I knew he was dying. I had known it. Eleven years together, and this was how it ended, the two alone on the cold marble floor, medical equipment beeping somewhere behind them. Arthur's breathing was ragged and uneven. I could tell this was the end. Arthur let out the faintest whine of pain and I froze.
Tears stung at my eyes, and I clenched a fist, muscles tensing when his body stopped moving. "D-doctor…" I choked out.
A strong wave of relief crashed through me as Arthur took another slow breath. Memories jabbed themselves painfully before my eyes, and before I could stop it, I was sobbing.
"Mommy, look!"
I remember when I first brought him home. I had found him in the street, all alone in the cold. I was ten at the time, and of course, I fell in love with Arthur instantly.
My mother wasn't as pleased. And neither was Arthur, but he needed a place to stay. There was no way he could go back out into the cold.
I can still remember the look on his face when I gave him his first real meal. It was like he was in heaven or something. I think that was the start of our relationship, that food.
In the first few months, Arthur hated me. I was always being chased around the house, his snapping and barking at my heels like a maniac. One of my fondest memories was me sitting up on the kitchen counter while he tried to jump up and bite me. He was always growling.
I thought that was the most adorable thing. Arthur still had puppy teeth, so it didn't hurt when he bit me. At least, it didn't hurt too badly. I don't blame him for hating me. I was always hugging on him like he was a ragdoll.
"Alfred?" Dr. Stephenson asked, coming into the room. "Is he alright?"
I shook my head, wiping away tears. "N-no…"
"It'll be okay. You've been expecting this for a while. I know it's hard. We'll be ready in a moment." The vet said softly, giving me a sympathetic smile. Vlad Stephenson had been Arthur's vet ever since he was a puppy. His bond with Arthur was nearly as strong as my own. I knew it pained him to go through with this.
But we had too. Arthur was suffering.
I think Arthur had been mine for…at least ten months before that one night. Up until then, Arthur had been over-the-top hostile towards me. I was afraid to be around him at time. But that night…it was pitch black and there was a nasty storm. I was terrified that a tornado would mow our house down or the wind would blow a tree over on top of the house.
He must have heard my crying or something, but I felt Arthur jump up onto my bed. The little puppy proceeded to curl up against my chest, thumping his tail ever so gently. He licked my cheek, and I wasn't afraid anymore. I could get some sleep.
That was when things finally started getting better between Arthur and I. I took him on long walks and played with him every day. He had changed completely that night.
He had become my best friend.
A soft whine pulled me from my thoughts and I looked down. Arthur's big green eyes were looking up at me. My heart nearly shattered into a million pieces. I knew what he wanted. I reached into my bag and pulled out the odd green bunny with wings. My mother had sewn it for Arthur years ago, and it had survived all these years. Arthur loved that bunny.
I placed it by his greying head and Arthur loosely picked it up between his jaws. His tail thumped weakly, and it was like someone had shot me in the chest. This tugged painfully at my heartstrings and I just gaped like a beached fish, choking on emotion.
"Mommy…? Where's Arthur?"
The night Arthur got lost was probably the hardest time I had ever gone through. He had managed to slip through a little hole in our backyard fence and bolt. I was terrified for him, and at the same time heartbroken that he had left me.
We didn't see him for a whole week. We put up signs and everything. I spent five days crying my eyes outs, thinking up hundreds of scenarios Arthur could have gone through, all ending in him dying somehow. It was absolutely miserable.
Finally, someone called us and brought Arthur home. I felt so mixed up inside. I wanted to love him and hold him close, but at the same time, I was angry that he had run away. He gave me that sweet little look, and I couldn't be angry with him anymore.
And that time he had protected me from the intruders? Yeah, that was always a warm and fuzzy memory. The time we had spent under the oak in our backyard was a good one too. And the fights I had with Mattie over ownership of Arthur…so many memories flooded my mind, making me dizzy.
Arthur had gone limp again, his breathing random, and in short bursts. He was in a lot of pain. I ran a hand over his tan back, stroking him comfortingly. "It'll be okay, Artie. You're going to be okay." I said, stumbling over my own words.
"Alright, Alfred…" Stephenson said, reentering the operating room. He had a small cart, and the tray on top held a towel, and a small needle.
I choked out a sob, pressing my knuckles against my mouth to keep from crying out at the sight of it. This was the end of the road. The veterinarian knelt down next to me, and a felt a light arm around my shoulders. A tech knelt across from us, on the other side of Arthur.
"Are you ready?" Stephenson asked softly, squeezing my shoulder.
I nodded slowly, unable to meet Arthur's eyes. I felt so guilty for doing this. Arthur was my baby, the love of my life, my best friend. And now I was losing him.
"It'll be okay, Alfred. You're doing the right thing." Stephenson said softly.
I probably would have been okay from that point on, but Arthur looked up at me. I met his gaze. He looked…confused. I knew he wanted to know what was going on. I tried to give him a smile, but all I managed was an ugly, crooked frown. His tail thumped innocently, as if he didn't understand I was upset, and I broke down, pulling him closer to me. The old dog shifted himself over onto his side, resting his head in my lap.
"Alfred?" Stephenson said softly, making sure I was okay. I nodded, staring down at Arthur. I tried to make the tears stop, but I knew that wouldn't be happening.
Arthur twitched slightly as the needle was pressed into his skin. I knew there wasn't any turning back. The vet stayed with me as I broke down into sobs, curling my fingers into the dog's short fur. Eventually, Arthur drifted off to sleep. Within five minutes, he wasn't breathing. His muscles had relaxed completely. I pulled the old, broken corgi into my arms, cradling the corpse against my chest. It was over. Arthur was gone.
"I-I'm so sorry…" I whispered into his soft fur, regretting the entire thing so much. "…so sorry…"
