by Meaghan Louise

Created on: August 02, 2008

For Zane.

I don't know how old he was when he found me. He was a boney ball of mud crusted fur and fleas. His face was squished and strangely shaped, his crooked teeth protruding from under his dry,black nose.
"Poor thing" said Narelle "no one will ever take him, he's too ugly."

But there was something in the way he looked at me. His little body was abused and broken, his spirit dented almost beyond repair.But those eyes. Those huge brown saucers looking ot from under those mud caked brows. Something in them said "I trust you."

So I took him home.

I washed him clean.

I removed the fleas.

I fed him well.

I loved him much.

And he was my friend.

For ten years he loved me unconditionally. Looking at me with his big saucer eyes and crooked smile. He would leap for joy when I came home and wait quietly for my return when I went away.
He sat at my feet on cold winter nights and followed me where ever I went.He saw my children arrive. One by one. Small squalling bundles that he treated as his own.

He shared my secrets. My hopes. My dreams. My dissappointments.

He was there for comfort when the person I had chosen for my soulmate hurt and betrayed me.
He helped me pack my things and find us a new home.
For me, the children and him.

He licked my hand and understood that some wounds are hard to heal.

He smiled back when I learnt to smile again.

He saw me through a cancer scare,a career change and another bad choice in men.

He was there when I doubted my own abilities.

And shared my joy when my children excelled.

He judged each man I dated. And finally chose Mr Right for me.

Then one day he couldn't walk. He fell to the ground and shook when he tried.
He coughed and spluttered and wheezed.
The vet prescribed antibiotics and said he would come good. Maybe.
But somewhere inside I knew he wouldn't.

I had hoped that his last days would be peaceful. That he would go softly to sleep and never wake.

But his final hours were violent. Full of coughing and wheezing and pain.

When his little body finally ceased to shake and his big saucer eyes closed for the final time. I thought I would feel relief. I would feel his spirit fly free. I thought I would rejoice for him.

Instead my heart fell out.

It smashed upon the ground and bleeds still.

Every time I close my eyes, I see his crooked smile.

His saucer eyes.

He whispers in my ear.

'I trust you.'

And I know that he is still here.

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