A reflection of a boy's best friend |
Sport was a good dog, full of life, as well as stuffing. Black with white muzzle, paws and chest, Sport was a stuffed toy dog that my Dad had brought home one day when I was about 3 or 4 years old. He had rescued him, I found out later, from the counter of a convenience store, where Sport lived days inside a plastic bag. I pictured him gazing longingly at the customers who would pass him by, hoping that one would bring him home. My Dad was the one to do so. Sport and I did everything together, and wherever I went, I brought him to share my adventures, usually with my arm around him in a sort of headlock, but Sport never seemed to mind. He never barked, never went potty on the rug, and was always willing to play. He never was one to eat much, although I did try to give him my lima beans on occasion. He never ate them. I wasn't mad, I didn't want them either. Sport spent his life in the company of those who loved him dearly. He was my best friend, and my trusted ally against trouble. Sport took his share of rough goings, and there were many times when Mom had to sew him back together, with me teary eyed, and heartbroken. Over the years, he'd lost stuffing, his shiny nose, and his fur was matted and brittle with age. He'd lost his leg in a fight with another dog, who thought it was wise to take it with him. I tried to comfort him, and take care of him the best I could, and he never complained, or cried. Many years had passed, and the boy became a man, finished school, and persued his own life. A wife, a house, and a child later, I was going through the attic for things to throw away to make room for new things to store. I opened the blue trunk with the broken lock to look down into the eyes of my best friend. Sport had been waiting for me the whole time. I am not ashamed to say that the tears of a little boy welled up in the eyes of the man he'd become, and I sat for a long time in the attic that day, spending time getting reaquainted with Sport, my three legged dog, and the best friend a boy could have had. |