I opened one eye and before I could rub it with my paw I felt a horridly moist dog lick across the nose.
"What are you doing Hell Hound!" I hissed. "That is against cat-dog code. You know I draw the line at trans-species inappropriate behavior," I scolded her. However, Hell Hound was not listening. Her eyes were glowing and she was looking past me.
"Did you eat the boy's science project?" I asked, amused. "Dog, your eyes look funny."
"I love the Christies, their pups, and even you, cat. Goodbye!" she barked excitedly and then, leaping over me through the darkness, Hell Hound was gone.
It all seemed too real to be a dream so I trotted upstairs to check on that beast, not because I like her that much, but just since I'm very curious by nature. Could it be possible that Hell Hound had really disappeared? Sure, I admit, I had dreamt about it many times. I had made deals with the devil and certain backyard birds with vendettas to end that Hell Hound's life once and for all. Time and time again I had failed. I was starting to doubt my cathood and even considered seeing a therapist. But seriously, it wasn't me. And, oh my catness! How could it be this easy?
The clock blinked 1:45 a.m. as I entered my lady's dark bedroom where I found her sitting up in bed, wiping her eyes with the back of one hand.
"My lady, why are you crying?" I asked.
"Well, Norman, I don't hear dog growls or snores that rattle the floor with paws scratching, which is the usual every night since Hell Hound constantly dreams she's a ninja spy for PETA. I woke up because, while I was asleep, I thought I felt her jump on the bed and settle down on my feet, something she hasn't done since she was a skinny puppy. When I opened my eyes the room was so quiet and the dog was actually not there. I have a feeling that she died and I'm afraid to look over at her bed in the corner. Tell me you didn't see a ghost just now."
I gulped and admitted that I had.
"She said goodbye," I muttered and my lady gasped.
"I guess I loved that big, pain in my ass a lot," she sobbed, adding, "I really thought that Hell Hound was indestructible."
"Believe me, my lady, we both did," I said. As I rounded the stairs I started to get choked up. But actually it was just a hairball stuck in my throat.
Hell Hound, really named Darby Dog, died peacefully in her sleep this past Monday. My lady is surprised that she is slightly heartbroken. For a history of Darby's fast and crazy life click the label marked "dog" on the tab bar at the top of this blog. In lieu of sending flowers, tell a stuffed toy that his life is now safe.
|Darby Dog a.k.a. Hell Hound May 2001 - May 2012|
Darby had spunk and we loved her so much! :(
"God touched her and she slept"