Dog Days

He remembered his name all too well. It haunted him. Most times he felt like crying. He kept blaming himself over and over for what he had done to him.
Thoughts of what had become of him ravaged his mind. Was he forgotten by him, or was he held in deep hate within the bowels of his thoughts for what he had done?

He remembered having to defend his position and honour to his landlord about having him.
“ I don’t want him here, it’s been said time and time again that he is not accepted here!” Were the words he remembered his landlord telling him.
“ But he doesn’t live here, and I don’t have any influence on him coming around here, and when I do see him, I just ignore the fact that he’s here.” His answer wasn’t believed by his landlord.
His landlord had a grotesque face and made a funny smirk showing him that his words weren’t believed. He didn’t care about whether he was believed or not, he just wanted to return to his flat, and not see his fucked up faced landlord.

The day it happened, and how it happened repeated itself in his head. It was one of deceit and betrayal.
Would he ever be forgiven? Should he be forgiven? He so wanted redemption, but unfortunately, he is punished to be haunted by his misdeeds until the end of his days. He believed that was just punishment for what he had done.
He remembered bathing and feeding him that fateful day. He then took him for a drive all the while barely giving thought to what he was about to do. Tying up loose ends, he thought to himself.

“ Would he be well cared for?” He remembered asking the friendly lady at the counter.
“ He will.” She replied with a smile, “The possibility of him getting adopted isn’t clear, but he will be kept clean, fed well, and looked after.” She added
There wasn’t much time, he barely gave thought to what was said, as he was in a hurry to get on with his life.

The offer sounded good.
“ I have some extra food left over for him, so I bought that too.” He said to her trying to sound like he really cared for him.
“ That’s good, we’ll just add it with the others. Do you want to see him one last time before you leave?”
“ Yeah, why not, I’d like to say my goodbyes.” He answered without any thought at all.
“ Hey,” he said while kneeling down in front of him, “ you’ll be well taken care of here, it’ll be hard at first, but you’ll be fine.”
While he listened, his eyes looked all obedient, yet somewhat silently begging him to not leave him there. All this was ignored.
Opening the door to his kennel, he started wincing and tried to run, but he was gripped firmly and shoved inside.
His wincing moans struck him hard, but he had no choice. What else could he do?

Eight years, seven months and one week have now passed. Still, he is haunted by his decision.
The constant thought about what came of him pains his thoughts and head.
Is he even alive? He didn’t know how old he was when he found him by the side of the road, and though he thought logical to the fact that he had a life cycle, he can’t help but wonder what finally came of him.

The possibility that he could be dead now isn’t far-fetched a thought, but if he died with the memory of what was done to him, made his stomach cringe.
He should have left well alone, he should’ve walked passed him on the side of the road that fateful day.
Never should’ve brought him home, bathed him, fed him, kept him in his flat.

“ You can’t bring in stray animals into your flat Jamie !” His mother scolded over the phone.
Her words ringing like a siren in his head. His guilt burning in his head.
He feels like he should cry, but what for? He may already be dead. How does he get past this?

If there’s anything he could’ve done to change what he did, he certainly would. He’s young and has his life ahead of him.
He knows he’ll never find out what became of him. He would never know if he kept the memory of his betrayal in thought until the day he died.

He knows that the guilt he’s carrying with him about what he did will follow him until the end of his days, and that was just punishment.