I Still Can't Do It
It is now sometime in the early morning and one of my first painful memories has just woken me
It is now sometime in the early morning and one of my first painful memories has just woken me. The memory was revived by Holmes' experiment on our landlady's sickly terrier. I had to repress a shudder when I watched. I do not like to see animals treated that way, even when I know it is best to end their suffering. The dream that woke me ran through the entire memory and I can recall the whole affair from my early childhood.
Maxus was a two year old dog that I had been given as a gift the year before. He was a beautiful, rich liver coloured hound. A tuff of cream at the end of his tail matched his left ear and a stripe directly behind his nose. His eyes were the warmest brown colour I had ever seen on any animal. Lively and loving, he would run about with me in the yard then come lay with me when we were called in. Maxus was protective of the whole family and loved them all. He would follow mum and I all around when we went into town and sit just outside the doors of buildings he wasn't allowed to be in. He would not move from that spot until we came out again. Unfortunately it was during a town visit that he was grievously injured.
One of the local nobility had ridden his newly trained mare into town. The poor creature was extremely unhappy and skittish; it was easy to see. It was giving its rider a hard time, prancing from left to right and stomped the ground. When the nobleman had finally gained control over the beast, a young man lost his grip on the cart he was pushing and it crashed into the side of a building. The noise spooked the horse. The rider was thrown off and the animal took off. I had lost track of Maxus during the commotion. I heard his yelps coming from the direction of the horse. Somehow he had gotten in the way of the stampeding horse and had been tramped.
Mum and I carried him home. Papa and I tended to him for a week before it was clear he was out of danger. He would survive but the injuries had caused him to go lame. Papa would not have such an animal around the house. It was decided that Maxus was to be put down and I knew nothing of it until the day it was done.
I carried Papa's gun and he carried my hound, my friend. We were headed to a little clearing in the trees behind the house to put poor Maxus out of pain. The sun was tinting the shadows green as it filtered through the trees. Large fluffy cloud drifted lazily, pushed by a cool spring breeze. All I could think the whole way was how much my friend would like to run around on a day like this.
When we reached the clearing Papa gently placed Maxus on the grass. I laid next to him for a long while just stroking his fur. Eventually, Papa came over to pat his head then he shooed me back to the house. I gave my Maxus a kiss on the nose then ran back to the house, crying all the way.
I haven't been back to that clearing since I joined the Queen's troops. It really was a lovely area and we had both loved it. Perhaps I shall take a holiday and go back to the old house. I'll visit the town and spend an afternoon with Maxus.
To this day Holmes still does not know why I was so upset when he let my bull pup run out to the street.