Diehard

DIEHARD British Columbia outside St George, we were twelve years old. Two boys and Jamie’s black Scottish Terrier shooting squirrels In the forest up Douglas Mountain one summer’s day. Stumbled across a wolverine which immediately advanced on us. We knew better than to run, so Jamie tried to load up his shotgun, But it somehow jammed and the wolverine was on him in a flash - His coat ripped and the teeth about to gash his arms - When in came Scottie, without hesitation or a moment’s reflection - Determination seized his frame - he leapt - Absolute and only purpose - defending his boy. The whole purpose of his dog-life was before him now: He was no match for the wolverine, but it was unimportant to him. The wolverine was distracted enough so Jamie could load the gun, But in the few seconds before he shot the snarling fiend, The life of Scottie was spilled over the roots of the fir trees. The small black dog closed his eyes and his life ended. Our hero died with absolutely no regrets at all. He had done what he knew he had to do, willingly, happily. Few would be the friends in one’s lifetime To behave as selflessly for another in need. . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Written by Sydney Peck Entered in Frank Herrera's Contest 'A SUMMER MEMORY'