Good Boy

The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window.

Well, years are relative, but it surely seems like it’s been that long. Then again, I’m seven, so what do I know?

The candle was necessary considering we hadn’t any electricity, and the group of people had all seemed very dismayed before taking me away from my father.

I’m getting ahead of myself; I should probably start back at the beginning, or at least, what leads up to my life ending as it is this very moment.

I lived in this cabin all my life with my father. He was very kind to me, always taking me to the lake to swim and play ball. We curled up cozy in his bed or reclining arm chair, even when I was too big to actually fit.

Life was great, but one day he fell and never got back up. I’d finished all the food I could reach. I’d grown lonely, but mostly, starving.

His smell had changed dramatically, and I had an increasingly hard time finding it unpleasant, on the contrary, as the days without food increased, I found myself looking at him as if he’d never been my father.

I’d whimper and lick my chops.

When the hunger grew too much to bear, I decided he’d slept plenty long enough. I trotted to him and gave his face a lick.

He didn’t respond.

In fact, the normal rhythmic movement he had displayed in the past wasn’t there anymore.

He was so still, and flies buzzed around him incessantly.

Drool drizzled in a glop to the hardwood floor.

Maybe I could give him a light nip…

I would never hurt him, but he didn’t seem to be getting up anytime soon, so may be a little nip would be just the thing to rouse him.

I bit harder than I had intended, and some flesh came away in my mouth.

It tasted better than anything I’d ever eaten.

I swallowed it whole, and my stomach rumbled for more.

My father didn’t move, and not a sound came from his gaping mouth.

Surely he wouldn’t miss his face.

My small bites became bigger and bigger.

After his face, I began gnawing on his fingers.

The bones made the most satisfying crunch.

Crunch, crunch, crunch.

Mm… I’m still hungry…

Should I tear at his clothes? I’ve seen him without them, so surely they aren’t necessary…

Maybe I shouldn’t. Will he be angry with me?

I’ll take a break. Maybe he’ll wake up.

I had diarrhea in the floor and vomited some of him. I didn’t remember eating his hair.

I vomited again, but then I ate that too. It’s better than tearing at his clothes. He seemed to like wearing them.

I drank from the toilet again, and again, and again.

I don’t like how I’m feeling. I want to nip him again, but something feels wrong. I cannot understand it.

That’s when the people approached; I could smell them, and I barked as my tail wagged.

Maybe they’d help my father.

They lit the candle in the window…

It was strange to see the light. I lowered my tail when they approached my father, and then I growled.

It was a low rumbling that I didn’t know if I could control.

I bared my teeth.

I’d never growled before. This wasn’t pleasing, the people backed away, and one held something pointed at me.

I tried to wag my tail. I tried to show them I didn’t mean any harm, but I was still hungry, and didn’t want to eat my father anymore.

I made a strange snarl…

I think I heard a sound, but I’m unsure.

Everything disappeared.

I don’t think it hurt.