Lil. Ms. Poochie

 

It was a gloomy day with dark clouds, a blistering wind and an even darker mood. I had refused every offer of warmth and obstinately set out in quest of my dog, little Ms. Poochie. Lil Ms. had never stayed out this long and I was beginning to worry. In spite of the cold and cough that wracked my tiny frame, I was determined to find her. You see, my lil Ms. had once saved me and now it was my turn to save her.

I was a lonely child, sad and bitter and angry with the world. I was the one to always get into trouble and always the one to bring home bad news. My tanta says I'm the harbinger of evil. Even at birth, I killed my own mother. How evil could I get?

Thus branded, I was careful to not do anything to draw attention to myself; I kept to myself and endeavoured to always be on my best behaviour but trouble always seemed to follow me around confirming tanta's opinion of me. I was desolate and devised several means to write off my life but I was too cowardly to follow through. And then one day, lil Ms. hobbled into my life. I took to her instantly. 

Like me, she had been battered and looked half starved. Her ear was torn and bleeding, I presumed she had been involved in a dog fight. You see, dogs like humans share a lot in common even though I sometimes think they're smarter, the big dogs pick on the smaller and weaker dogs. Now I know why they call it a dog-eat-dog world, that statement had always puzzled me.

Lil Ms. was my saviour in many ways, I learnt to know what it meant to be loved and to love, I learnt to laugh and to play (lil Ms. says I ought to play all day, that it's my right). Above all, I learnt to forgive.

One day, my tanta had beaten me for no good reason and banished me from her presence. I was forbidden to cry before her and so poured it all on poor lil Ms. I kicked at her and bawled out my eyes, I could tell that she was hurt with the way she looked at me just as she hobbled off.

I was sorry to see her go but was too mad to care. After I had calmed down, I went looking for her in all her favourite places; at the pond where she liked to bark at the ducks, at the flower bed where she pretended to be a pretty flower and at the churchyard where she liked to lie and gaze up at the sky, but she wasn't there.

Now I was worried, it would rain soon and I had yet to find lil Ms. My lil Ms. never liked rainstorms, they drove her crazy. I remember her restless pacing, how she used to whimper and howl, I must find her before the storm broke. I'm sorry lil Ms. Please come back.

Now I'm crying, the tears mingling with the rain. I was sorry I'd shouted at her and kicked her. I was sorry I had thrown stones at her. I was sorry I had treated her as my tanta had treated me. I was sorry for it all. I was even more sorry cos she didn't deserve it, she who had loved me with dog-like devotion, I'm sorry lil Ms.

*In loving memory of Cornell.

Photo Credits: Pentaxuser, Flickr.