Rex

Rex was our overgrown Alsatian. When we took him into our house, he was a small pup. We never expected him to grow as large as he did. He was larger than me fully grown, which just took a year, his fur a thick black and brown. He was unwieldy, and we never bothered to train him properly. He was overly friendly and excitable, and his face always had a puppyish, innocent charm, believing that the world would never quite hurt you and that everyone wanted to play with you. However, his massiveness scared us. We would only go out when he was chained, and numerous times he would pursue us around the garden. When he leaned against the dining room gate, eyeing us as we ate, hoping for a bone to take away, one could see how he was still, essentially, a pup trapped in the body of a dog. Big as he was, he was afraid of thunder and lightning, howling to come in when rain descended, hoping to hide under a couch or sofa, as he had done so when he was a pup.

One day I was caught out in the garden. We were racing to the gate, trying to get out before Rex discovered us. But my older brother had locked it up. I shouted at my brother to open the door, but he kept it closed firm. Out zoomed Rex, alerted by my cries. He saw me at the gate and in his usual friendliness, jumped on me. I went down like I had been rugby tackled. Soon Rex was on me, licking and pawing. I was panicking, and probably screaming. But I couldn’t see he was just being playful and grew more afraid. Soon my grandmother, she who had been bitten by dogs so many times I couldn’t count, who fearlessly burnt down wasps’ nests and beat snakes to death, pulled Rex off me, hitting him fiercely. He didn’t understand why he was being punished. I rolled away, tears in my eyes.

About two years later, Rex died after being poisoned by thieves that broke into our house. He lied dead in the gutter, froth in his mouth. He had never grown to be obedient, or tone down his exuberance, but I still remember his staring through the metal grills of the doors, devotion and curiosity evident in the slow wag of his tail.