The Anguish Escape

The short story is about an ageing dog speculating death

 

Getting old is a phase in life that every creature never manages to escape. In fact, attaining experiences in our ages increasing by a figure per year can be considered as a blessing or a curse, depending on one’s perception. Either way, humans and animals are engulfed by it, as it exist to our birth cycle. The life of man perishes, but nature is boundless and moves on.

Showing signs of senility, his once boisterous and peppy energy vanished. Roger, the farm dog lived a simple from his puppy hood. As he was becoming old, the repetition of his daily proclivity was relaxing his body on the front porch beside his master’s recliner. Food was a delicacy that gives him the strength to carry on. The glowing fur that once embellished her light spirited body was replaced by grey ones which kept shedding on regular intervals. In spite of everything, his main joy lies in celebration life to the fullest.

He came to the farm since he was a 3 month old puppy. Being a true dictator, he participated in being an excellent watchdog. Even the cunning foxes and wild cats always made an attempt to escape in preying the life stock, as his presence was a sinister to their luck. He was a good luck to his master. When they go wander off for hunting, his keen sense of smell was a reward for his master that they never return with an empty hand.

Being fully familiar with the farm, he would saunter proudly with a tail hoisted upright by his master’s side. No wonder the other farm animals as ‘The Great Dictator’ and he provides security and protection. With his presence, they felt ravished.

When the folks from the city, they would bring him treats and he would steadfastly stand guard over the children. They both cherished the companionship provided to each other. He would never allow any harm to come in their way. Mostly, he was regarded as the highest prized possession by his master and loved him as a son.

Gone were the glory and dynamic days with the wind. He never regretted being a good dog. 

 

Dawn breaks with the sun pouring out its rays to nature. The birds were celebrating the sanctified by singing in their own choirs. Cool breezes were blowing through the hustle of the trees. The aura was a little different to Roger. Slowly, he opened the front door. Death was slowly lurking at his back but remained hidden. He sensed that his current stature was his final moment. 

Fully aware that the unseen force was unstoppable to his sharp sense, he thinks about his beloved master, who was the main centre of his universe, the sufferings of a life to carry on without him. He would be completely grief stricken with a life without him, filling all the voids and emptiness of his life. Roger could not bear the thought of his master in an anguish state of mind and made a final decision.

In a sluggish process, he walked inside the barn. The stacked hays and anything present inside paid no heed of his presence. With a wise prudence, he pondered and vivid scenes of his memories came back in an instant. He longed to take a final rest and lied down peacefully. 

Death laid her cold hand on his head, and his body became cold and lifeless. Forever, he closed his eyes, leaving this miserable world to wait for his master at the other side.    

      

                                 

Author's Note

Throw some light on how you find the content. Your speculation is highly appreciated

Reviews

[Peter Rogerson]

You have a few instances when you might be using the wrong word (in the first line you probably mean manages rather than ceases, it's the sort of thing we all do from time to time. I found it very sad, but then I'm in my 70s and probably won't manage to escape the inevitable!

[C. Fela]

Noted. Thanks for the feedback