He was already missing when the kids passed through the unlatched yard gate, and walked through the empty yard carrying their colorful backpacks and textbooks. When they walked inside the house they found their grandparents frantic, their arms reaching for a haptic augmented reality where a dog was still present. They thought the kids would not understand the meaning of loyalty, disobedience, and irresponsibility. Tobi was gone.
He could be at a park chasing pigeons, or walking around the streets sniffing his way back home now, but the kids wouldn't believe it.
"He's dead," they screamed at their grandparents. "He's dead!"
They were old enough to understand the irony of a dog lost from home becoming a refuge for fleas and maggots. They've seen it on television and on the sides of freeways. A bloody rag of fur, intestines strewn near the center divider. It was sick and amusing.
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment