Today was one of those days where the sun felt warm, but my heart didnât. I stretched out on the patio couch, belly up, legs in the air like Bolt used to do when he wanted belly rubs and mischief. I miss him. I miss him so much.
Bolt was my best buddy. He was wild and fast and always getting into something. He wouldâve loved Bellatrixâsheâs got that same spark, that same âletâs make trouble and call it funâ kind of energy. They wouldâve been unstoppable. But Bolt⌠he never came home after that one time.
I remember it. I really remember it. The neighbor was yelling again, throwing sticks at the fence like it was a game of war. Bolt barked back, tail wagging, thinking it was playtime. Then the neighborâs dog joined in, barking like it was a chorus. Bolt couldnât resistâhe hopped the fence, like he always did when he wanted to say hi or chase a squirrel. But this time, Dad said the neighbor told the police that Bolt attacked him and his dog.
Dad was so quiet after that. I heard him tell Mom that the police said Bolt had to be âput down.â That it was his last straw. I donât know what that means. âPut downâ sounds like when Dad sets his coffee mug on the table. But this felt different. Bellatrix said itâs like when the fish got flushedâonly they call it âputting them to sleep.â That sounds peaceful, but also⌠forever.
I donât want to believe itâs forever.
I still growl when I see that neighbor and his dog walk by. I donât care if Dad tells me to hush. I know what I saw. The neighbor was yelling, swearing, throwing things. Bolt thought it was a game. He always thought people were playing. Dad got it all on camera, I heard him say so. So why did Bolt have to go?
Sometimes I dream that Bolt is just asleep somewhere. Maybe in a field with endless squirrels and no fences. Maybe heâs waiting for me. Maybe one day Iâll hop the fence too, and find him.
Until then, Iâll keep lying here, belly up, just like he used to. And Iâll keep remembering.
Love,
Willow