The sun was a strangely blue color on the oddly cold summer day. It sat just barely west of being in the center of the sky. There was no breeze, and no clouds, only the blue sun, and the chilly air.
A dog came into view as He sat at his desk, watching out his bedroom window. It had the body and shape of a German Shephard, but other characteristics of another breed. Perhaps a Beagle? A Blood Hound? Maybe Basset? Though the breeds named tend to have darker coloring, the dog seemed to have an almost pure white coat, only one patch of differing fur across its back. The patch was in a shape as if a saddle had been placed before a snowstorm, and removed thereafter. The marking was a brown tone. It had a red nose and white eyes.
As he watched the dog walk over to a tree, hike its leg to do its business, then continue on, his breathing faltered. An alarm began to go off as his eyes rolled to the back of his head. He began to seize, causing his oxygen tank to fall over, ripping the line from his face as the tube joints separated.
The shaking of his body and his inability to keep his balance cause him to fall out of his chair. As he fell, the corner of his bed frame struck him at the base of his head. His shaking stopped. His eyes slowly rolled back to the front of his head as the room fell silent of everything but the monotonous tone of the alarm, sounding at a high-pitched frequency.
Soon the sound subsided as the power in the house shut off. Yet all at once, the power came on, the alarm began going off and......
The dog walked into his room. It laid down next to him, resting Its head on its paws, and closed its eyes. Its breathing slowed, then stopped in all.
He gasped for air and jolted up right into a sitting position. He looked at the dog beside him, the chair he was no longer in, his oxygen tank and tubes, and out the window to the blue sun in the sky. He took a deep breath, let it out, then softly gasped as he realized he was breathing without his oxygen tank. He also noticed his head had blood on it, but couldn't find an injury. He looked down at the dog beside him and laid a hand on its back, still warm, but stiff and without life.
He realized what had happened, and a tear slipped down his cheek.
YOU ARE READING
The White Dog With The Brown Patch: Story One
Short StoryTW: this short story has fatal seizing. you've been warned. Note: the italicized words are not for emphasis, only to make to story more mysterious rather than having names. To summarize this would give away too many details because it's quite short.
