I'm sorry....I've posted this story too many times
Those that have read this too many times, please forgive me, and scroll on
But, the comments in this thread brings back too many fond memories
My First Friend is still with me....after many decades;
I’ll Never Forget My First Friend
I was three.
He was a few months.
Neither of us had much to play with….but each other.
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We never lacked.
He’d look up at me with complete unwavering trust.
Trying to read my face.
Ears perked up when I spoke.
Wherever I went, he followed.
He rapidly grew, and soon we were face high to each other.
We’d roam the patch of woods up the hill from our place, him guarding my every step, sometimes blocking my way when I got too close to the cliff edge. I didn’t know it at the time.
I’d take my naps nestled into his chest.
He’d lie there, never moving a muscle.
As I grew to boyhood, he remained a part of me, my shadow.
We’d wrestle….he’d let me win.
We’d hunt.
We’d fish.
Not that he took part.
He was no hunting dog.
Just my companion.
We’d share lunch.
He’d listen to my every word, as we sat on the creek bank.
Years passed.
I got very busy, but not so busy that we wouldn’t still roam the woods every so often, even though he had a bit of a time keeping up.
The day came when he just didn’t get up.
I was sixteen.
Mom told me to take him in to the vet.
‘He’ll be able to fix him up.’
I gathered him up and laid him in the passenger’s seat of the pickup, right beside me, and we had one of our conversations while I drove the twenty miles.
It had been awhile.
Too long actually.
I sat on the stool beside the exam table, while the vet did his thing.
Once again my best friend and I were face high to each other.
The vet was talking with my mom.
He handed me the phone.
It was time.
He had to be put to sleep.
OK, I brought him in to get fixed up, and now he’s going to be put down….just like that.
I was told I had to leave the room.
Like hell.
The vet did…..something. I don’t recall.
I held my best friend’s face with both hands.
His ears perked up as we had what would be our last conversation, telling him the reality.
Then I just cradled his head, holding it to my chest, not moving a muscle until, feeling his last breath against my heart, he went to sleep.
Even though the wipers were going, I had a hard time seeing through the rain drops on the way back home.
……..I’ll never forget my first friend
A bit of a poem I cobbled together (I'm no poet) goes with my little story;
