Riley

Riley’s soft fur slipped through my fingers. I looked over at the old dog sitting in the passenger seat of my pickup. His head all bandaged and wrapped with gauze. Pus and blood had seeped through my latest dressing, but once again the infected wound matted the carefully placed coverings into a rotten egg smelling mess. Those soft, kind eyes bore upon me.

I turned on to Dishman road and watched as a flock of Canadian geese flapped overhead. Their honks filled the warm spring air. The few puffy white clouds drifting by stirred within me a calm, as I felt the wind blow in my face.

Riley placed his paws upon the passenger window and let the breeze riffle through his black hair. His tongue, uncontrolled, flipped about and an occasional drop of saliva ticked on the plastic arm cover.

I slowed down the truck and let him enjoy the unusual sensation. He rarely got to ride with me, and I liked seeing him happy. We’d had him since birth and he followed me everywhere – to the barn, to the shed, down the lane, across the creek, into the fields. A constant companion, whenever you spotted me Riley was sure to be on my heels.

I heard the crunch of gravel as my tires hit the lane. The truck eased past the rough-hewn fence and I heard the brakes squeak to a stop. I grabbed the gear shifter and pushed it into park while cutting the engine.

I peered up at the sign and my eyes filled with tears as I clicked the leash on.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Bayer. Right this way. I see the infection has run its course. I'm so sorry. Place him on the table.”

I lifted Riley up and watched as the vet prepared the shot. My eyes streamed with tears. Riley's pain and suffering for the last couple of months were about to end. That fact didn't calm me any. My head had to trump my heart on this one. I watched as Riley went to sleep.

I’ll always remember Riley, and that last ride.


299 Words
Flash Story Free Write: Not for a contest