Thursday, September 5, 2013

Bad Day by Chi-Ping

The second Sunday in July began like any other; mom looked on the floor in the spare room to see if I had an accident, as we walked to the door. Blondie and I made our rounds inspecting the neighborhood. Lola, Lucky and Robert Redford stayed close to the house waiting to be fed. Blondie and I would be back before the third bowl hit the floor.
Some time later, we were sniffing around up the hill, when we heard mom scream and yell. Before we could get home she came flying, I mean going fast for her down the hill hollering, “Ayuda me!” My ears went back, it scared me. I jumped at her leg as she hurried back to our house. What was happening; I wanted to know. The door slammed in my face, when I tried to walk in with her. What’s wrong with her?
“Kirt,Kirt!,” mom cried, then we ran to the patio outside the bedroom windows. I couldn't hear dad. His scent changed, we knew he was in trouble. Lucky and Red hid in the bushes nearby with wide eyes peering out. Blondie, Lola and I went into guard mode.
A man in a uniform stayed in his car in front of the house. We bounced and barked surrounding the car. “No,” mom commanded in a tone that set us back on our tails. “Hurry, hurry!” she repeated to the man over and over again. Soon other people arrived. Lola and the puppies barked, defending the door. Lucky’s hackles were up like the little boy was seriously defending his home. Lola barked, but I could tell she wasn't too sure about what she was doing. Mom told us, “NO,” before and that was good enough for me and Blondie; we know the woman. What was wrong with dad? His scent lacked vital force.
Mom yelled in Spanish and in English at people in uniforms. We stood ready to protect, but when mom started crying we didn’t know which way to go. We wanted to get in the house to comfort her. Mom and dad’s friends, the dog lover ladies, Alma and Adri arrived. Mom screamed and cried while telling them that the uniformed people wouldn’t help dad.
People from the neighborhood filled the yard and began coming into the house. Blondie, Lucky and I streaked in with some. A uniformed man waived us away from the bedroom with dad, mom, friends and uniformed people. Blondie and I know death when we smell it. Lucky ran outside to hide under the car. The only other death he ever smelled was his sister a couple of weeks ago.
It can’t be dad; he’s the greatest dad in the world. His scent was flat. Mom sobbed, wailing so hard I waited for her to howl, so I could howl with her. The uniforms retreated to the porch for a smoke. Blondie tiptoed into the bedroom, where dad sat slumped over in his wheelchair, ash grey. I stood there looking up at him, when my turn came. No more scratches behind the ears from those hands. No more sweet words from his lips. My tail dropped to the lowest, since the day I was dumped here.  I touched my nose to his leg to fill it with his scent one last time.
Farewell, friend to all, father of the furry kidz and all round great guy,
Clure “Kirt” Carr, July 14, 2013 RIP
We love you,
Chi-Ping, Blondie, Smoki, Lucky, Robert Redford, Lola

And “Mom”

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