A Child's Tale
We were busy working in the fields as Jack roamed the area as his kind usually did. Then, all of a sudden, a gun shot rang out and we heard the cry of our dog as he managed to return to us. Returning to the arms of those who loved him, Jack quickly succumbed to his deadly wound. This was more than 50 years ago; but my eyes are drawing water as I write. A wealthy farmer shot and killed my dog for walking across his cotton field. When I was a boy, I never heard of animal rights or of anyone making a fuss about cruelty to animals. So my dog Jack was shot and nothing was ever done about it. His days of loving and being loved were over, and no longer was he seen on the back of daddy's light blue Chevy pickup. We buried him under a big tree in our front yard.
Daddy once built a big swing set for his children and all the kids in the neighborhood. It was a source of real joy until a neighbor accidentally ran into it and knocked it down. That swing meant the world to us. We didn't have a lot of things; but we found other ways to create our own fun.
There was a night club not far from where we lived, and teenagers were not allowed, or at least, good parents did not allow their kids to go there. So daddy decided to open a teenage place just for the youth. It was great!
That child with a dog name Jack and a dad who cared, learned early on that a heart filled with hate will never enter the pearly gates. He refused to allow his loss to spring a leak and allow anything less than love to capture his heart.
10122017 PS Contest, What Child Is This, Craig Cornish
Copyright © curtis johnson | Year Posted 2017