Wednesday, June 2, 2010

Runaway Stray


It's late in the night. A yellow glow of halogens envelopes the dark roads in a mocking golden sheen. He sits by the roadside. Alone. It's a place he's known too well all his life. Not the roadside, the other place.

It confuses him still of why it feels this way. He still dosent understand how he feels. His tail still wags in happiness, he still rolls over when pet, he still struts on all four feet - but how does he explain himself what the emptiness is that he feels. The emptiness that he himself traded for, to see her happy. Wasn't the happiness supposed to fill in that emptiness? Or was that just something he had hoped for to give him the courage to do what he did?

He had run away from the one home he had found in a long long time. And run, run and run he did till his paws hurt. His white fur was white no more, all dusty and greased, he was hardly the pet he'd come to be. He was again the stray he always had been. But this time atleast it didn't hurt so much. Coz he knew it would help her stay happy. Would she cry? Of course she would. But he believes her tears would heal in a few days and then she'll be happy forver and after. She'll find the happiness she deserves. And a pet who can be more appropriate for her home. And one that wouldn't make as many troubles as him. Or bark as much. Or behave like a street dog - a mongrel - an untamed, waywardly mannered cur like him. Or that is atleast what he believed. He had to.

He still quitely watches her sometimes, from a distance. Knowing that she won't recognize him anymore. He's torn away the collar, but buried it in a place where only he knows where. He still digs it up sometimes - he can smell her on it. And he keeps it close. He watches her smile now and then, without wagging his tail. not to give away the happiness he still feels just to watch her smile. It's what makes the emptiness he still feels a little more bearable. It's what gives him the strength to still keep running on those throbbing paws of his.
Running away from his happiness, and towards her happily ever after.

As he sits in the far away place he has come to know so well. He's still fighting a war with all that he feels. But he dosen't care what the world thinks of him. They may call him a stray all they want. But he knows he's diferent. He's a runaway stray.

2 comments:

  1. I love dogs ... especially the ones who look into your eyes and talk .. big brown eyes .... strays are my favorites I have had 14 at one point now i just have one the longest my dog lived was for 15 long years and gave us unconditional love .. my heart goes out to all abandoned dogs i wish they find someone who can love them back unconditionally :) this one bought a tear to my eye .. again a worth read !!!

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