Poochie’s Death

March 12, 2008
By
I really wanted to get to know Poochie, but it was too late. This is what happened on August 31st, 2005. It was a Saturday morning, one of those Saturday where you just relaxed, with a cup of coffee by your side and a newspaper in your hands. But I wasn’t that kind of person who does that.

I was tired and you could still see the sleep in my eyes. I went to the living room and saw my brother sound asleep on the sofa. That had told me he had watched T.V. last night and then slowly drifted off to dreamland.












I shifted my body to Poochie’s cage. That was strange, he usually chirped his heart out every morning. “He must be sleeping”, I thought. I lifted the blue blanket that kept him quiet every night, so that we could go to bed.











“Huuuhhh”. I looked in the cage and Poochie was lying on his back. His eyes were closed and his legs in the air. He looked like he was playing dead. I opened the cage and held him in the palm of my hands.

I felt really sad and confused. I looked at him again and touched his smooth, white, feathery wings. I woke my brother and my dad so they’d know what happened. My mom and my other 2 brothers were sleeping peacefully.

Dad took Poochie and we went to the garden. I digged a little hole just enough to fit Poochie’s small body. Poochie was wrapped in a small cardboard box and some tissues around it.





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