And I am a dog. Well, a mutt to be exact. A very cute mutt nevertheless, with eyes so soulful that when you gaze deep into them you could almost see puppies (the other ones).
I sense skepticism. Well my faithless friends, a picture paints a thousand words.
No? Couldn’t see my eyes clearly? Shame. They were beautiful.
That is right.
I am the ghost of Ripley the mutt.
In fact, Ripley might not have been my real name. It was Jordan who named me Ripley. Why, I do not really know. Actually I do not know a lot of things, except that I was born a black dog.
Then there was pain.
Less than 2 months after I was born, I was set upon by nameless faceless cowards who couldn’t fight people their own sizes, hence they chose me to be an unwilling victim of their senseless brutality in the name of fun. Isn’t it funny how some people gain gratification from physically scarring little animals – babies in fact such as me? If I were born a human baby, I wouldn’t even be tottering down the street! But because I was a puppy… so defenseless, so helpless..
It hurt a lot. But I tried not to show it. Ma would have been proud of me. She said that these bullies get their kicks from visible show of pain and fear. Some really fucked up shit there, their lives must be really empty.
I don’t remember much of what happened. It was all very fuzzy and when I was abandoned near where Jordan and Leen live, I had a rubber ring around my neck almost cutting off my air supply. I couldn’t walk properly and had to sit down for a bit before trying again.
Frank and Aida took me back to their home and treated me like a little puppy prince. Not all humans are nasty after all!
The next day Jordan and Frank took me to see an animal doctor. The animal doctor told them a lot of things that I didn’t really know… because well I can’t see my own back can I? He said a lot of things, like my groin area having lots of lumps, something sticking out was due to a separate hernia, it was so badly inflamed and would get severely infected… most likely caused by someone running me down or kicking me real hard.
What sticking out?
That was some horrible shit isn’t it? And I was lugging it around like dying bees after stinging someone.
Next thing I knew, I was flying upwards looking down at Frank and Jordan trying not to cry over my dead mutt body. When I checked back on these kind folks not so long ago, I found out that Jordan wrote about what happened with me on something called a blog, and Frank even wrote a beautiful poem for me! Imagine that!
I am definitely happier now. If I had to write something to the people who crushed a little puppy like a blood-loaded mosquito it would be short and sweet, and goes something like this :
You are a sick sick sick sick person. You are wasting earth’s precious oxygen just by still being around.
You think you got the better of me, but here I am now laughing my tail off at you in my shiny golden halo, flickety wings and satin white robes.
Because all dogs go to heaven.
I hate to stop here but I do have to go. Tea time with Mother Teresa and all.
See you at dinner then!
Hahaha, just kidding. Enjoy Hades, bye!
Your puppy loving puppy,