Critique Welcome
A short story told in dialogue:
I need to be with her when she is put down.
Of course, but let me warn you that death does not always come peacefully -- animals often convulse and empty their bowels. Would you be ready for that?
She has seen me through a lot, it's the least I can do for her.
Okay then -- we euthanize at the end of the day. Come back before 5:30 tonight.
I work second shift; is it possible to make an exception? She has always stood by me; I owe it to be with her.
One of the things we do in these cases is have the vet give her a tranquilizer. You could sit with her while it takes effect. It would make her comfortable until the end.
If that is the way it has to be I'll take time off work. So, how much is all this going to cost?
Give me a moment to calculate your bill.
(taps the keyboard)
For everything including tax, the total will be $325.50.
Ouch, do you take checks?
We prefer credit or debit card-- but a check would be fine.
(he struggles writing out the check)
Are you okay?
Sure.
Your hand is trembling. Why don't you sit down for a while?
I am not upset, it's just my hand. It's not even my dog; it's hers.
Why don't you let me run your credit card?
No, I need to do this. I was stone-cold signing my divorce papers. I signed away half the equity in the house and primary custody of the kids -- but this I can't do. I got to walk around the block.
If you leave you will have to take your dog with you.
What?
Sorry, we have too many animals abandoned here. Our policy is to collect payment when a pet is dropped off.
I need a walk.
Not without your dog.
It's not my dog.
Sit down, I have all afternoon. How long have you had her?
Seven years.
You said she was your ex-wife's dog, but it seems more like she is more your dog?
Maybe, we got her to protect my ex after our house was burglarized.
That happens a lot. We had a burglary too; kids, they trashed our place.
This was something completely different. We came home one evening to find the house dark, even though we left lamps burning. Our first guess was a power outage, yet the light above the garage door was on. We both felt something was very wrong.
I went around back to discover the dead-bolt on the kitchen door torn through the frame. Someone used a crowbar to pry it open. Inside nothing was disturbed.
Our computer was untouched, the change jar full, a brush still rested on top of my ex's jewelry box - nothing seemed different yet someone had ripped open a door to get in.
The only thing we noticed was a dresser drawer left on the bed.
We called the police. All they did was write a report, though they kept asking questions with a weird edgy indifference. They repeatedly asked what had been disturbed.
The next day while I was at worked, my ex received a call from a man identifying himself as a detective. He informed her that she could be in serious danger from a rapist who broke into people's houses to steal their clothing. He told her the guy used the clothing to excite himself then attacked the women. He then ticked off a list of clothes she knew to be hers. He went through another list of clothes she knew to be our kid's.
Then he told her that he was the rapist; that the only thing she could do to protect herself and her children was to do follow his instructions precisely.
She slammed down the phone, called the police, and had me paged off the shop floor.
The cops told us this had happened before; that nothing had come of it. They said the guy's thing was to steal clothes then threaten mothers over the phone.
I asked what we should do. One cop said get guns, her partner said get a dog. We got Josie.
Did the dog help?
Yes, but it turned out badly. Josie was a great watch-dog. Anybody who came to the house was met with the booming of her barks and claws raking at the other side of the door. Yet once inside, she was gentle as can be.
But it turned out badly?
Yeah, my ex never recovered from the fright. She wanted to move but we couldn't afford it. We both grew up in the neighborhood, our kids had friends and cousins living close-by, we couldn't leave all that. It was near to work for both of us. We just couldn't let something like that scare us away.
So what happened?
I suppose she wanted to leave so badly that she began rejecting everything about our lives, even me. A couple years went by before she filed for divorce and took the kids to live in a dive in Shakopee.
That is so sad.
Yeah, I just wish my hand would quit shaking.
You have to let go.
I have.
I meant, let go, use a credit card.
I have to do this.
Stop doing this to yourself. Look how your dog is suffering, do it for her.
No, I can't let it control me.
© Greg Schiller, 2007
Author: Greg Schiller
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Comments: 30
Though it was hard to do, I had to spare her the pain in exchange for the many memories that she left for me. I still mis her four years later and do not think I will every find another to quite replace her.
I share with your story and say thanks for sharing it with us!
Gregg, you asked for critique. These are more thoughts than critique:
I like the no dialogue tags. Moves faster and it was always clear who was talking.
Excellent opening line. Puts us right there and connected, which is the issue when starting with dialogue.
I'd tighten up the dialogue, gets a little wordy in places and seems unnatural. I think this is because of the need to give the reader the background in the dialogue. I'd experiment with cutting a lot of that out. Imagine you were overhearing this conversation. What would it be, what words would be left out? We don't give anywhere near the amount of background when we talk as we do when we write. Use words that imply the background rather than state it.
It's a good story, combining the death of the dog and the marriage is interesting.
Making the final call, writing the check for the cremation....all too painful and beyond controlling.
with having to put the dog down, I had three of them in
different times of my life. Not easy at all!
This was very good I could feel your suffering.
Assuming this is autobiographical, I share at least a small portion of the rage that is going unspoken. Causing others to feel fear is not always considered a serious crime, but look at the damage it can do? I don't know what the maximum penalty is for breaking and entering combined with felony menacing, but it probably feels inadequate to the subjects of his "prank".
What first brought me to your post was our shared need to end the life of a companion. I had to do this with my wife's cat. Knowingly causing the death of a companion, when it is in that companion's best interest for you to do so, can be a monumental act of love. My dad, who grew up on a farm, could drown cats and shoot dogs without a great deal of difficulty. Not me. Putting our cat to sleep was an experience I can't put into words. I've been trying to find the words for a couple years now, and I have yet to put it in writing.
Thank you for this. It has merit for the writing alone, and it's more than that.
As in almost all fiction, there are elements of autobiography. The part that I can claim as my own is the trembling hand trying to write out the check for the putting down a beloved dog - Josie.
I tried to be stoic for my wife, for the kids. Stoic as in doing what you have to do, not stoic as in hiding sorrow and regret. Still, I held my emotions to the extent that I did what had to be done -- yet my hand could not sign my name.
As for the torment of random innocents by a perverted burglar, that indeed did happen in a neighborhood where I lived. The guy was caught --- and spent no time in jail.
The closest I've ever come was once, when I was a boy out with my father, finding an injured Godwit on the beach.
We took it to the vet, who said there was nothing they could do. It's wing was broken and would never again fly. That meant slow starvation. We ended up taking it back to the beach and killing it with an axe. I was about ten years old and cried both there and back. All for a wild bird I'd never seen before.
As for a critique, there's little to critique here; it all been said above. You do dialogue very well. In fact I'm using some of your posts as exercises.
I've come back to say that this story both moved and disturbed me. It's powerful.
I've had to do the same thing a couple of times, with two of my loyal companions. And although I could feel your pain ,in taking your dog to the vet. I had to admire the story in it;s entirety. The reader was hung out between the very difficult visit to the vet, and the story about the pervert burglar. And then the marriage itself makes three. Excellent writing Greg, it is indeed a powerful story, as the other comments you have received ,would suggest . I have only written a few poems since I have been back, but your story has inspired me to want to write. Tanks mate, Take care.
Darcey D.
I just put down the love of my life last year, the day after my birthday. July 17th he finally gave up his fight. He saw me through cancer 3 times, then died of cancer as I held him. Didn't hurt any less knowing it was for the best. But it helps to know I will see him in heaven, that I'm sure.