The deer slug took him high on the shoulder just as he leapt. It half turned him in midair, almost tore the right front leg out of the socket. He landed on his side not two feet from where my brother lay sprawled. His landing kicked up a great yellow cloud of dust that hung briefly, suspended in air. The pall descended slowly, fatefully over the scene. We held our breaths,and prayed it was over. Finally, my brother scrambled up off the ground, half yanked to his feet by my mother who then clutched him to her breast as he tried to move toward the dog. 1
Tears already had washed parallel black icicles through the fine layer of dust that coated my brother’s cheeks. Silently, we watched the last few painful, shuddering gasps of breath taken into the shattered chest of the dog as his blood stained the soil of the golden prairie black. 2
My finger tightened on the second trigger of the shotgun as the dog's head weakly swiveled to face us. Could’ve sworn he grinned at us one last time, gamely tried to wag his tail, then the light went out of his eyes and a little storm of dust kicked up as he exhaled a final tortured breath.3
I remained poised, ready to fire the other slug into him if he raised up, until I felt the fists of my little brother pounding, striking at my ribs and arms. And my mother weeping, lowered the barrel of the gun I held with one of her hands, and simultaneously tried to restrain my hysterically sobbing brother with her other hand.4
A sudden weakness overcame me and I nearly dropped the gun. It was not much in the way of thanks to the dog who had loved, helped and protected us until the madness of hydrophobia cruely ravaged, hopelessly distorted his mind. It transformed a gentle pet into a slavering beast. A fanged nightmare, he had size, heft and cruel slashing canines that could reduce us to mangled scraps of flesh in a very few savage, horrific moments.5
Maybe it was better this way. Had my little brother not opened the shed where we had him in quarantine, I don’t know if I could have brought myself to kill him. With my brother and mother’s lives in danger, I never gave squeezing the trigger a second thought…until it was over. The last thing I recalled before going to get the spades and shovels we would need to bury Old Yeller was my mother gently hugged me and then wiped the black icicles from my cheeks with her thumb.6
Author notes
Some endings stay with you a very long time. Why is it tragedy imprints our memories so forcefully?
A contest entry
- Disney writing contest ;D by Colourful.
275 points, ended October 17, 8 entries
• next story in this contest, • Add to finalists list, or remove from contest
Too gruesome for Disney?
Comments
1 - 9 of 9
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A great but tragic story!
People from the city are unloading their animals in the country.
Hard times are here for many: so many unemployed, losing their health insurance. They mistakingly think that the animals can take care of themselves if dropped off on a country road. Not so.
One of the hardest things is to drown the wild kittens in a bucket of water while the mother cat looks on. Cruel but necessary.
Otherwise they will die of starvation or disease. There is not enough territory for all the cats to live on.
We do leave table scraps and cat food out. But it's not enough. As soon as the kittens grow up the other cats will run them off to starve in the fields.
So my choice is to give them a quick death or let them starve.
So I do what I must, but it makes me cry to do it!
The local shelter is overrun with cats for adoption. But noone will take the wild cats as they will run off.
A great story of the pain of losing a good friend.
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Thankless Payment
Thanks for the kind remarks. I get upset by folks abandoning pets in the countryside also. Nothing I hate more than people who buy a thousand dollar dog, and then decide it's too much work or it chews up furniture so lets get rid of it. Since I am supporting a dog and three cats, it pains me to know you have to make the choices you do with the kittens. Don't let my wife or kids know, you'll be at Nuremburg before you can say "here kitty."
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Not too gruesome, Disney has done PG13. I really liked this, even though it was incredibly sad.
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It's like watching the scene all over again. I don't know how many times I have watched that, but you put me right back there. It's like it's playing through my head.
What a wonderful choice. I guess the only other scene that comes to mind is when the father shoots The Yearling.
They just don't make movies like they used to.
Great job
Trish
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Thankless Payment
Thanks for the kind words. I know the scene has stuck with me for more years than I care to remember. Wouldn't even encourage my kids to watch it on video. Agree about the Yearling & that they just don't make 'em like they use to. Despite all the computer generated graphics and new technologies you still need a story.
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This made me cry. Way too many sad memories! Though you did pick one of the most heart pulling scenes of all
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Thankless payment
This is a thankful payment. I appreciate your reading it. Sorry if it was painful. My wife couldn't even finish reading it.
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We held our breaths, prayed it was over. -> held our breath, and prayed
callously ravaged, twisted -> seems awkward
slashing canines -> is canines the right word?
Nicely written.
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Old Yeller
Thanks again for the astute comments. I have incorporate them. didn't change canines because I'd already used fangs and after all dogs are canines so I'll ponder it and try to find another expression.
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