The Final Duty
#1 of heavyheart
There was something in my blood. It was circulating around my body, delivering itself to every last organ and bit of muscle. With it came a slight lightheadedness, which set in after a week. Not much else changed for a while. I had nearly forgotten about the bite, on the third week. I came inside for dinner, being as normal as possible. The dog door flapped shut, and I walked over to my plate. On it sat 3 tennis ball sized hunks of meat. I gave a light bark to the man who filled the plate, Sean.
Sean had rescued me from a puppy mill across town when I was 2 months old. I cannot remember much before that, save for it being a terrible place. He let me ride in the passenger seat of what I came to know as "car". He kept looking at me, with a look on his face I had never seen before then. A look I cherish: love.
Now, 5 years later, I still see that face. I try my best to show him the same expression, but a dog can only twist his face so many ways.
He walked past my plate and smiled.
"Enjoy that steak, Alpha; most dogs don't get that much meat in a lifetime."
I had heard him say this before. I understand, but am also distraught. I wish all dogs could enjoy what I enjoy. I have it good.
I awoke later that night, around what Sean calls "midnight". My head was slightly hot and my muzzle was feeling what could only be described as fuzzy. Thinking that it was simply a change in the air conditioning system, I moved over to where the vent blew cool air. On the other side of the bed, Sean was sleeping deeply. He was probably dreaming of "motorcycles", or specifically, "Harley-Davidsons". He shares his dreams with me, and they almost always have something to do with them.
Feeling comfortable again, I drifted off to sleep.
The next morning was odd. I felt off, like there was a change in the air. When I rose from the bed, a fit of dizziness spiraled around my head. It took a whole minute for me to overcome it, only to be welcomed by a renewed hotness. I groaned, and leapt down from the bed. Sean was cooking in the kitchen; I could smell eggs and jalapenos. Sean had told me, once, that females "love a man that cooks". Why he would tell a dog I can't help but wonder.
I yawned as I walked into the kitchen. Sean looked down from the stovetop and spoke, "Good morning, Divino Uno. How was your night?"
I pulled my lips back into a smile, showing bright white teeth.
"That good, huh?" he smiled, and flipped the "omelet" over in the pan.
I rubbed against his thigh, and walked to the room with the picture box in it. The picture box was the most curious of devices. Sean calls it a "TeeVee", and always leaves it on for me to watch when he's at work. A lot of different things show up on it, and I frequently hear about things in the world. Every day there is a female on it that talks about things happening in the town. Sometimes he changes it to a new channel; on it would be documentaries on animals, shows about humans that help animals, and a plethora of other things. I sat down in front of it, my head still hot. Sean walked in and turned it on, this time to the channel with animals. He grabbed his coat and backpack, and turned to me. He knelt down, as he always does, kissed me on the muzzle, and said, "I love you." I pushed my muzzle to his face, showing as best I could, that I loved him too.
One of the shows that were on that day was "Rabies". I had not seen it before, and it caught my attention with its urgent sounding. It detailed a disease that is common in pets, and is transferred through bites. With every minute I watched, my eyes widened more and more. First is the bite, an average of a month later the "Prodromal" phase, which is characterized by fever and attitude change.
I ran it through my brain. It had been a month. It had developed fever. It was a bite...
I have rabies.
I could not wait for Sean to come home. I waited impatiently by the door, I paced up and down the hall. Why? I couldn't tell him about it, and even if i did, the show said there was no cure. The tell tale rumble of Sean's Harley-Davidson moved through my ears. I leaped up, jumped at the door, and barked uncontrollably. What was I doing? You know better!
I regained myself, and lay down on the couch as the rumble of the motorcycle's muffler was cut off. Moments later, Sean walked in, happy as ever. I barked.
"What's goin on?" he asked. I tried to convey my meaning; that I was infected, but nothing but murrs and whines resulted. Sean's face changed from happiness to worry, I was obviously acting strange. He inspected me several times over, all the way from my pupils to my tail.
"I can't find anything wrong, but just to be safe, ill take you to the vet tomorrow."
I smiled. He may not be able to spot it, but the vet would.
The next day came, along with a headache and increased fever. Sean came home, we hopped in Car, and drove to the vet. We had to wait in a room before we could see the doctor. Across the room was a cat with a missing front leg, and next to her was a pit-bull barely hanging on to life. He was sitting by his owner's side, as loyal as could be. He was breathing heavy, and many of his wounds were oozing blood.
For a second, I thought the man with the pit-bull had brought another dog. I blinked. It was a little girl, who was no higher then the dog. Her face was digging into the dog's. Tears were streaming down her face, and her arms were wrapped tightly around the dog's neck. I wondered what had transpired. Several of the doctors rushed out and brought the pit-bull back to their emergency room. They had to pull the girl off of him.
A few more minutes passed, and I heard my name called. Without hesitation I walked over to the nurse with the clipboard. She looked down and smiled, "hi! So what's goin on with you..." she trailed off as she turned to bring me back to the room. Sean waited in the lobby.
Two more days had passed. Sean hadn't been to work since he found out; every second of his day was devoted to loving me. He cooked large portions for me, took me for walks in the desert, hugged me constantly. Before bed he would read to me a book called "Bible". He showed his love so thoroughly, and I could only smile back, and wag my tail.
The sickness worsened. Fever was constant, bouts of dizziness occurred every other hour, I drooled and foamed occasionally. The doctor said there wasn't much of a chance of me pulling through, and gave me 5 days. How incredible, how a being can give another a limit of life.
Sean said he had a surprise for me. We stopped, after riding for what seemed like forever in "car". He turned to me, a cheeky grin on his face, and spoke, "Welcome to Lake Tahoe."
I was a year and a half old. I jumped up onto the "car's" dashboard, peering out to the wilderness. In front of me there lay a camping ground, with several other "cars", "grills", and people. Beyond that was a magnificent blue lake. I had never seen anything like it. It was bigger then anything I'd ever seen!
We spent the day walking, playing, and visiting other dogs. Sean took me up to a high part of the surrounding land where he laid out a bag of metal and synthetic cloth. Over the next ten minutes he turned that small bag into a house fit for a family! But of course, that is who resided in it; a family. Sean and I. We sat at the entrance and watched the sun set over the lake, before zipping up the door and reading a book.
It was late; several hours after the sun went down. Sean was cuddled up next to me, his arm draped over my ribs. It had fallen quiet after Sean put the book away. Both of us were drowsy.
"I love you," Sean whispered, and I answered, "I love you too"
But of course, I am a dog, and all he heard was a murr.
My eyes slowly crept open, revealing the backyard of my house. I had fallen asleep on the porch again. The sun which facilitates snoozing had gone down, and now was replaced by a quarter-full moon. The light was just enough to see the back wall by. I lifted my head and examined the land. To the left was a pool, beyond that was a patch of grass. Further right was more grass, and a shed in the corner. My view came to rest on Sean, who had fallen asleep by my side in a lawn chair.
There was a rustling in the bushes, and I turned with lightening speed to it. A low growl developed in my diaphragm. Two green-gold eyes appeared from the darkness, along with a bright white smile. Tox the cat. I huffed and rolled my eyes as the slinky feline moved out in to the open. She gave me her playful smirk, which I answered with another huff. Her smile faded, and she tilted her head inquisitively.
Dogs and cats cannot communicate well. I think this is one of our downfalls as both are kept by humans. The world would be much better if species could communicate clearly between each other. I shook my head, she lowered hers. I couldn't tell her why I can't play, only that I can't.
"Hey, Tox," Sean grumbled, barely waking up. He got up slowly, and walked to the door, "lemmie get ya' a snack."
Sean went inside, and Tox pawed over to where I was. She raised her front paw and lightly batted my ear with it. I gave a weak smile, but motioned her to keep away. I couldn't live with myself if I gave her the disease. She ruffled her whiskers and decided to play with my tail. Sean came out with a small grin, and a small bag of jerky bits. He shared them with Tox and me.
"You don't get it, he needs me!" Sean yelled into the "phone." I could hear the man on the other side;
"And I need you, here! He's just a dog, man! You can get another one!"
Sean was shaking, his teeth barred and showing, "He is a person, just like you or me! No, he is better! I've told you before and I'll tell you again: animals do not sin as man does!"
There was a sigh and a pause on the other side, then, "If a mutt that gives you nothing is more important then a job that pays 72 grand a year, fine. You are fired!"
Sean stood, shaking, as the man on the other side hung up. His face went blank for nearly a minute, before he bellowed, "DAMNIT!" and threw the phone against the wall, shattering it. He stumbled over by where I was and plopped down. Tears were streaming down his face, and he was trembling.
"I- I don't know what to do. I won't leave you, I can't! but..." He broke off into the throes and hics of sobbing. I nuzzled him, and tried harder then ever to show my love. He needed his job; it was what kept him here. I will only be here for a few more days, he will remain. He cannot loose his livelihood because of me. I couldn't allow it. Before long, I had started to tear up too. We sat there, crying in each others arms, for what seemed like eternity.
Another day had passed. For most of it, I had fits of different symptoms, ranging from lightheadedness to rage. Rage directed at nothing, but ever-present. I once sat growling at nothing for 15 minutes before Sean snapped me out of it. I tried to eat, too, but my appetite was nothing like it used to be.
Sean spent the day thinking of what was to happen after it was all over. If he should try and get his job back, if he should search for a new one. He was the most prominent architect in the city, and while he didn't make as much money as the big name mega designers, his buildings were marveled by nearly everyone who saw them. It wouldn't be hard for him to find another firm with which to work.
It was past dinner. I was starting to feel woozy, and swayed when I walked. I was lying on Sean's lap, and we were passively watching the evening news. Sean sighed and muttered, "What is this world coming to..."
I heard a clicking noise, barely audible. My ears perked up, but I heard nothing more. It must have been my sickness, I thought. Several more minutes passed, and another clicking noise, this time more aggressive. I raised my head towards the noise. It was the door...
The door crashed inward, behind it a black boot. Rushing through the doorway was a large man, dressed in grey-black clothes. Sean pushed me behind him, and shouted, "get out!"
The man behind the mask gave a gasp, before raising a nickel-plated revolver. His eyes narrowed in the split second before pulling the trigger. A red spatter expanded from Sean's left shoulder, and sent him crashing into the end table. My eyes widened, and I shouted "Sean!"
But of course, I am a dog, and all that I could do was bark.
I turned to the intruder, and leapt from the couch. Within a single bound, I was at the man's leg. I tore into it and ripped back as hard as I could, tearing a chunk of meat out of it. He let out a yelp and fell to one knee. His eyes flashed, and he raised his revolver towards me. I rushed towards his throat, but inches before there was a shattering blast. I was knocked back and felt a hideous pain in my chest. Pushing it all aside, I rushed again, this time successful. I clamped my jaw and tugged at the vein running from his head to his torso.
Another shot entered my stomach. I felt nausea flash inside me, but I was concentrated only on saving Sean. With a final tear I fell from the man's neck, a portion of it in my muzzle. He let out a gurgling noise, before falling to the ground. There he thrashed for a second, then fell still. The revolver dropped out of his hand.
I was shaking and breathing heavy. My eyes moved to Sean. He was pulling himself up off the table. He saw me and his eyes widened. He ran over to me, just as I dropped to the floor.
"Alpha... oh my god..." he gulped. I looked up at him.
"I love you, Sean."
But of course, I am a dog. All that I could do was smile.