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by Nira Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E · Other · Inspirational · #1416021
A story about being remembered.
The light from the moon reflected in the deep black eyes of the puppy. He sat in a breezy meadow beside a small town. Blades of grass tickled him as they swayed in the night air. He lay wondering about things dogs should never think about. Grief.

He lifted his furry head slightly and whined softly to the sky. Looking into this vast sky he felt very small. His small body shivered though it wasn't all that cold. Why did his best friend have to die?

This little dog was called Dirt by his two friends. He had spent his entire life begging and savaging on the streets his only companions being a scraggly feral cat named Buggie and a mutt named Tooth. He had no humans to take care of him. This had not bothered him, he loved his small and broken family, but it had led to a death of someone who was very dear to him.

Just that morning Tooth had been with them. His shaggy yellow main flowing in the breeze as he smiled his fanged grin. Than a car had stopped his life short when it rounded the corner going too fast-the drunken driver screeching out the window; "stupid damned dogs."

Life was thrust into uncertainty for Dirt. Unquestionable things that where once profound became unsure. Life was a disarray. And as to be expected, he wondered about his own death which seemed to be looming ever closer. Would any one even care when he died? Would no one notice? Would it matter? What did his life even mean?

A shadow crept from the darkness. Buggie cam slinking stealthily into view. She looked at him solemnly. She had been with Tooth for even longer than he had. Both where older than him by many years. She lay beside him purring softly. He stared at her with large eyes brimming with tears.

"Come on dear! Cheer up! Tooth would have wanted you to. I miss him dearly I do, but he's in our hearts. That's all that counts."

He looked at her steadily. "Is it? And when we die who will remember him? Why does life even matter if we can't even make a difference? Life shouldn't have kept on going when he died."

Buggie wrapped her tail reassuringly. "But it did. Life does go on, yes, but you are wrong about not making a difference."

He eyed her sadly. Reaching out his paw he plucked a flower not yet in bloom. "How is that? I see now one talking about Tooth the great. When we die no one will be left to remember and he will have lived for nothing. It is like this flower here. It is dead now. It has not made an impact on the world. No one will remember it."

Buggie lazily took the flower from his grasp. She twirled it in her hand. "Does a pretty flower make you happy when you see it?" She asked.

He shrugged. "I guess. It makes my day a little happier when I see it."

She nodded. "Than it has affected you. It has made your day just a little brighter. With every life it touches, it makes a difference." She looked at him. "Everyone wants to be remembered, but not many people realize that a simple act of kindness or just making someone a little bit happier is all you need to do to be remembered. It is a way of being remembered for who you are and not just for the deeds you did. You live on in the lives you touch."

She smiled at the young pup. "Tooth lives on. He has changed our lives greatly."

Dirt smiled tentatively. "Than I shall be the best dog ever."

They lived on to help many people. They brought food to the poor beggars on the street when ever they had extra. Dirt even managed to save a little girl from being hit by a car. Buggie guided an old lady from a burning house. They became town heroes. They may never be Buggy the great or Dirt the fantastic but they brightened many lives. They where content with this.

A statue was put up of the two, for they where kind of a mascot for the town. A family adopted them though they still roamed the streets together. They finally lived with people who loved them.

Buggie died years later of cancer. She died peacefully, with only one wish, and that was for Dirt's happiness.

Dirt lived a long and happy life. He continued to roam the streets. He stumbled feebly in his old age to the statue to view his old friend. Tooth deserved to be there as well. As his final good act he drew Tooth's smiling face in the sand below the statue with his paw. His task complete he lay down to take a nap. He never woke up. He died next to his very best friends, happy at last.
© Copyright 2008 Nira (loving_lies at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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