Wednesday, December 28, 2011

KekahJ Week 84: The Night that Changed My Life


Picture 1

Picture 2

KekahJ's Choice: Picture 1

The Night that Changed My Life

I shiver and pull my coat around me a little tighter as the wind rips though the branches above me, making their dry leaves shudder. Not wanting to be out in the cold any longer than necessary, I fish my keys out of my pocket, readying the right key to fit in the lock. Just as I’m wiggling the key into the lock, I hear another sound. It’s faint, but distinct. It’s a whine.

I stop and turn, trying to determine where the sound is coming from. For a moment, I see nothing, and then a small movement catches my eye.

“Oh,” I say to myself in shock when I see it. It’s the scrawniest most pathetic thing I’ve ever seen. It’s fur is matted and wet, and I can tell that underneath it’s pathetic coat it’s not much more than skin and bones. It has the overgrown paws of a puppy with a lot of growth still ahead of it. But all of these things, the thing that sticks with me the most is its eyes. It has big, beautiful blue eyes.

“What are you doing here?” I ask the poor creature. In answer, it shivers and takes a step toward me. I’m not, nor have I ever been, a dog person, but there’s something about this poor thing, especially its piercing eyes, that has me unable to turn away. Besides, it’s freezing out here. The thing will surely be dead by morning if I don’t let it inside.

“Well, come on then,” I tell it, sighing as I motion towards the open door. She looks up at me, and I swear her blue eyes are grateful as she slinks through the door into my warm apartment.

Thirty minutes later, I’ve determined it’s a she. I’ve got a fire going and she’s curled up in front of it on one of my best blankets after lapping down two bowls of milk and eating all of my left over chicken. She looked like she would have eaten more, but I wasn’t sure if she would get sick after having gone so long without food.

I settle down on the couch with a book, but after a few minute she begins whimpering in her sleep, and I can’t help myself. I go over and curl up next to her on the blanket, wrapping my arms around her and running my fingers around her still damp fur. I know then that I’m in trouble. Apparently I’m now a dog owner.