Infrunitas [2008-04-13 01:11:34 +0000 UTC]

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We recently got a Dalmatian this fall. He is a dumb dog and doesn't even know his name, Pongo. My sister's friend got this dog, but couldn't keep him. I felt sorry for them. Pongo was originally owned by one of the princes of Saudi Arabia. His children would abuse the dog, so he gave it to my sister's friend's dad. I was glad that he was away from the abuse. When we got Pongo, we had to herd all of the cats to the back or the second floor of the house. When we finished, I got sad because I thought everything would be fine and that the cats and dogs wouldn't have to be separated. The reason we have to separate Pongo from the cats is because he will try to eat them. I don't know why. If he gets a hold of one of them, he will kill it. Since we have about eight cats at this time, it is a big issue. Well, we have one cat named Gizmo that has a problem with his hind legs. I really feel sorry for him. He can't jump high, so all he can do is hide under the bed. I started to open the door to the back and Pongo slipped through. Fear suddenly started to rush through my brain. Oh, great! What am I going to do now?! All of the cats scattered up in high places out of his reach. Except for poor Gizmos. Oh no! I have to stop him before he does any damage. I ran after Pongo in hopes that I could drag him back to the front of the house. My heart was pounding in my chest. Gizmo ran under my parents' bed. Good. He's safe as long as he's under there. I came up behind Pongo and grabbed him, struggling to get him out of the back of the house. I was almost out of my parents' room when all of the sudden, Pongo jolted out of my hands and ran back. Gizmo, get back under the bed! Look out! He's going to get you! He cornered Gizmo up against the wall and grabbed him by the neck. Panicked, I screamed at the top of my lungs "No Pongo! Mom! Help me!" Tears stated to flow from my eyes as pongo shook Gizmo's frail body. No, no, no! Stop it! I grabbed Pongo and hit him to try and stop him. I felt it was all I could do. My mom rushed into the room and came to my aid. Then she yelled, "Go get Teresa!" My heart raced as I ran through the house and screeched up the stairs.
"Teresa! Pongo's got Gizmo!" She fled down the stairs and ran to the back of the house with me close behind. We ran into my mom's room and I saw Gizmo meow one last air-filled breath and his limbs slowly weakened until he just hung there. He was dead. Pongo had broken his neck. "No" I whispered. My mom separated Gozmo from Pongo's blood-soaked mouth. I felt like a train just ran over me. She gently wrapped him in a towel as Teresa took Pongo outside. We all started to cry and slowly caressed Gizmo's limp body. His beautiful orange fur is now stained with his own blood.
My dad got home and said, "What's going on?" No one answered. Apparently, Teresa had tied Pongo to the railing outside. He deserved it. Pongo came romping in with dad. My mom slowly walked out with Gizmo wrapped in a red towel. He soon saw what had happened to poor Gizmo. Teresa stood beside her as Pongo jumped up to try and get him. My mom pushed him away. We went outside to bury him in our yard next to the holly tree. We started to say prayers and shed many tears for him. The whole time I thought of how it was my fault. It's my fault. All of it. Things just won't be the same without Gizmo.
Later my mom said, "It isn't your fault. And if Pongo hadn't gotten to him, he would have suffered with the problem with his hind legs."
"I really miss him," I said.
"I know, we all do," she replied. The next day we started to look for a new home for Pongo. He is just too much to handle. I will always remember that cold night when Gizmo died, though. Always...

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AshleyLeopard [2006-07-03 22:44:37 +0000 UTC]

This is really good, because it sounds exactly like a story, like someone would tell you. I'm sorry it happened but it's good you wrote it down.

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