When I was 12 my sister and I asked my parents to get us a dog. At that age I didn’t really care for breeds, I just wanted a dog. A few weeks later, we got my first dog – Lassie, a month old part Alsatian part Pomeranian puppy, cute as hell and livelier than a electric cable cut open and lying on the ground. We almost named her Madonna at my dad’s suggestion but I got to veto it. She was an affection little thing and kept wagging her tail and licking my hands and face.
The first day my sister and I dotted over the little pup but we didn’t know what to do as to when it was time for sleep. We didn’t have a kennel and so we got the big cardboard box and placed it in my sister’s room, propped it onto the side, kept some clothes on the bottom part and tucked Lassie in. At 9pm the puppy was tucked out, having used up most of it’s energy for the day (or so we thought). My sister and I watched it sleepily wag it’s tail and then we switched off the bedroom lights and just kept the bathroom light on and soon Lassie fell asleep. We both lay on my sister’s bed and talked for a long while. A couple of hours later, we were both ready to sleep and I was about to head over to my room when puppy woke up. Now, she was wide awake and wanted to play. She was too noisy and not ready to let me or sis sleep, so my dad took the pup into the cardboard box and placed it in the living room.
I remember that the day after we got her home, she got scared by the fireworks next door (it was some festival or the other) and it broke my heart as I looked into her sad & scared eyes. She would break my heart with longer lasting effect a couple of days later – while I was at school, she got into the garage, knocked over a can of petrol or something and lapped it up. She died that same day and it turned out that she also had some worm infection. As I got the news I broke down and cried for hours and couldn’t stop crying. I hated the world and all it’s cruelty.
I’ve only had the pup for 4 days of my life but she will always have a place in my heart.