I bought him the bloody thing three years ago.
It's his birthday in a week, but he doesn't like to wait. So I come to his flat one day with a basket and in it is this small Cattledog pup. Small, dark brown with grayish-blue spots and big blue eyes. Stupid thing is rustling around and panting, ugh. I ring the doorbell and out pops him.
And boy is he delighted to see the present, which is lucky because I sort of went out on a limb on this one. But, god, he loves this thing, immediately, and suddenly I'm wondering if maybe I should have done it sooner.
Since he got the dog the beatings are far and few between; and he kisses me. Really kisses me. Gives me tongue, no bleeding lips, just smooth wet deep kisses and god, is it great. I really should have done this sooner.
One day the pup had finally learned to roll over. I got head, nice long session, even looks up at me during, knowing thats what gets me off. I just smile and wink at the dog, best investment I've ever made.
We make love for the first time after taking him for a walk one day. My god, that was a day in history. Our lips never left each other, and I'm talking four hours of silence. Well, a few groans here and there but it's beautiful. I could've cried if I had emotions.
Enough smut though. This story is about that fucking dog.
Jim walks him every day, lets him lick him all over the face. The pooch sleeps at the end of the bed, never really leaves his side. Seriously, it would wait by the lou until he came out. He buys it special treats, gets it more toys than it knows what to do with, completly serious, it's sickening.
So I finally break down after a few months of him having the damn thing and ask Jim what he's going to name his newly found companion. Not like I really give a shit but he's only ever called it 'sweetie' and 'poochy', at least in front of me; and they both sound like stupid shitty names.
And this is where I want to throw up.
"Sebastian of course." His little tongue slides between his teeth and he knows, just by looking at me, that he's certainly pissed me off.
Suddenly all the months of great times with him pass away. I'm furious, I could kill him. His fucking dog has my name. He thinks I'm a dog. Thinks he treats the dog the way he treats me; finds us similar. God, I just want to wrap my hands around the little shits throat. I hate Jim, I hate him and his stupid dog too. Knew I shouldn't have got him the stupid little runt.
I don't say anything though, we both know how I feel, no need to exaserbate the point.
So I smile and kiss his forehead.
"Perfect." I manage to mumble out between my clenched teeth.
At this point I'm not sure what to do. I want to kill them both. Snap the dogs neck, tie Jim to the bed, toss the canine corpse on top and just light them on fire. Watch them burn for a bit. Well, that's a bit extensive but come on, he named his dog after me, it isn't cute; it's bloody rude.
I let it go eventually. The dogs finally full grown now, and Jims taught it all sorts of things. It rings bells when it needs to go out, he taught the mutt to howl out 'hello'. Really, I'm not making this up, he fucking loves this thing. Now he starts spending more time with it than me, and that's certainly not acceptable. I picked up more missions, trying to stay away from them more and more.
Then Jim tells me I've got an important mission, one I have to stay in town for.
Thats when he blew his brains out.
Yeah.
Well, now the dogs mine.
Stays with me, in this cabin in the woods I've got. No need to be in the city anymore, since I'm unemployed.
I can actually see the resemblance between Seb, the dog, and I now. Sad miserable souls, the both of us. We mostly mope about the house, sit down, watch the tube.
He keeps to himself, I've got a dog door for him. He utilizes it frequently, staying out until dark, then he retreats and plops himself on the couch next to me.
Sometimes I pat him, just for reassurance, to let him know I'm going through the same thing.
This one day he goes out, all day as he usually does, we don't spend much time together. Today's different though, he comes home around noon and drags in this rabbit. And I don't mean a cute little bunny. This thing was huge, a good sized meal. First time I'd ever seen him do anything worth while, much more impressive than saying 'hello'. So I cook it up, feed myself and him for the first time in what seemed like days.
He and I look at each other as we bite into the rabbit, and I think he can read my mind; because he got this fire in his eyes mate. Same fire I've got in the pit of my stomach, I've got myself a hunting dog.
Over the next couple of months we're inseperable, and I can see why Jim loved this pooch. Loyal, friendly, blood-thirsty. Now I realize it, his namesake, and I could cry just thinking about him naming this beautiful creature after me.
I know, I know, I said I hated the thing, but these things grow on you, y'know?
We do everything together now. He and I venture into the woods for a few hours every day, catch us something to eat.
Found this doe one time, never seen a dog latch itself onto a jugular quicker. Proud of him though, the deer was still nearly twice his size. Didn't even have to raise my gun.
So we don't have to go hunting tomorrow, theres enough meat on this doe for a few days of meals. After trotting up in front of me, still splattered with blood, I leaned down and pulled off my dog tags and placed them around his neck. He's earned them, and I think he can tell because he looks up at me and I swear to the Queen he smiled.
He sleeps at the end of my bed now, my new best friend. Well, my only friend, but that's okay, because I'm his only friend and he doesn't seem to mind.
I'm happy with my new life, I've come to terms with it. It's nice, calm, satisfying. We live like this now, Seb and I. Dog door doesn't get much use anymore, unless he's gotta do business.
Then theres one night I really regret that stupid fucking door.
I hear crying outside, Seb is crying. Running towards the door I grab my shotgun and find myself outside. There he is, a few yards away, whimpering and limping towards me. My mind is rushing a million different places at once. Theres no sign of anything else out there so I drop the gun and snatch up the dog.
I brought him in and put him on the couch, his leg was torn up, looked like he'd been bitten by something.
That's where this awful lump in my throat comes in.
I purse my lips and clean the wound, trying to shake off the worries in my mind. After finishing bandaging him I pat him on the head and tell him he's going to be fine.
He doesn't come to bed that night, he opts for sleeping on the couch, his wound too fresh to move.
So I sleep on the floor, next to him, making sure he's okay; but the doubts are nearly screaming at me in my skull.
Within a week he's gone mental. I keep him outside, tied to a post. Nailed up the dog door, no use for it anymore. Seb looks miserable outside, but he's growling and foam is building up at the corner of his mouth and I can feel the tears brimming up in my eyes.
Finally I shake it off, and grab my gun before heading outside. He lunges towards me but his rope is too short. I can see his eyes now, they're red and filled with madness. Sort of reminded me of Jims eyes when he was up to no good.
Setting up my sight I shake off the sadness and get down to business. As I pull the trigger I ask myself out loud.
"Why does everything I love end up with a bullet in their skull?"
