Wolf?

Plastic black beaded eyes that have dutifully watched me through my childhood, that have caressed me in my moments and told me everything would be fine, eyes that did not lie to me. Honest eyes. Eyes I was able to read and understand. Sleek with grey and white fluff that I stroked absentmindedly that now it can never stay down for long. A small adorable face that accompanied me through many a dark night.

He sits at my desk, reminding me of my beautiful silly childhood days. Going to Vivo City and falling in love with him at first sight. Begging my mum to buy him although I had many others waiting at home for me to choose. But I insisted, I was more sure of myself then, that he was the right one. With the colorful W marked on his right hind leg, I whispered loudly to my mum that he must have been shipped for me, because the W stood for Warrior. I was so certain. Now, not so much. W could have stood for so many other things, like the brand company that manufactured him, or ‘wolf’. I could never decide if he was a wolf or a husky. I still don’t know. I’ve just decided to leave that mystery.

I scratched his poor face against my neighbor’s green fence, leaving a part of it on his face in my excitement. Tears were ready to roll down my face, but my clever mother told me instead that it was his first battle scar, and something important to remember. I still remember. But he does not. His scar is gone, along with my neighbor’s green fence.

Of course, I don’t think he talks to me, moves in secret, or thinks of our devious plans together. In fact, he has no brain at all. Sorry Dan din. Maybe for the fact that I don’t know what you are, how to spell your name, or maybe just because you live in a time I cannot go back to.