(no subject)
My friend's dog just died. he told me about it while we were drinking in the Duke of York. He didn't seem upset at all.
He told me about elderly people, how they are doing just fine, at say the age of seventy-five, walking fine, talking coherently, in good shape and all that. Then how in say one year it all goes, in a space of a few months they have lost it and are weak and emaciated. He said thats how it was with his dog.
He was talking to me about it yet didn't seem upset, just looking away distantly with a strange smile on his face. He said he used to walk his dog most nights, and that it always pulled on the leash and leant into the road. He had to pull it back onto the pavement so it wouldn't hit the cars. It's gums were wild with spit and young kids would rush over to stroke it then receed when they saw his mouth. He would say that it is just excited, energetic, enthuastic.
He used to throw sticks and the dog would fetch them. It would run back but instead of dropping the stick at my friend's feet it would clasp its jaws onto it and not let go. By the time my friend got the stick back, all the bark and brown skin of tree had flaked off and it would be damp and chewed.
My friend was laughing a bit as he told me this, even when he came to the bit where the dog wouldn't run for the stick any more, and how he would have to drag it when he walked it. It grew fat and its legs started to shake. Nothing he could do would rouse the dog. He told me about it and smiled softly and turned to me with a laugh clasped between his teeth and unsounding. He said, you know its the same with people, they grow old and die. And i couldn't figure out why he was still smiling.
He told me about the afternoon his dog died. It had been really weak for a while and he knew it must be ill. But all a sudden, he says, the dog, it gets a new lease of life. He is throwing the stick to the dog and taking him out for a walk. The dog kept on pulling at the leash and leaning into the road and going for the stick. It would run and bring the stick back, it would be panting and its gums would be wild with enthusiasm. And He was chewing up the stick into little wet splinters and not giving it back. My friend thought the dog must be over its illness so he kept throwing the stick away and kept getting it back and throwing it again. Every time the dog would run for it.
So the dog was crazy with energy now. It was panting louder and louder and my friend would throw the stick further and further each time. He threw it into the rosebush and the dog went for it, through the thorns. It brought the stick back, my friend said, again gazing into space and smiling. It brought it back and you know what it did? he said, you know, it dropped the stick to me. it was panting so hard and it dropped the stick and let its pink tongue flop over its sharp front teeth. I patted him on the head and he fell over. He died there and then. The poor thing must have had a heart attack with me working it so hard.
My friend was telling me all this and smiling. I remembered what he said about elderly people. I swung on the last of the beer bottle and downed it and felt the carbon bubbles as they fell down my gullet. My friend was still smiling and talking about his dog - poor old thing - he said as he laughed and smiled.
I still am wondering why he was not upset about his dog. I can't figure it out.
He told me about elderly people, how they are doing just fine, at say the age of seventy-five, walking fine, talking coherently, in good shape and all that. Then how in say one year it all goes, in a space of a few months they have lost it and are weak and emaciated. He said thats how it was with his dog.
He was talking to me about it yet didn't seem upset, just looking away distantly with a strange smile on his face. He said he used to walk his dog most nights, and that it always pulled on the leash and leant into the road. He had to pull it back onto the pavement so it wouldn't hit the cars. It's gums were wild with spit and young kids would rush over to stroke it then receed when they saw his mouth. He would say that it is just excited, energetic, enthuastic.
He used to throw sticks and the dog would fetch them. It would run back but instead of dropping the stick at my friend's feet it would clasp its jaws onto it and not let go. By the time my friend got the stick back, all the bark and brown skin of tree had flaked off and it would be damp and chewed.
My friend was laughing a bit as he told me this, even when he came to the bit where the dog wouldn't run for the stick any more, and how he would have to drag it when he walked it. It grew fat and its legs started to shake. Nothing he could do would rouse the dog. He told me about it and smiled softly and turned to me with a laugh clasped between his teeth and unsounding. He said, you know its the same with people, they grow old and die. And i couldn't figure out why he was still smiling.
He told me about the afternoon his dog died. It had been really weak for a while and he knew it must be ill. But all a sudden, he says, the dog, it gets a new lease of life. He is throwing the stick to the dog and taking him out for a walk. The dog kept on pulling at the leash and leaning into the road and going for the stick. It would run and bring the stick back, it would be panting and its gums would be wild with enthusiasm. And He was chewing up the stick into little wet splinters and not giving it back. My friend thought the dog must be over its illness so he kept throwing the stick away and kept getting it back and throwing it again. Every time the dog would run for it.
So the dog was crazy with energy now. It was panting louder and louder and my friend would throw the stick further and further each time. He threw it into the rosebush and the dog went for it, through the thorns. It brought the stick back, my friend said, again gazing into space and smiling. It brought it back and you know what it did? he said, you know, it dropped the stick to me. it was panting so hard and it dropped the stick and let its pink tongue flop over its sharp front teeth. I patted him on the head and he fell over. He died there and then. The poor thing must have had a heart attack with me working it so hard.
My friend was telling me all this and smiling. I remembered what he said about elderly people. I swung on the last of the beer bottle and downed it and felt the carbon bubbles as they fell down my gullet. My friend was still smiling and talking about his dog - poor old thing - he said as he laughed and smiled.
I still am wondering why he was not upset about his dog. I can't figure it out.