As long as I could remember, I have always love animals. That was the reason why I collected over a 100 stuffed animals as a child. I loved them all, I would smother them with hugs and kisses. I even use to believe each and everyone of them were alive and you couldn’t separate some of them because they love each other, while others hated each other and must be separated. Well you know how children imagination are.
But as I grew older, I let many of my stuffed animals go because I felt it was too childish to keep them all. Also, I’ve become old enough to have a real animals to care for. For my first pet was a goldfish my parents bought for me, but sadly within a week my fish died. I cried and my parents comfort me by telling me, “goldfish don’t live that long anyways.”
Few weeks later, my parents allow me to get a hamster. Everything was going well but once again my pet died, but this time within 2 weeks. I was so upset because of the death of my hamster and feeling guilty for it. I loved my pets just like I loved my stuffies. I took care of them but they still died. I was 14 then, maybe it was my ignorance or like my family and friends told me, “the hamster could of been sick from the beginning.” After that, I knew I wouldn’t be able to handle losing another pet, so I decided not to get another one until I was older.
When I was 18, I decided to have another pet, this time a kitten. She was the cutest little thing, big golden eyes and brown fur, I named her Nutmeg. I brought her home with all the supplies. I was so excited and everything going so well. She loves being around me, she greets me at the door with her little meows and when it’s time for bed she wants to sleep beside me too. But, she also likes my stuffies that I still kept all these years, that’s on my bed. She likes to play with them by clawing and biting them but I don’t want her to. I tried to teach her not to, I even bought her own stuffy to play with.
Well, one night after work, I found one of my stuffies on the floor, I knew Nutmeg was playing with it. I was angry. I didn’t want my stuffed animals to get ruin, so to protect them from Nutmeg I put all my stuffies up high, where she couldn’t get to them. I still love my stuffies.
The next morning, I found Nutmeg dead in my room. I cried, I cried so hard. I loved Nutmeg. Later that night, I curled up on my bed, hugging my favorite stuffy as I cried myself to sleep. I felt that Nutmeg’s death was my fault. What was I doing wrong? The only animals I could love that wouldn't die are my stuffies, is what I thought.
Many years has past and I’m now 27 years old. I have a good paying job and live in a fairly large one bedroom apartment that allows pets. I have made peace with the past and decided to get a dog. This time I did my research and I got myself a 2 years old black lab name Sammy. The first day I brought him home he was so excited just like I was. I walked around my home to show Sammy around, then we got to my room and I sat on my bed as I watch Sammy explore my room by sniffing everything. He came towards me and starts sniffing my bed, then sniffed my stuffies that’s sat upon my bed. Then imminently Sammy grabs my bunny stuffy and ran out the bedroom door. I yelled at him to put it down,
“STOP! Bad Dog! It’s Not Yours! STOP!”
Practically wrestling the stuffy out of his mouth, he finally lets go, then starts barking at me as he's trying to get the stuffy out of my hand. I shouted at him to sit,
"Sit! Sammy Stop! Sit!”
Sammy calms down and sat. My heart racing, he could of torn apart my favorite stuffy. I need to protect my stuffies. So I place them all on top of my bookshelves that’s in my room. I was angry at Sammy, but it wasn’t his fault, he didn’t have a chew toy yet. The next day I got him a chew toy and he loved it. I felt bad that we got off the wrong foot but all seem well now. He plays with his toys and doesn’t bother mine but every now and then, I do see him eyeing my stuffies, that’s when I tell him, “don’t you even think about it.”
2 weeks has past and Sammy die….. Haha, joking!
Sammy alive and well and everything going great! Sammy greets me at the door, we go out for walks and we even play together. He’s like my little ball of sunshine. I love Sammy.
It’s been over a month now and tonight I got off early from work. When I got home and open the door, Sammy didn’t come and greet me like he usually does. I walked in and turned on the kitchen light and saw Sammy lying on the kitchen floor, with his back towards me. I called out to him but there was no response. My heart sank with fear as I slowly walk towards him and in front of him is a small pool of blood. I quickly kneel in front of him to inspect his wound and saw the blood was coming from gashes on his neck. I became confused and scared, then the thought of maybe someone broke into my home cross my mind. I immediately went to the cordless phone in the living room but it was dead. So I rushed to my bedroom that’s dimly lighten by the kitchen light and grabbed the phone. Then I realize one of my stuffed animals is on the floor next to the bookshelves. I put down the phone to go pick up the stuffy. It was my bunny stuffy and it had dark wet spots on the front of it. I turn on the bedroom light and saw it was blood. “Maybe, Sammy injured himself to get to this? Then walk to the kitchen and died there” I thought to myself. So I looked around and at my bookshelves for any evidence of Sammy getting injured but I found nothing. I looked out into the hallway and saw small, smeared blood drops leading to this room. I walked towards the door of my room, staring at the blood on the floor, trying to figure out what happen. Puzzled and scared. I shift my eyes to the stuffed bunny that’s in my hands, then slowly creep across my bunny’s face is a grin that’s baring sharp teeth.
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