Two minute fiction: Abandonment


By Julie Hill

It was clear from the dog's body language that he had given up hope. From the
wagless tail, to the hopeless eyes, he was dejected. He lay in misery -
it was all over for him.

He kept his vigil, barking an unheeded warning at the people who passed by, but
none of them was interested in the dark huddled depressed form - they kept
on walking.

It had been such a shock to him. He had heard it could happen, but he had never,
ever in his worst cat haunted nightmares dreamed it might happen to him. Life
had been sweet, he'd thought - a loving family, but then without warning
he was on his own. He recalled the regular walks, the good food, the companionship,
and a quiet whine escaped him.

He put his head down on his paws, and continued the endless wait. Time passed,
he neither knew nor cared how much - he was beyond caring now. Hunger
gnawed at his stomach, and he was sure his coat was losing its shine.

Then - a sound, a distantly familiar sound from the good old days. The car!
He sat up as it swung onto the drive - could it be? Was it?

By the time the key was turned in the front door he was ready with an exuberant
welcome for them, barking excitedly, jumping, licking.

The tallest one knelt down, and he rolled onto his back in anticipation of
the tummy tickle.

"Oh dear Max!" she laughed as she stroked him. "You'd
think I'd left you for days, not just nipped out to pick the kids up from school!"

He wasn't listening, squirming on his back, his problems clearly consigned
to the past.