Rising From The Ashes

34- EXTRA: It's His Time

the one where the dog dies

    "Okay, serious question." Uncle Tony looks up from his phone. He stands behind me as I clean up the kitchen from our previous meal.

"Shoot." Tones winces from his word choice.

"It's been three years since the war. Do you plan on moving on? Hanging up the suit?" I finally turn around, leaning against the counter.

    Just as Tony opens his mouth, the spitball crawls into the room.

    "Pickle, whatcha doing up? T, I thought Papa laid her down for a nap?" I pick up the 7 month baby, Morgan.

    "He was supposed to." Uncle Tones grumbles, stealing Morgan away from me to get her in bed and most likely scold my father.

    I move to the living room, crouching down besides Maverick's bed. The seven year old dog pants heavily on his comfy bed.

    Rubbing the top of his head, I sit down beside my dog.

     Maverick was diagnosed with brain cancer 2 months ago, the disease spreading quickly. It's gotten worse the past couple weeks. I'm afraid it's getting close to his time.

    "I know, bud. You've had a great go, haven't you?" I stroke all the way down to his legs. Mav looks up at me, his orbs staring deeply into mine.

   They've always been so captivating.

   He moves his head to lay on my leg. A deep sigh leaves his body, a soft whine following right after.

    Moving my hand to his ear, I give it a good rub. "Alright." A tear trails down my face. I wipe it vigorously, removing any traces of it being there.

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    The next morning me and my father took Maverick for a long car ride, feeding him his favorite meal.

    "Take it easy, take it easy." I sing along with Bucky.

    Mav sits in the back, his head happily hanging out of the window.

    Papa turns his head to look at me, smiling. He cut his hair again, this time making it even shorter.

    I call Maverick into my lap, letting the giant dog cram in the seat with me.

    The car ride continues for 15 more minutes until we reach our destination.

    Another car is parked in the parking lot, but it's just that one.

    We are at a park, a peaceful forest surrounding us. Uncle T had called in a vet and arranged a special place for Maverick to be put down.

That's such a strong saying; put down. It's like twisting the ways of life to fit a need. A menace. But it's for his own good.

The vet leans against her car, a bag resting at her side.

I open my door, carefully taking Maverick out. Mav takes in the atmosphere, a smile apparent on the dog's face somehow.

He stands up, slowly walking around the woods, his limp gained from his condition apparent.

We let Maverick walk around and enjoy his last moments for an hour before we bring him to a blanket we set out for him.

I take off his collar-chain around his neck, laying his head in my lap.

"Are you ready?" The experienced veterinarian asks, the needle in her hand.

Bucky pets Maverick, laying on the other side of him.

I nod hesitantly. Whispering "good boys" in his ear, I kiss the top of Maverick's head.

He yips quietly, as if he is trying to comfort us.

"You are a good boy Mav. You did good."

With that being said, the dog's eyes close peacefully.

Birds chirp in the background, the trees rustling in the wind.

The day ends quietly and a weight is lifted off my shoulders. He's in a better place.

Author's Note: I threw this one up and I'm sorry for the low quality. I realized I never really included Maverick in the war or after it so here's his ending.
- J.S.

5.19.2021
644 words