Stupid dog

  "You stupid dog." I groaned as I looked at the pile of poop on the floor. It was large, with a suspiciously large fly sitting on top of it. My dog, Elmo, was looking up at me with an innocent look in his eyes, like he hadn't even seen the mountain he'd made stinking up the room next to him. "That's where you're supposed to poop." I spat as I pointed at the newspaper laid out in the corner of the kitchen. He only opened his mouth and wagged his tail vigorously.

I glared at him. He wasn't even my dog really, he had been my Grandma's before she passed two years ago. Her house had gone on the market, her stuff had been either sold or claimed by my mom and I had been the one stuck with her stupid dog. Elmo was ancient, I was sure he was almost as old as grandma would have been. At his age most other dogs were decomposing. He had 4 teeth left, snored like a launching rocket when he slept, and, being a dachshund, could only waddle very slowly because of his bad back. He was untidy, I reminded myself as I went to the kitchen to fetch a shopping bag and a paper towel, and was overweight. He could barely fit through the cat hole in my bedroom door left by the previous tenants of my apartment. I didn't hate him entirely, but he certainly wasn't the best conversationist, falling a sleep when I would rant to him about school or my family. That sounds sad but being a 'diligent' university student doesn't come with much else aside from the occasional beach visit and 2-minute-noodles as a treat, in amongst the studying. Elmo was a nuisance generally, eating what little money I made, figuratively and literally, once spending a good hour or two gnawing my wallet with his soggy, toothless mouth.

  As I crouched down towards the poop, Elmo began licking my knee. I pushed his snout away. "It's too late for apologies, you fat rascal." I grumbled as I stuck my hand into the bag, grabbed as much poop as I could, wiped the rest off the floor with the paper towel and threw everything into the bin. Elmo watched me the whole time, his tail wagging slowly as I moved around, his big, bulging eyes staring into my soul. I stood in the middle of the kitchen and stared back at him. "No remorse hey?" Dragging myself over to my couch, I flopped down onto it. The cheap fabric hugged me and I sank into the softness, letting the day melt away into the foam, almost not noticing the feint sound of claws slowly pattering down the corridor and back. I let my thoughts drift and my eyes close. As my couch embraced me, I felt calm and sleepy, and I thought I could fall asleep right there. Until a cracked bark broke the silence and I opened my eyes. "What?" I barked back, lifting my head to see Elmo with his collar and lead sitting amongst droplets of drool in front of him. I sat up, looking at the clock, and sighed. "How do you always know when it's time?" Elmo barked, and I couldn't help but smile at the excitement on his aged face. 

  I placed him onto the concrete outside the apartment's back door, and slipped his head into his collar, and my hand into the other end. "Beach time." I said, and as if a switch had been flipped, Elmo began his strange little waddle down the path, his fat belly swinging dangerously close to the ground. I walked slowly next to him, stopping every now and then to let him sniff a flower or attempt to pee on a tree next to the dirt path leading between houses. I always laughed at the sight of the little old dog trying to lift his back leg high enough to pee properly, failing, and peeing on himself instead. But he was not bothered in the slightest as he tried again three trees down the line. It took us a grand total of ten minutes to get to the actual beach, when it would take me three without Elmo, but I thought of walking like this to be almost as relaxing as sinking into my couch with a coffee and a blanket in front of the TV. I slipped off my slip slops and picked up Elmo again. I held him with two arms as I trod towards the water because of his back, and once we got to the water-hardened sand I put him back down and slipped the collar off his head. Immediately he began to sprint, at a pitiful pace, toward the waves. I sat at the edge of the harder sand and watched him as he waded around in the shallow water, disturbing the soft sound of the waves with his cracked bark. "Oi, quiet! I have a rep to uphold." I shouted to him, knowing well that he was just deaf enough to not hear me. 

  The late afternoon sun hung low in the sky, reflecting orange and pink on the ocean. I pulled my phone out and took a picture with Elmo in centre frame and the orange-pink sea in the background, smiling as I noticed I got him with one foot in the air and water splashing from his fat little paw. He wasn't all bad, I reminded myself. He was a good little dog, despite everything else. I had to remind myself that basically every afternoon when we did this. Until, after another ten minutes of frolicking, Elmo began to make his way back up towards me, but not before stopping to take another massive dump. "Elmo no! El-" I dropped my head. "I'm not mad, I'm just disappointed." I said, mimicking my mom as I pulled another plastic bag from the small bag I'd brought with. Elmo barked once he was done and waddled up to me as I headed for his poop. "Yes, you mutt," I replied, picking up the soft substance as I did so, "I am disappointed." I buried the rest with my foot and strode back to where I was sitting, not waiting for Elmo. I dropped back down onto the sand and glared at the beautiful afternoon, and Elmo waddling towards me. He finally reached me, did a slow 180, and sat next to me. I patted him on the head, maybe a little too hard in in my frustration, and turned back to the sea. Trying to calm myself, I took a deep breath. 

  "Breath! Breath! Please breath!" I screamed as I shook Elmo's motionless body. "Elmo please." His round belly rolled under my touch, his paws flopped around limply. I stood, tears forming in my eyes, stumbled for my bedroom and groped for my phone in the dark. I found it under my pillow and quickly found the nearest emergency vet, pressing the call button faster than my phone could process. As it rang I thought of the sound Elmo had made that had woken me up. A gentle whining, like he knew what was happening and wanted to say good bye. I had jumped out of bed so fast that I'd had to pause to stop myself from fainting on the spot, but once the light-headedness had gone, I was in the kitchen where Elmo slept in an instant. That was where I'd watched his eyes close and his fat little chest rise and fall for the last time. And I know I'll never forget his eyes as he closed them. They'd been on me, sad and calm, one last look of pure love. 

  I sat at the edge of the hard sand, the soft sand gently moving under the collar and lead in my fingers. Each grain moved slowly as I squeezed it, my fists shaking and the metal hook of the lead digging into my skin. I stared out at the late afternoon sun, hanging low in the sky. It's red colour sat gently in my eyes, not stinging or burning, just comforting. The ocean glittered, orange and pink reflecting off its surface, moving like a soft blanket in the wind. The clouds reflected the same orange and pink, mirroring the ocean. A gentle breeze shuffled the sand, fingering through my hair and stroking my wet cheeks. I watched the waves lap against the shore, gentle and without interruption.  

  It was so quiet without Elmo's splashes and cracked barks. Even the sea itself seemed quieter today, as if in mourning of its companion. It was like everything knew he was gone, and had come here this afternoon to comfort me and remember Elmo. I looked at the lead in my hand, blue, with most of the printed paw prints rubbed off, frayed and old. In a way, it was like Elmo; old, used, loved. I looked back over the sea, the colours so vibrant and beautiful. I don't think I'd ever noticed how breathtaking it was until now. How everything melted into everything else, creating a canvas of swirling lights and colours. But, there was an incompleteness to it. There was no little shadow prancing in the waves, splashing about and yapping like there was no tomorrow. I remembered his little waddle, the way his fat belly made a snake on the sand between his paw prints. The way the ocean and my dog seemed to play together, like two little children prancing in the shallows. His cracked bark that hung in your ears and heart in a strange, sticky way. I looked at the empty sand next to me, golden and void of a furry butt.

  I had loved that dog so much, and I'd never showed him how much. Despite his snoring, back problems, annoying bark, his strange ability to poop anywhere, I had loved that dog. I pulled out my phone, pulled up the last picture I'd taken of Elmo and held it up in front of me so the glowing horizons lined up. 

  And there he was, frolicking once again splashing through the waves, making noise and poops to his heart's content. His paws slapped the ocean waves, his ears flopped all over the place and his bark echoed across the beach. 

  "You stupid dog." I whispered, as a tear rolled down my cheek.