Trauma

Broken body, broken soul

Dog POV

A brown-black dog lay on the cold stone floor of a cannel, the breed couldn't be clearly determined for it was too dark in the corner where it rested. Hidden from the unaware people passing by, taking the kennel for being empty. The dog was not moving for there was nothing left in his life that it was worth moving for. His once gleaming hazel eyes were dead, there was no happiness left in them, one of it was of a milky colour. It was his right eyes. It didn't work anymore. He didn't mind it. There was no need for working eyes here. There was no need for anything here. HE didn't want anything. He didn't even want his life anymore.

The dog was shockingly thin, one could count his rips. He had been a happy, strong, healthy and energetic dog once. His muscles were lost, he was a mere shadow of what he had been before. He was starving. This was due to the fact that he refused food. It wasn't that he wasn't hungry. He was. Really hungry. But he lacked appetite and the energy to get up and eat. The food didn't taste good for him anymore anyway. He didn't want it. The smell made him feel sick to the core.

He looked so old and sick but he wasn't either at all. He had been through roughly four years of life. At least his body. No age for a dog.

His mind had been through a lot more than it was appropriate for his age. More than it was appropriate for any age. It had been through several lifetimes. And more. The things he had seen, the things he had done and the things he had lost. First his mother, then his innocence, his right eye, a piece of his ear, a great part of his tail, then his companion and with him his will to live. Now he was stuck here, talked to by people who wanted him to get up and live but there was no life left in him. Nothing that could be enjoyed.

Whenever they came to take him for a walk he backed away into a corner of his little kennel, hissing at them, warning them to stay as far away from him as possible if they valued their lives at all. There was only one person he would willingly follow out of here. But this person was gone. They would never come back. He had accepted that. They hadn't. They were determined to make him walk. To make him live. At first they had tried. They really had. Someone turned up in front of his kennel every day. They sat down and talked to him and tried to make him come close but he hadn't done that. He'd refused any kind of interaction, any kind of help. He couldn't be helped. He didn't want to be helped.

They had given up eventually. They weren't foolish after all. And it seemed that they valued their hands a bit too much to risk touching him.

So he hadn't been touched. They brought him food everyday and they took it away again, the bowl untouched, their eyes full of pity and worry. The dog didn't care. He came here to die. He didn't want to ever leave this cannel alive.

He became a ghost. A mere shadow, ignored by all. His existence was no longer important to anyone. He didn't mind. He didn't mind at all.

There also were times when he was not a ghost at all. When he was loud and well heard. That was whenever he heard something he couldn't stand. He exploded into panicky, angry, aggressive barking, his ears pressed against his head, going berserk in his kennel. He injured himself when he did this. He lost fur when it got caught in the bars of the kennel. He scratched his paws open on the raw, hard concrete floor. He broke a tooth when he snapped at the bars. And there were many noises he couldn't stand. They seemed to get more and more as the days passed by.

It had been just one and a half weeks since he had been brought to this place. Not that he was aware of it. A dog doesn't really care about time and this one in particular did even care less than not at all. There was nothing he did but to lie on the floor, occasionally drinking something, doing what had to be done and staring out of the kennel again. There was no time for him at all. Everything was a blur of suffering and waiting for death to finally come and take him. Today, however, something happened. Something different.