I looked up at her and hesitated, before carefully approached her. She was hurt, I could tell. She was huddled in a corner, and her head buried between tucked legs. Her long mahogany hair shielding her face from the world. Leaning my face against her legs, I called out to her. I want her to know I am here for her. That she is not alone. Slowly, she reached out and pulled me into a tight embrace. It was a little tight, but I did not mind at all. She feels warm on my skin, and I can tell she really needs me right now.
The “she” whom I have been referring to, is none other than Sherry. She’s a really busy person, and almost never at home with me. Even when she is, she stays glued to her phone.
She means the world to me.
She’s shown me nothing but kindness and love all these years, and in turn I tried to be there for her whenever she needed me. I’ve been by her side since her adolescent years and I have watched her grow into the fine, strong woman that she is today. And me? I have been in her family for ten human years. That is seventy doggy years. I might be getting a little slow and my eyesight may be a little dull, but I am still her best companion.
I’ve heard humans talking about me being a mongrel. I was born in a park, and I never quite knew who my parents were. But that’s alright. In my early days, I’d see some of my friends there every day, with the usual greetings. They would be accompanied by their human companions, who would turn up at the exact same time daily without fail like clockwork. On one particularly fine and windy day, I was lazing around near the bushes when something caught my eye. A butterfly! But not just any butterfly – this had the colours of the rainbow and it was rapidly flitting away!
Excited, I ran towards the butterfly. I had to see her up close! All of a sudden, without realizing where I was heading, I ran straight into the pond in middle of the park. While some of my doggy relatives are able to swim, but I sadly never had the knack for it. Panic overwhelmed me the instant the water rushed up to my neck, engulfing me. Despite my best attempts to paddle as hard as my tiny feet could handle, I was still sinking like a stone.
In my panicked state, I swallowed a mouthful of water and thought “this is it.” In the same moment, I felt her hands on me. Steady and warm, she pulled me out from the pond and placed me on the bank. Sherry had been a lanky teenage of 14 or 15 back then, and she had saved me from almost certain death.
She could have then handed me over to the authorities. I have seen it happen before. Humans making some phone calls and then handing over my friends over these men in a uniform. They look as though they are doing us a favor, but I dislike them for taking my friends away.
Instead, Sherry brought me home, and cared for me like no one has ever done before. She also gave me a name: “Butterfly”. For the very first time I had a name! That was when I decided I would live my life for her. Ten years have gone by since then, and as of late, she’s been seeing some guy. This strange man has been appearing more and more frequently, sometimes staying the night with her, taking up my spot on the bed. I’m not particularly happy about that. But I figured that if that was what made her happy, why not right? That is the only thing that matters.
Wrong. I couldn’t have been more wrong. He started to hurt her. And despite how much I barked, growled and bared my teeth at him, he never stopped. He would hit her, then apologize afterwards like a coward, begging for forgiveness. There is no worse human on earth than him. I cannot even begin to imagine a man who would hurt someone as kind as Sherry. And these incidents seemed to happen more frequently. The more she cowers, the more dominant he becomes. Today he struck her with a fist, and for that I took a bite out of his leg, leaving him crying and running out the flat like a loser. Leaving me and Sherry behind, giving me some time to nurse her wounds. I know her better than anyone, and I know the real wounds are not the one bruising up on her cheek bone now, but the ones to her delicate heart.
In her embrace, she whispered to me, “Butterfly… I have tried my best not to annoy him, but I cannot do it. Maybe I am just that annoying.” Looking up into her eyes, I gave a soft bark. As though to reprimand her for having such thoughts. What was worse than him doing all these, was her thinking it might be her fault. It hurt me to see her like this, in a spiral of self-blame, when it was that man’s fault. All I can do now is to snuggle up to her and hope it heals her broken heart a little.
When I opened my eyes, I realise that the house has been filled with sunlight. Morning has come around and Sherry was nowhere in sight. “What do you mean you want to break up!?” I heard that man’s voice the same time I caught his scent. The repugnant scent that belonged to that man. Rushing out from the room, I saw both of them in the kitchen, and the man holding a knife. Fear gripped me as I saw him yelling at her. Bursting into a sprint, I charged into the kitchen. I may be old but I will not allow anyone to threaten Sherry like that and live to tell the tale. Like a missile, I burst into the kitchen and sink my teeth into his ankle again, intentionally picking the spot I bit him the night before, which is now covered in bandage. He howled out in pain and kicked me with the other foot. Unable to avoid in time, I felt a great impact smash into my ribcage and the force took me off my feet and drove me across the kitchen floor. That bastard must have broken a rib or two. But like hell am I going to stay down and let him hurt Sherry again. Even now I can hear her sobs and smell the tears running down her face. Just when I looked up at Sherry, I saw a glint of silver and an impact in my abdomen again. I whimpered in shock and looked down, and saw a knife buried in me.
I can’t believe this. He stabbed me.
Sherry screamed in shock and it must have been the worse sound I have heard my entire life. To hear her scream out in genuine fear and horror.
“Stupid dog.” He muttered, and yanked the knife out.
I can feel the blood gushing out from me, with the thick smell of iron. I tried to get up. If I am going to die, I must at least save Sherry first. I raised my head a little, but my body has stopped responding. My vision started to blur, and I whimpered again, panicking slightly now.
Where is Sherry?
Is she alright?
Where?
… Cannot fall asleep now.
She needs me.
Sherry needs me.
Sherry…
And that I felt it. The same warm hands that pulled me out from the pond. Picked me up gently and hugged me close, her body heaving from her cries. All that’s left in the kitchen is Sherry’s floral scent, and barely any traces of that man’s scent.
He must have left. Good…
Why can’t I see? … My vision is so blurry.
I want to see Sherry’s face once more if I’m gonna die.
Sherry… please stay away from that man…
Sherry… I want to see your face…
…
…
Are you still crying…don’t cry… I love your smiles…
…
…
…
—<END>—
Author’s note: #SayNoToAbuse Domestic Violence and abuse are extremely common and is a real problem faced by many. If you are a victim or you know someone who is a victim, please seek help. It is not alright to be abused and it is not your fault, regardless the reason.
