« What can I write about ? », I wondered
I was in my room, in front of my computer, and I really wanted to write. What? I still had no idea. No story to write, nothing at all, but I definitely wanted to write. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t find any idea. I decided to have a break and go downstairs to find something to eat.
I turned off my computer and went downstairs, running as always. I came in the living room. My older brother was watching T.V., but I didn’t pay attention to what he was watching. I was more focused on trying to guess what I could find in the cookies wardrobe. When I opened it, I didn’t have much choice: there was only one box of cookies. I took one from it. then I continued walking, not really thinking about where to go.
Then I came across my father, and he stopped me.
“I wanted to talk to you about something” he said.
At that moment, I heard a faint noise. It looked a bit like a bark, but not very loud.
“Wait.” I told him, and stopped him from talking any further with a gesture of my hand.
I listened intently.
“Do you hear it? Isn’t it the dog? The barks are a bit alike, but not very strong. and it sounds panicked!” I told him, afraid.
I went out, and so did he, and we tried to guess where the sound came from. As I moved, I heard it a bit stronger, until I came near the edge of the garden, where my dogs often dig holes.
“The noise comes from there. She must be down there!”
“I’ll go find a light!” I told him.
I ran in the house, as quickly as possible, and, while going upstairs to find my light, I told my brother that our dog was in a hole in the ground.
When I finally found a light, I came out, still as quickly as possible. I went in the garden. My brother was already there with my father.
“How deep is she?” I asked.
“No idea, I have no light” my brother answered.
“Let me have a look then” I told him, nearing the hole.
The hole wasn’t straight down. It went like a staircase. I tried to get in and see my dog. It was deeper than a meter, and she was screaming. At least she had some air. But we had to get her out of there as quickly as possible.
“We’ve got to find a shovel and dig to make the hole wider” I told them.
We all looked everywhere, but we could only find one shovel, and a small one.
“I’m digging, and you put the earth out of it right?” my brother asked me.
“All right” I answered.
“What do I do?” asked my father.
“There is no room for more than two,” Answered my brother
For the next twenty minutes or so he dug, and I took the earth out of the hole with my hands, while our dog was still screaming. I began having some difficulties taking the earth out. I got tired, but I knew I couldn’t stop, otherwise, if we stopped for resting, my dog might suffocate even more and die.
Every now and then we said her name so that she felt we were there for her. Then, we decided to try and reached out for her paws to pull her out. My brother tried first, but quickly asked that I pull him out.
“I don’t feel good down there.”
“It’s all right, let me try. I’m thin enough and strong enough. Hold me by the ankles.” I told him.
I went it, arms first, and tried to reach my dog. I could, but when I tried to pull her, she screamed even more, and I didn’t want to make her suffer. I asked to be pulled up again and my brother told me:
“We don’t have a choice. It’s the only way for us to take her out. You’ve got to do it, even if you hurt her. It’s still better than letting her die.”
He was right, I had to do it.
I went down again and tried to drag her out, but I had barely dragged her thirty centimeters or so that the passage was too narrow (she was a bit too big) and I saw it would be difficult for her to get through. I let her go and saw that she tried to go even deeper in the ground. She was at least at a meter and a half deep, and I would have to be buried up to my legs to reach her. I again asked to be dragged, and told my brother:
“We’ve got to make it wider.” He said.
So we continued a bit more, and after a couple of minutes I tried again and went in.
As I reached her, I felt the earth in my mouth and even had difficulties breathing. I took her legs and asked to be pulled up.
As my brother dragged me, I heard my dog scream even louder, but we couldn’t stop. Then, after dragging her through the narrow passage that we had widened, we could take her out completely.
A burst of joy engulfed us as we saw her out and breathing, moving her tail, happy. We had just saved her life.
“Don’t you dare doing that EVER again” I told my dog, stroking her. “What a silly idea! You were at least a meter and a half deep!” I added.
I turned to face my brother.
“She dug more or less two meters deep!”
“Yes, there was only your legs to be seen, which is saying something, knowing that you’re a bit more than a meter and eighty centimeters tall!”
I went in the house and looked at myself in the mirror. I was covered in earth and had scars and blood a bit everywhere, because of the branches we had cut just above the earth to free the way. I went out again, as my brother was putting things in the hole to prevent my dog from digging again.
I then went to see my dog. I wasn’t fond of her, always stinking and never doing what she was told, but I couldn’t help being so happy for saving her life.
“Do never try such a silly thing again’, I told her, stroking her, and looking her straight in her dark eyes, as she was moving her tail.