I’d always loved toy dogs. Ever since I was a little girl, I always wanted one. But dad would hear nothing of it. Mum hated dogs and that was it. I mean, what harm could they do? They were just tiny creatures needing love and they also kept company.
Take for example the Pomeranian. Its foxlike head made me drool, after well, Fox and the Hound. I saw a documentary on Animal Planet about it and I fell in love with this little creature. I couldn’t stop talking about it to my nanny. The mane around its neck looked like a ready pillow I could cry in when a boy breaks my heart. See, I was prepared for that sort of thing.
I had no sibling you see, and mum was always at work till four. Dad’s work made sure he was always with us only at weekends so I was quite lonely.
I had explained all these but they advised me to get a friend.
Friendship. What did they know about friendship? I never saw them bring anyone at home, well, except this one time a slim lady had come looking for dad. Mum was around that Saturday and I could feel the heat running from her eyes to where she sat, even as she smiled forcibly, showing her upper gums. Sigh.
Well, I had no plans of getting one, until Candace.
The Temples had moved in a week before and they had a daughter. Mum urged me several times to go say hi. Me, I’ve always been shy and she knew this. So every time she told me to go, I’d lie that I might have a panic attack and die. To this she always smiled.
Well, Candace was woke; always talking about the latest things, always wearing the latest clothes, almost seemed to know the right thing to do at the right time; almost. She also had a toy dog, sadly. I watched her everyday from my casement window.
I caught her at the back of a black sedan one time. She was reading a book and laughing. Her head was flung to the back of the seat like she was laughing hard at something. I was timid and shy but I wanted to belong, I wanted to feel. I walked to the car. She was oblivious of it all because when I stepped closer, when I saw what I saw, she screamed. I held my scream at the back of my throat.
There was a little dog on the floor of the small car and its fore paws rested solidly on her laps as it swiftly but furiously licked at her privates. She pushed the dog down as I turned back and started running. I recognized the dog. That was her pet, Maurice.
That was ten years ago.
I smiled as this young boy with a rainbow colored scarf tied around his neck tried to leash his small dog. I knew if that dog came close to me, I’d kill that boy with that scarf then take that dog to a very high building and let it fall.
That was the hundredth dog I’d kill in my mind since Maurice.