Memoriam
Imagine this: a brown dog lies on an old, worn, blue couch with a darker blue blanket thrown over it. Daylight comes in through the blinds drawn over the windows. A hand slowly comes down to rub his head gently.
The dog sighs. He is tired…so tired. The pain went away a few days ago, when his humans started to give him the cheese in greater amounts, but he has known that he is dying.
His name is Noble.
He feels darkness closing in and closes his eyes in nothing more than a blink.
When he opens them again, he is in the same room, and yet not in the same room. A tall, black-robed figure stands before him, scythe already out with a swish as it swings. Noble growls at him—intruders are not to be allowed—and looks back to his humans for help, only to see his body, everything but him and the skeleton faded out, grey.
So he's gone, then. There is commotion around his body, but even that is fading out now. Noble jumps off of the couch, away from his body, and that starts to fade too. With a look that plainly asks, 'What now?' he shakes his head, feeling younger than he has in years.
The skeleton looks down at him gently, but with a cold disliking of one who has been bitten too many times for comfort, and says, THAT IS UP TO YOU. IT'S ALWAYS UP TO YOU. YOU WILL GO WHERE YOU EXPECT TO GO.
Noble snorted.
A BLUE COUCH? A light laugh, now, as the demeanor of the skeleton relaxes. PERHAPS.
And the skeleton fades. There is another moment of darkness, as if Noble had somehow found a way to blink, and then he is in a room, with sunlight splashing in places. Blue couches with blankets thrown on top lay everywhere, as far as he could see. A bowl of food and water lay next to them.
A taste of the food. It's cat food, the weakness that had led to his demise, and yet he knows that in this place, he can eat without end and not get sick. The water is crystal clear, with not a hair or piece of dirt in sight.
As Noble jumps onto a couch, into a spot of sunlight, he sees…or rather, feels…that the sunlight is just warm enough. A hand slowly comes down to caress his head, and he closes his eyes with a contented sigh.
He can hear, as if in the next room, the sound of his humans.
Finis
Disclaimer: Yes, I decided to do it here. So HAH! I do not own anything from the discworld.
A/N: Sorry this is a bit sad (and completely different from my usual tack), but I just found out that my dog's kidneys are failing (yes, from eating too much cat food), and he has a few days left to live, so I decided to write a story for him.
His name is Noble, he is a brown dog with brown eyes. He's a dachshund-beagle mix, about 11 or 12 years old.