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A slap. A kick. A punch.
The pain and rage, the fear and love. Love that was never supposed to die out from my soul. But humans... they made the impossible possible. I thought that all humans were sweet and gentle, like Jack and Melissa, the two young couple who had first adopted me. And then they gave me up. They gave me up to a drunken man.
I spent four months with Aero, and developed a new name in his presence. No longer was I "Nikita". I was "god damnit" or "sh*t". I wasn't sure if those words were nice, because Jack and Melissa only said them when they were mad or hurt. But Aero was always mad. Maybe he had an excuse.
But Aero would come home after hours of leaving me inside, my bladder stinging from not being let out for hours, with a bottle in his hand. He would usually drop it on the floor, and shards of glass would shatter all over the place. I ended up trying to examine it once, and Aero kicked the shards into my face.
I am blind in one eye.
Then Aero fell one day, and he wouldn't wake up. He had a bottle in his hand, and was foul-smelling and pale. I was taken away from him, and put up for adoption. It felt good to be away from Aero, but I did want to see him again. He had been my human. I was devoted to protect my human.
Then I went to live with Alicia. Alicia was a sad old woman, she never walked around outside or threw a ball to me. I developed a more gentle persona after living with he, and it was shocking that I had been so dociled in eight months.
Then, Alicia fell asleep and never woke up, too.
I had lost four people.
Then the thought struck me- was it my fault? Was I a bad dog?
My question was answered when I found myself in an adoption center again.
Apparently I had been a bad dog. And if somebody was going to adopt me again, they would just give me up and fall asleep like Alicia and Aero. So I didn't want to be adopted by anyone anymore. I was scared, I was angry. At myself, and at humans. They had tattered me.
People need to stop falling asleep.
So now, I yawned anxiously in my small pen, staring blankly through the constricting fence at the other dogs who bayed and whined, who looked for someone to take them home. My head throbbed from all of the noise and my jaw was sore from being clamped shut. I refused to call out or whimper. I didn't want to go to another home, to see my friend fall asleep. I didn't want to be rejected or slapped by an Aero man, or ignored by an Alicia. Hell- I didn't even want a Jack or Melissa. Because I didn't want to get hurt again. I was done. So muchnhad happened in only eleven months. My whole life. I was eleven months old.
I was the "undesirable" age for a dog to be adopted in. I was "already ill-tempered" and "unstable". As the volunteers said. Yeah, I guess I had gotten mean. I had snapped at a few hands here, I'd cowered in fear, but it was to protect myself. To keep me from going to another home.
I turned so my flank was pressed against the wall of the pen and heaved out a sigh.
Another day in the adoption center, hiding from people, going over in my mind the pain that humans had caused me, and watching the dogs that did have luck outside of the building. I watched them stick their heads out of their cars (front seat, too). I watched them plod alongside a human. I watched and wished for things I would never get.
Welcome to my life.
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Just jump in with an image and a name! I don't quite have a whole plot, but it's about a bond between human and dog.
so... yeah.
kinda unique, huh?
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