My disheveled little Wonder!
Its a funny story actually..
You see, i met her once on my way to the play ball down the alley with some friends. She stood there dressed in a dark dress worse for wear. Her hair disheveled and her lipstick smeared. I swear, i had not the darnest idea why i stared. Because she was not supposed to be dressed. Wild and free were their constant nest.
You see.. she wasn’t pretty, not by a long short. But the fact she stood there, dignified in her ugly got me mesmerized because she didn’t give a care about the many stares she had while she twarted the files trying to get to her hair.
You see, for a while i stood there watching her, standing by the corner and being curious why she stood there, forgotten by my friends i cross the road to ask if she wanted a beer.
Was i stupid? Maybe.. but i wanted to know why she stood there, like one lost and no one cared.
She said she wanted water and i watched her flab the bottle with her tongue as she drowned the thirst too obvious too ignore. She also said she couldn’t find her way home, she was a cast away, left to roam the streets till she can no longer go home.
So i led her by her hand, to a home i figured would be okay for her. But when we got there, there were no more beds to lay her disheveled hair but a hard floor too close to the streets.
I watched her eyes pool, i see her lips quak and i wondered what to do with the one without a name. So i decided on the only thing reasonable. i took her home, and maybe that was the silliest mistake i ever made.
Because from the moment she stepped into my house, i could never let go.
Over time, i realized something, thinking back to the first day i saw her.
She wasn’t ugly as i had thought, she had only been suffering and left to a life of torture and pain, and that i may have come at the nick of time to be her saving grace.
Because years later. she is still at my feet, loyal to a fault and looking as rebust as anyone inlove.
And whenever we take a stroll into town and we pass that spot, i never fail to point out to her the moment i made the wrong decision of my life which turned out to be the best. I found her, my best friend.
She would smile, and nudge my legs with her nose, or curl herself at my feet and i knew what she was saying ..”thank you for loving me in my ugly”. But she never realized that i was the lucky one right from the start.
Because i never knew a dog would love me as unconditionally as she did.
And she was and would always be, my disheveled little wonder!!!
They say dogs are man’s best friends. They didn’t lie.
My best friend. !!!
This was very interesting, kept my attention throughout the read.
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The Russians trained dogs during WWII to run suicide missions with mines strapped to their backs.