In the beginning, it was just the pat the on the head and an occasional scratching behind the ears.  Rover tried to tell himself that it was normal for people to treat each other this way.  For his part, he gave a few low wags of his tail as a sign of mild appreciation.  So long as the food was in the dish, he would tolerate the condescension.  But inwardly he growled.

Still, he could not help but notice that whenever they went for a drive he was always made to sit in the back of the car.  Never up front, and absolutely never asked to drive.  But hey, a ride is a ride, right?  And Rover loved to go for a ride.

Slowly, the events and circumstances of his relationship descended into the same pattern as at his last home, the one he had run away from.  He was made to go outside on even the coldest mornings to “do his business,” and was never allowed to simply use the toilet.  The old woman acted like it was a crime for him even to approach the bathroom.  Then, as the summer slipped away and autumn nights grew colder, he was allowed into the bedroom, but never onto a bed.  Not even the unused bed in the guest room.

“Face it, Stupid,” he growled to himself.  “You’re being treated like a dog.”

The anger grew with every day.  Soon, Rover found himself barking at cats he didn’t even know.  And twice, while on the leash, he tried to pick fights with other dogs.  The postal carrier had gotten to where he refused to come near the porch.  The old lady was told (by telephone) that she would have to come down to the post office and pick up her mail.

Even with winter coming on, Rover knew he would soon have to leave.  “I just can’t handle this kind of treatment,” he reasoned.

And that realization made him angrier still.  Finally, it all came to ahead one day, when Rover looked in his dish to find cold leftovers from the excellent roast the woman had prepared for herself.  “That does it,” Rover said. “That’s the last straw!”

Halfway through the evening news ( a nightly ritual that the old lady had made clear must never be disturbed), Rover exploded into a ranting rage.  He stood up on his hind legs in the middle of the small living room and spoke his mind.  Not the usual “Arf, arf” stuff that he knew was expected of people like him, but with the regular words (and expletives) commonly used by regular people.  He was not doing the old dog and pony show anymore.

“Listen,” he told the old woman, “I’ve got a few things you need to hear and I need to say.” He started venting his frustration, trying to keep his voice under control.  The heavy emotions were nearly out of control, rage seething all through his limbs. “I ain’t gonna put up with this crap any longer!”  Already he was shouting.  So much for self control.

The lady looked up in surprise from the news broadcast.  Actually, it was a commercial break, so she decided to listen for a few moments.

Rover went on to shout about all the stuff that was making him angry, explaining why it wasn’t right to treat him like a dog.  It’s true that he cussed a little but tried to keep it down.  Reason told him that yelling and cussing never persuades anyone of anything but the brute stupidity of the person putting on the show.  Rover tried desperately to get a grip on his anger.

Little by little, the emotion drained out of him, and he was able to speak more eloquently, forming elaborate phrases and even creating beautiful verbal images with which to drive his argument home.  The old lady just sat there with a blank look on her face.  She never tried to silence him or to argue her side of things.  Rover took this to mean that she was being persuaded, that she must be under the spell of his logic.

After Rover had exhausted all the pent-up emotion, and had said all that he thought he needed to say, he dropped back down on all fours, turned and walked out of the room.  Part of him felt that his exit may have been a little too dramatic.  But tough cookies.  He had been wronged and had finally stood up for himself.  He was tired and sleepy now.

“Let the old gal have some time to think over what I said,” he chuckled to himself as he got comfortable in the middle of the big bed in the guest room.

The elderly lady of the house had indeed been impressed with Rover’s behavior.  When the dog finally grew quiet and left the room, she looked back at the TV only to see the credits rolling at the end of the national news broadcast.  She had missed the news story that had been advertised and talked about for the last two weeks.  That single fact impressed her more than anything else that had happened all day.

Early the next morning the lady got the car out of the garage and invited Rover to go for a drive.  He could not help himself.  Even when only the back door was opened, he hopped right in, because going for a ride was just about the best thing in the whole world.  The lady talked sweetly as she backed into the street, turned and drove toward town.

Rover’s excitement grew as they drove down past the supermarket, right by the bank in the center of town, and even beyond the Senior Citizens club on the east side.  “This is great!” Rover thought to himself.  “We’re really going for a good long drive this time!”

A few miles down the quiet road, just before they got to the big woods and the river, the lady turned the car onto a gravel drive with a large sign on the left, and a large rustic building at the end.  Rover could not read.  But the place looked nice, and he could smell the presence of other dogs and various kinds of animals.  They got out of the car and the lady clipped the leash onto Rover’s collar.  Together they walked the short distance from the parking area to the front doors and through them into the Sunny Hills Veterinary Clinic.

After a short wait in the main lobby, they got in to see the vet.  The lady then explained Rover’s problems.  She told how he had been having terrible fits and seizures, how he had been unable to control his bowels, and how he was obviously suffering from pain every day.  The vet suggested a complete examination and some lab work in order to diagnose the exact nature of Rover’s problem.  At this, the lady asked sweetly if they could forget the treatments and simply put the poor creature out of his misery.

The young vet understood.  The lady in front of him was obviously on a fixed income, and could not afford to pay for exams, operations or other medical treatments.  It was clearly painful enough for her to lose her only companion, so why try to break her financially, as well?

The vet assured the lady that Rover would not suffer.

With a final hug and a few sweet words she left the dog at the clinic and made her way home.  The vet led Rover onto an empty operating table where the dog was sedated heavily.  The vet instructed his assistant to wait for half an hour, when the dog would be in a deep sleep, to administer the fatal injection.  Rover slipped away into brilliant dreams of flowery meadows and tall, swaying pines.

The old lady stopped at the supermarket on her way home, to see if the produce department had gotten in any good plums.  The fruit did not look as nice as she preferred, but what was she going to do?  She filled a small bag with the plums and also grabbed a few apples.  As she shopped, she kept thinking about Rover.  From what the vet had said, she knew Rover would be taking his final breath by the time she made it through the checkout.

“I suppose I might have gone too far,” she thought, “having the poor thing put down like that.  But with all his carrying on, he made me miss the very news segment I’ve been waiting for all week.  I just can’t afford to miss the news.  Not with things as they are these days.  And anyway, who needs a dog that jabbers all day in French?”

©2007 Jim Sutton