I was never very fond of Phillip. To him, I was only a hunting device, not his best friend as I should have been. My feelings were nonexistent in his eyes. I was just a dumb dog who could easily capture small animals for him. When Phillip brought me home and decided to name me Rusty, I was enraged! I am NOT an old nail, I am a dog! I actually prefer the name Harold or Bernard. Anyway, that’s just the beginning of why Phillip deserved what would soon happen.
Phillip ALWAYS wakes me up at the crack of dawn to go on a stupid hunting outing. Doesn’t he notice how serene I am on the floor beside his bed? He would never dream of sharing the bed with me.
But, being the obedient dog I am, I trailed behind him into the old red truck. The whole way to the hunting grounds, Phillip blared this awful country music. All of the songs seemed to be about a man loving his dog. Why couldn’t Phillip catch on and follow their actions? The music was about to make me physically sick!
We finally arrived after countless excruciating songs, and I joyfully leaped into a pile of leaves. Phillip allowed me no time to play, and we quickly began to hunt. He demanded that I go catch some birds, so I pranced through the forest, the wind blowing my ears behind my head. Within minutes, I noticed a beautiful blue bird perched on a log. With no hesitation, I pounced on the bird killing it instantly! I quickly ran to Phillip, excited to show him my prize. I was filled with pride and joy.
I soon found Phillip sitting on a log, relaxing, and sipping on a Coke. I nudged his arm to get his attention. He looked down at me with an uninterested stare, and that’s when it happened. He took that bird right out of my mouth, slowly examined it, and threw it back onto the ground! How could he?! That was MY kill, and I wanted him to appreciate it.
Suddenly, a dazzling object in the corner caught my eye. His 12-gauge shot gun was resting against his leg. Now, I had been hunting with Phillip long enough to know how to shoot the gun. I noticed the safety was off, and I knew this was my chance. I crept over to the gun and stepped on the trigger, sending a bullet right through Phillip’s legs. He yelped in pain, giving me a swift slap in the face. I tried to act innocent by looking up at him with my big brown eyes. But inside, I was beaming with accomplishment! Luckily for Phillip, he had his cell phone nearby, and he quickly called for help. He was hospitalized, but from what I heard, he wasn’t in critical condition or anything. In the end, Phillip has become more aware of how he treats me, as if he knew karma could come back and shoot him in the legs again.