Wylie is a
gentle eight year old giant who wants love. He had lost track of time and could
not pinpoint how long he had been left to fend for himself. He was grateful for
the few kind souls that had left bits of food or scraps out for him.
Occasionally a bowl of water on a hot day would be left in a bit of shade. He
wanted so badly to offer all he possessed for such kindness. Yet, he owned
nothing. Not a possession in the world.
He did; however, have kindness, patience, and adoration available
for anyone willing to accept such charity. He had noticed the anger and
aggravation in the eyes of many of the two-leggers he had come in contact with.
He would try to subject the empty character to his forgiving and gentle gaze in
hopes that a calm understanding would emerge. Often this simple and honest act
would go unnoticed; hence, tossed aside or disposed. He could never understand
how a living and breathing creature could throw away pure emotion. He would
never let these moments of defeat bitter his intent. He always knew that
someday those moments he had as a youth would return through a gaze. The hope
fueled him as he would go without food for days. Days of discrimination and
hatred were frequent but despair was unknown. He was drawn to crowds and on one
hot summer day he found a moment.
He heard the children’s laughter, the mother’s gentle scolding but
felt the kindness in their world. As he gathered near a wave of hesitation hit
him like a strong chilled wind. He thought, “What if the mother acts like
others I have encountered and she shoo’s me away for fear of her children’s
safety?” He lowered his head and approached the group. He had noticed from afar
that they were toting a small red and white house just about his size. He had
long noticed others of his kind had similar things yet never envied them for
it. He envied the thought of giving. He could not pass up this opportunity to
assess this seemingly lovable party.
A moment of reflection as he stood before them lasted seconds but
was his entire lifetime. The lifetime rooted into his heart and kept his
optimism alive. He once had had a family, children even. They played and
cuddled. They had cried in his fur as he held steady by their side. He
remembered the last time he had an accident in the house. It was shortly before
he had been dropped off somewhere which after a long nap emerged with a cone
around his head. The verbal scolding he received was more than he could bear
and from that day on he was sure to let his loved ones know when he needed to
go out. They loved him and he strove every second of his waking hours to please
them. The gentle pat on the head or smile in his direction was worth every
effort. He would fetch the ball and run the yard with his tail held high. He
could never imagine anything better to complete his life. These were the things
he relived in dreams and sometimes would wake up and attempt to reenact but his
hips would begin to hurt and he would become short of breath. The physical
reminders that he was no longer that pup would not discourage him, nor did the
fact that his family was missing. He knew he still had that twinkle in his eye
and a momentary pep in his step.
The feeling of a hand gently falling on his head pulled him from
his memory. He could not help but hold his tail high and wave it in triumph
like the flags in a parade. His excitement swirled in his head like he had not
felt since his days before the week of the cone. He heard the car door open and
the joys of children spill out. “Come here puppy!” Years had passed since those
words had been directed his way and he couldn't contain himself. He
leapt on top of them and laid down. The tone in the mother’s voice caused a
gentle wag of the tail to reassure her that he was not there to harm her
little ones. He nuzzled the young ones in adoration and in his thrill of the
moment never noticed their plea’s to roll down the window because of his
stench. He had the aroma of a fermented swamp only found in the Deep South. His
fur was not long but the matted shedding layered his body like nothing other
than a wild animal. He looked like a coyote with the heart of a gentleman.
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| The Gentleman |
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