like old times, together on our bed. There was a smile upon Willow’s face as she dozed off. This was the first time in a very long time the slightest bit of old Willow made somewhat of a return.
Every night my job was to entertain Willow in some way. Whether it was by running around wild and letting her watch me or snuggling up to her. Sometimes when we slept, it was very uncomfortable, but it was worth it to see a slight smile on her face. Each night, the amount of sleep I got decreased because either I was thinking about Willow and the ways I could help her, or I was in unbearable positions and could not get comfortable. But, I would do anything to make Willow happy.
Instead of waking up and being mute the entire morning as per usual, she began to wake up and exclaim, “Good morning buddy!” I was in a debate with myself now. It had become unclear to me which was my favorite part of the day. My best friend returning home, or the moment she woke up and reminded me the reason we were best friends.
So much of my time was spent worrying about Willow, the fact that I had lost a ton of weight had gone completely unnoticed. My sleep schedule was completely ruined, and everyday I was stuck inside. Our apartment became very small and irritating. Being trapped inside those four walls everyday took it’s toll on me. Eventually, I couldn’t stand it any longer. I knew Willow needed me and that was the only thing that kept me going. The constant “tick-tock” of the clock on the wall irritated me. The bed that once had just enough space, was too small. The old man yelling in the heaven shop made my head pound. People watching through the windows encouraged my jealousy. Why wasn't I outside walking with Willow holding on to the end of my leash? One bedroom was not enough room for a dog of my size. In fact, no dog should have to live in these circumstances at all. But, I did it for Willow. Anything for Willow.
Each day when when the door creaked and Willow opened it I tried to the best of my ability to entertain her. I did not have the energy to allow her to watch me run around like a maniac anymore. In fact, the leap up to our bed was becoming impossible. It felt like it was higher than it had been in the past. Everything I did for Willow completely wore me out, but, the rewards of my hard work were evident. Piece by piece hair grew atop her head. Her bones looked stronger. Her smile returned and was upon her face more often. Her mood was lifted. The old Willow was just about back. But, the old Max was gone. I was no longer a young energetic dog anymore. The similarities between the old man from downstairs and me grew. We were both brittle and worn out. I tried to not let it bother me though. Every time my depression grew, I looked at Willow and realized she was the reason I did all of this. That made me happy. Very happy.
We went to sleep as we normally did, but I felt differently that night. More worn out, immobile, and as if I had a fever. Falling asleep was not easy. I tossed and turned for hours on end, surprised Willow didn’t kick me off the bed for interrupting her sleep.
I finally dozed off, only to find myself wake right back up again. My eyes were squinted due to the pain I was in. My chest was pounding. I tried to ignore it, but the air suddenly became very thick. Just like I do on my morning walks, I was panting. Willow gradually arose next to me. She tried to calm me down, but there was nothing she could do. I panted trying to take in as much oxygen as I could, but nothing was working. This scared both me and Willow. Was I going to die?
Willow began to cry. “Max, come on buddy. You’re okay. Please…” she whimpered a long and sorrowful cry. She was sobbing. Tears drowned her face. I was fighting to breathe. I knew what this was. It was the end.
I slowly opened my eyes, frightened by the fact that I was unsure if I was with Willow or in doggy heaven. A cloudy voice of what sounded like a young woman filled my ears. “Now, Max is going to be very out of it. He was on very strong anesthesia from when we performed the surgery.”
Surgery? What was going on? My eyes opened fully to a lady in a long white coat standing over me. The aroma I had smelt on Willow all those nights was surrounding me. She seemed to be inspecting my body. The room was filled with tools and equipment. In the center, there was a table, which was where I layed. Surrounding me were brown cabinets. Weird wires connecting to tools masked the imitation marble countertops and crowded the room. There was a constant buzz of activity occurring at the neighboring rooms. Young men and women with purple gowns and pants chatted amongst themselves. This was familiar. Although it took me a while to realize it, I was at the vet.
The moment Willow caught glimpse of my open eyes she exclaimed, “Max!” as she embraced me. She squeezed me so tight. It felt amazing to be back in her arms, where I belonged. I had forgotten what this had felt like. All of those months where Willow was down in the dumps were no longer in the picture. This hug was not an everyday return from work greeting. It was different. It felt different. Maybe because I knew Willow was her normal self again. Maybe because I knew we were both okay. Or maybe it was just that I had undergone surgery and could barely feel a thing. The safety of being in her arms comforted me. Seconds passed, eventually minutes and Willow wouldn’t let go. I didn't want her to let go, not ever again.
Walking back into our apartment the next day was one of the best feelings ever. The walls seemed younger and further apart than usual. The door to our bedroom was always open. My spot on our bed felt welcoming. Life felt better. Willow and I had been through miserable times together, but our bond was built to be more unbreakable because of our experiences. We both learned that as the old man from The Heaven Shop downstairs once said, what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.
Stronger(Tara O'Neill)
The plush queen size bed in our room consisted of just the perfect amount of space for us. The bed was undone because, as usual, Willow was running late to work. Underneath the bed was where I stored all my owner’s socks. I think it made her mad when she didn’t have a matching pair in her drawer, but it was worth it because when she tore apart her room to look for them, I couldn’t stop laughing. The windows looked out onto the street and allowed me the perfect view to people watch. I always found myself jealous of the people walking into the Heaven Shop. Constantly, the voice of the old man yelling, “next in line!” made its way up to our apartment. My dream was to break into the Heaven Shop and feast myself on the glory within, but unfortunately, it didn’t happen.
Willow’s chair, a tall one with a cushion on top, could be found at the end of the island in the kitchen. My spot was located on the floor right next to it. Willow bought me a placemat with two matching bowls. One for water and one for food. We always ate together. No matter how hungry I was or how late Willow was, I never ate without her. Partly because I enjoyed company and also because my food was not stored in a place that was accessible for me. My favorite part of everyday was the moment when Willow walked through the door. It made me feel so special because she always greeted me with a huge kiss on the top of my head and a big hug. Her arms wrapped around me, holding on so tightly, gave me the feeling that she may never let go. There was never a time where I didn’t feel loved. Willow became so good at making me happy. She gave me so much attention, and even sometimes a bone! I guess I can blame that for part of the reason why I am a little out of shape.
One Wednesday, I especially couldn’t wait for Willow to come home because I was feeling hungrier than usual. Right in front of the wood front door was where I laid longing for Willow’s return. Time passed by as I waited and waited. It felt like I had been sitting in front of that door for hours. The fine lines and crevices of that door were imprinted in my mind like the back of my paw by the end of the night. Where was Willow? Did something happen to her? Worry grew to such a great extent within me that when she eventually walked through the door, I didn’t even realize. “I’m sorry little guy, I took longer than I expected. I am really tired tonight buddy,” she said as she lightly patted my head and very slowly she placed her belongings on the table as she lingered to our bedroom.
What? She was joking right. No kiss on the top of my head, no playtime, and most important, no dinner? She didn’t look happy to see me like she usually does. The moment Willow stepped foot through the door, it was easy to sense that there was something on her mind. She seemed very worn out from something. Her eyes were red and puffy. A faint aroma of something that reminded me of the vet was in the air. Why would Willow be at the vet? As I walked to our bedroom, white fliers flew off from on top of her coat to the floor due to the draft that constantly passed through our apartment. If only I could read. Instead, without thinking, I did what all hungry dogs do. I chewed on the papers. Hopefully, they weren’t important. After, I found myself even more hungry than when I began, but there was nothing I could do.
The door to our bedroom was closed. I whimpered in hopes that Willow would open the door, but after minutes of constant begging, the door remained shut. A dim sound came from inside the bedroom, it sounded like Willow was crying.
The beeping of the alarm in our bedroom made its way to the hallway, where I slept that night, and woke me up. Everything seemed pretty normal so I went about my daily routines. Stretch, cuddle with Willow, and then eat breakfast. It felt so good to finally eat something of substance. Those papers hadn’t really done me any justice. “Max. Time for your walk,” Willow said in a low toned voice.
She leashed me up which took longer than usual because her hands were trembling and very fidgety. It was evident that there was something bothering Willow. She just wasn’t her normal self. She was constantly moping around with her head down, looking weak. At some points, I wondered if she would ever be happy and energetic again. This went on for days. The days turned into weeks. Then, one afternoon Willow came home, and her hair was gone. I jogged my mind for the things I knew about losing hair. As to be expected, there was nothing stored in there relating to hair loss or anything of the sort. Her body looked brittle, as if one jump up on her lap would break her. There was no explanation I could find as to what was going on. Why would Willow want to cut off all of her hair?
Loneliness grew upon me. With Willow only coming home very late each night, not interacting with me, and then leaving early the next morning, my days were filled with utterly nothing. My world had been turned upside down. Each morning I awoke with the same desire on my mind, Willow to return to her normal self. The person who I played with, relied on, and spent all my time with. Since Willow tended to forget to feed me dinner each night, I trained myself to savor my breakfast throughout the day. It felt as if with each night that came Willow’s return time grew later and later. The slam of our bedroom door every night when Willow closed it was going to be the death of me. On occasion Willow would either forget to shut her door or would let me in, those moments were unlike any others.
After much thought about what could be occurring, the one conclusion I came to was that Willow had found someone better than me. She had found someone not only better, but was wearing herself down by working and spending time with them. That was why she was so anxious all the time and always in an unhappy mood. All her hair was cut off because her new friend thought she looked better that way. She was never happy at home because when she was with me, she wasn’t with her new friend. It all began to make sense now. Willow had found someone to replace me.
All this thinking depressed me. Maybe I wasn’t right, hopefully, I wasn’t right. Then again, Willow wasn’t the type of person to let one new friend change her entire life. Maybe it wasn’t a friend she made, maybe it was an enemy. That was it! Something was ruining her life and all I ever did was think about the effect it had on me. The only person I knew that was not a very cheery person was the old man who worked in the Heaven Shop. But, it didn’t seem like they were enemies because every time we see him I hear Willow say something along the lines of, “Hi, how are you feeling today? Looks like you are on the road to recovery! Keep it up! I don’t know if I will be able to remain as strong as you have been. I’ll see you later.” He would always respond with, “Hey, what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger right.”
Hold on a second. How are you feeling, road to recovery, strong. This sounds like something you would say to someone who was sick. But, I’ll see you later? Was Willow sick also? Oh no. Maybe my assumption was wrong, but everything made total sense now. Willow was very sick and she spent all her time trying to get better. She was losing weight, her hair, and her amazing personality all to this illness.
“Hey Max. Long day today. I’m going to head to bed.” My tail wagged as I rubbed my body up against her legs.
She knelt down and slowly patted my back. Willow followed me as I walked to our bedroom. Right after I hopped on the bed, Willow climbed into her spot. We laid there together. I nuzzled my head up next to hers and licked her face. We fell asleep, like old times, together on our bed. There was a smile upon Willow’s face as she dozed off. This was the first time in a very long time the slightest bit of old Willow made somewhat of a return.
Every night my job was to entertain Willow in some way. Whether it was by running around wild and letting her watch me or snuggling up to her. Sometimes when we slept, it was very uncomfortable, but it was worth it to see a slight smile on her face. Each night, the amount of sleep I got decreased because either I was thinking about Willow and the ways I could help her, or I was in unbearable positions and could not get comfortable. But, I would do anything to make Willow happy.
Instead of waking up and being mute the entire morning as per usual, she began to wake up and exclaim, “Good morning buddy!” I was in a debate with myself now. It had become unclear to me which was my favorite part of the day. My best friend returning home, or the moment she woke up and reminded me the reason we were best friends.
So much of my time was spent worrying about Willow, the fact that I had lost a ton of weight had gone completely unnoticed. My sleep schedule was completely ruined, and everyday I was stuck inside. Our apartment became very small and irritating. Being trapped inside those four walls everyday took it’s toll on me. Eventually, I couldn’t stand it any longer. I knew Willow needed me and that was the only thing that kept me going. The constant “tick-tock” of the clock on the wall irritated me. The bed that once had just enough space, was too small. The old man yelling in the heaven shop made my head pound. People watching through the windows encouraged my jealousy. Why wasn't I outside walking with Willow holding on to the end of my leash? One bedroom was not enough room for a dog of my size. In fact, no dog should have to live in these circumstances at all. But, I did it for Willow. Anything for Willow.
Each day when when the door creaked and Willow opened it I tried to the best of my ability to entertain her. I did not have the energy to allow her to watch me run around like a maniac anymore. In fact, the leap up to our bed was becoming impossible. It felt like it was higher than it had been in the past. Everything I did for Willow completely wore me out, but, the rewards of my hard work were evident. Piece by piece hair grew atop her head. Her bones looked stronger. Her smile returned and was upon her face more often. Her mood was lifted. The old Willow was just about back. But, the old Max was gone. I was no longer a young energetic dog anymore. The similarities between the old man from downstairs and me grew. We were both brittle and worn out. I tried to not let it bother me though. Every time my depression grew, I looked at Willow and realized she was the reason I did all of this. That made me happy. Very happy.
We went to sleep as we normally did, but I felt differently that night. More worn out, immobile, and as if I had a fever. Falling asleep was not easy. I tossed and turned for hours on end, surprised Willow didn’t kick me off the bed for interrupting her sleep.
I finally dozed off, only to find myself wake right back up again. My eyes were squinted due to the pain I was in. My chest was pounding. I tried to ignore it, but the air suddenly became very thick. Just like I do on my morning walks, I was panting. Willow gradually arose next to me. She tried to calm me down, but there was nothing she could do. I panted trying to take in as much oxygen as I could, but nothing was working. This scared both me and Willow. Was I going to die?
Willow began to cry. “Max, come on buddy. You’re okay. Please…” she whimpered a long and sorrowful cry. She was sobbing. Tears drowned her face. I was fighting to breathe. I knew what this was. It was the end.
I slowly opened my eyes, frightened by the fact that I was unsure if I was with Willow or in doggy heaven. A cloudy voice of what sounded like a young woman filled my ears. “Now, Max is going to be very out of it. He was on very strong anesthesia from when we performed the surgery.”
Surgery? What was going on? My eyes opened fully to a lady in a long white coat standing over me. The aroma I had smelt on Willow all those nights was surrounding me. She seemed to be inspecting my body. The room was filled with tools and equipment. In the center, there was a table, which was where I layed. Surrounding me were brown cabinets. Weird wires connecting to tools masked the imitation marble countertops and crowded the room. There was a constant buzz of activity occurring at the neighboring rooms. Young men and women with purple gowns and pants chatted amongst themselves. This was familiar. Although it took me a while to realize it, I was at the vet.
The moment Willow caught glimpse of my open eyes she exclaimed, “Max!” as she embraced me. She squeezed me so tight. It felt amazing to be back in her arms, where I belonged. I had forgotten what this had felt like. All of those months where Willow was down in the dumps were no longer in the picture. This hug was not an everyday return from work greeting. It was different. It felt different. Maybe because I knew Willow was her normal self again. Maybe because I knew we were both okay. Or maybe it was just that I had undergone surgery and could barely feel a thing. The safety of being in her arms comforted me. Seconds passed, eventually minutes and Willow wouldn’t let go. I didn't want her to let go, not ever again.
Walking back into our apartment the next day was one of the best feelings ever. The walls seemed younger and further apart than usual. The door to our bedroom was always open. My spot on our bed felt welcoming. Life felt better. Willow and I had been through miserable times together, but our bond was built to be more unbreakable because of our experiences. We both learned that as the old man from The Heaven Shop downstairs once said, what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.
- Share this story on
- 5
COMMENTS (0)