I wrote a short story "She Cried for Me" after my pet dog died on 17th May 2017. It was a sad day for me and with tears in my eyes, I wrote a short story about her. She was a homeless dog who my husband and I had taken in ten years ago.
It is also standalone.
Proceeds of sales of the Book will go to the Animals Alive Dog Rescue Shelter in Trinidad, the Sanctuary referred to in the Book.
Only 0.99 cents
Read a sample chapter below:
She Cried for Me Chapter One
“What are you doing here, dog?” he shouted. I cringed as I saw the broom raised in his hand. It came crashing down but I darted away for cover under the steps. He came after me and I lay crouched in the lowest part of the area where he could not get at me. He stooped to glare at me and blurted out, “When I get back home tonight be gone from here. Do you hear me, dog? I cannot afford to buy myself a proper meal, far less feed you. For your own sake leave, or I will kill you.”
I heard from my master those last words. I was scared to death. I was just sitting on the lawn. I was not disturbing him. Why did he hate me? Where would I go? I was born there.
My mother gave birth to my brothers and me under those steps where I lay. My master’s wife who loved us and took care of us passed away one month ago. My mother died of starvation two weeks after my master’s wife died. He gave away my brothers to two of his friends.
I recall that day. His friends came to visit him and they started drinking and behaving raucously. They were also smoking something, which smelt awful.
Late at night, three of them stumbled out of the house. They looked at us as we huddled together on the ground. We were hungry and expected dinner. My master threw some scraps of bread on the ground. They turned to leave.
One of them turned around and asked my master, “My son has been asking for a pet. Can I have that one?” He pointed to my brother. He was better looking than I was. In fact, both my brothers were better looking than I was. I am a girl but I was scrawny looking because I lacked proper care and nutrition.
“You can have all three,” he said. ”My wife loved pets but I have no time for them. To me, they are bloody nuisances.”
“I will take one for my son too,” said the other man. He stood for a while looking at us, glancing from one to the other. I hoped that one of them would take me away and feed me. I started thinking how nice it would be to be the pet of a little boy. It was not to be. In the blink of an eye, they took up my brothers and walked off with them. I was alone. My master looked at me and said, “No one wants you, dog. I am stuck with you.” I felt abandoned. I did not even have a name. He addressed me as ‘dog’ each time.
For days, he did not feed me. Luckily, for me, the little girl next door would throw me a few sausages when she was feeding her dogs. She was very kind, and her dogs came close to the fence to keep my company.
When my master was at home, he would sweep the yard and threaten me with the broom. At times, he would hit me with the broom and I would run off howling in pain. It was becoming unbearable to live there anymore.
END OF SAMPLE
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