I had a Labrador named Mickey. He had grown big and shed a lot of hair, and since we didn’t have the means to properly take care of him, we had to move him to our grandma’s home.
Mickey loved the farm; he was free there, unlike being confined to a front yard. He had several cows and hens to keep him company, just as any Labrador Retriever would enjoy. After leaving him, it was time for us to take our leave. I couldn’t bear to see my dog sad without us after all those years together. I closed my eyes when we started the car. I heard a faint sound of barking—it was Mickey, chasing after us. He ran after us for about 2 kilometers before finally giving up and returning to the farm.
These days, when I come across the achievements and the widening boundaries of my friends, a thought crosses my mind: they are in the car, and this time, I am in the shoes of Mickey, chasing after them, fearing that they might leave me behind for good. But perhaps they will also continue to stay in touch with me, just as I continued to visit Mickey twice a year until the end of his life.
Comments