Runt of the Litter

You squealed with six-year old delight as I wriggled from Hilda’s belly. I was a runt, the first of five pups who, with our eyes closed, all squirmed for lunch at the same. You screamed with horror as Hilda shoved me away, stepping on my tiny Dachshund tail and breaking it. You saved me, nursing me with love and feeding me warm milk laced with Karo syrup. I nestled in your doll’s blanket safe and out of harm’s way knowing you’d always be by my side. After 14 days I miraculously opened my eyes. You named me Fritz, a name I rather liked because it means ‘peaceful ruler’ in German. We grew up together often sitting together on the back porch where I showered you with Doxie kisses. You indulged me with cookies and snacks from your school knapsack while petting my elongated belly and back. You nurtured my German heritage, sometimes satisfying my love for sauerkraut and German lager beer. You taught me German and introduced me to Frieda, the beautiful female Dachshund who lived down the street. Wunderbar! "Ich liebe sie!" You understood my German ‘wanderlust,’ always finding me but never scolding me when I ventured too far from home. You confided in me, sharing your deepest thoughts and secrets, occasionally seeking my advice. Unfortunately I didn’t speak your teenage language. I did my best, though, Listening intently, tilting my head side-to-side, looking at you with my encouraging eyes, wagging my tail, and barking hoping you’d understand. For 12 years I peacefully ruled your life, or rather you ruled mine. When I became old and ill, my days numbered, you stayed by my side like I knew you would. I miss you and am waiting for you--on the other side. Written June 4, 2022 Personification Contest Entry Contest Sponsored by Constance La France