That traumatic moment when I was eight and came home from school and saw my dog bleeding to death. she was stabbed by a drunk bystander.
She wiggled her tail and tried to raise her right hind leg when she saw me, I kneeled before her and scratched her belly. It's our everyday routine.
I scratched her blooded belly avoiding her stab wound while wiping my stubborn tears with my other hand until I realized that she was gone.
I never had a dog eversince.
Her name was Apollo, I'm into rockets than mythology I guess. She looked like a Pembroke Welsh Corgi.
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