Sassy: A Dog's Story PDF

SASSY was the best dog I ever had. Don't ask me what breed she was. Just a very mixed-up mixture. If I had to describe her, I'd say she was a small-to-medium-sized, black-and-white mutt. A chasing-the-tail kind of dog. Loyal and kind forever. She was good at sitting, rolling over and shaking hands,...

SASSY was the best dog I ever had. Don't ask me what breed she was. Just a very mixed-up mixture. If I had to describe her, I'd say she was a small-to-medium-sized, black-and-white mutt. A chasing-the-tail kind of dog. Loyal and kind forever. She was good at sitting, rolling over and shaking hands, and she could chase a ball all day long. Her only real weakness was 'stay'. She was too curious to stay anywhere for more than a minute. Dad always said that one day her disobedience would get her into trouble. I never thought the trouble would be as bad as it turned out to be ... One weekend our family went bushwalking. Mum and Dad stayed back at the camp to make a fire, and me and my sister, Maddi, went exploring with Sassy. Soon we were tossing stones off a cliff. Sassy was playing with us, gnawing at our shoelaces, being cute and super frisky. Then Maddi thought she saw a wallaby near the creek below. We climbed over a fence to get a better look. 'Stay, Sassy.' I held up my hand to make a stop sign. Very firmly I told her again, 'Stay!' We stood near the edge of the cliff. My legs went to jelly when I saw how steep it was, how far down, and all those rocks below. 'I can't see it.' Maddi shrugged. 'Must have hopped into the bush again.' Then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw Sassy, heading straight for the cliff edge. 'No!' I couldn't stop her. Over she went, tumbling and tumbling. Maddi screamed. I held her hand and squeezed it as hard as I could. We stared at Sassy's body, sprawled on a rock so far below. 'What are we going to do, Ryan?' 'She might still be alive,' I said. 'I'm going down to get her.' 'Okay.' She nodded. 'But I'm going with you.' Never in a million years would we have gone down that cliff, except for Sassy. She'd been ours since she was a pup. She'd always slept at the foot of our beds. As I struggled down the cliff face, I thought of all those nights with her. We were halfway down when I saw that Maddi was clinging to a rock, panicked, unable to go on. 'You've done enough,' I told her. 'Go back.' She looked at her bloodied hands. 'It gets steeper from now on, Maddi.' 'She's my dog too,' she said grimly. Then she pushed herself clear of the rock and continued inching downwards. I wedged myself in between two large, jagged stones and caught my breath. I could see Sassy more clearly. Her eyes were open. All the years and the memories between us were stored within those glazed, but still trusting eyes. We had to keep going. When at last we reached her, one look told us what we'd feared. She was gone, but what we'd shared with her was still alive, and always would be. She was still our Sassy. We stood there, patting her, crying. It was her roaming, restless nature that had made her special. She got killed being herself. I couldn't blame her for that. It wasn't possible to climb back up the cliff with one of us carrying Sassy. We decided to take the long way back, following the creek. But we decided our pet wasn't coming with us. We carried her a little further down to where there was a flat area away from rocky ground. Using our hands to scrape away the loose earth on top, and sticks to scratch at the clay beneath, we buried her in the bush; gum trees all around to shelter her. Maddi gently wrapped Sassy in her sweater and we said goodbye. That night Maddi slept beside Mum, and for a long time, Dad sat next to my bed. Not talking, just being there to comfort me. I knew he wouldn't leave until I was asleep, so I closed my eyes and rolled over, breathing out and in slowly, deeply. Soon he whispered, 'Goodnight'. Then the light was off. Almost as soon as he was gone, I felt a familiar weight on my legs. For a second, I was terrified. Then almost bursting with the thought that maybe ... I flicked the light back on---and saw Sassy. She rolled herself into a ball at the end of my bed. No scars on her body. Her eyes peeping up at me, clear and sparkling. I didn't dare try to touch her in case she vanished. It was a dream; it had to be; but it was the best feeling I'd ever had, and I didn't care if it was a dream or my imagination. Sassy had come back. That's all that mattered. I slept so peacefully that night. In the morning there was no sign of her. Not even a hair on the bed or a trace of warmth from her body. All was gone, but for the knowledge now locked in my heart, that even in death, Sassy was all right. Eagerly I told Maddi about the dream---about how real it had seemed. I thought it would make her happy. 'I'm not a baby, Ryan.' She glared at me. 'You don't have to make up silly stories to make me feel better.' 'But you don't understand, Maddi. It was more than a dream. I can't explain it, but I really think Sassy was there last night.' 'Please stop.' She shook her head. 'You're only making it worse.' I wished so much that Maddi could have seen her as well. But though I waited for Sassy each night, and even called her name aloud, she didn't return. It was two weeks later that I overheard Mum and Dad in the kitchen, discussing Maddi. 'Even her grades at school are suffering.' Mum's shoulders rose and fell as she sighed. 'It's all because of Sassy. She can't seem to get over losing her.' Dad rubbed his chin thoughtfully. 'What about if we buy her another dog?' 'No, she's not ready. I don't know if she ever will be. Sassy's all she can think of right now.' Mum was right. Nothing would ever replace Sassy for Maddi. And I couldn't say anything that would make her feel better. Then, on the first day of the school holidays, Mum and Dad came to us with exciting news. Dad spoke first: 'We're going on a trip up north. Fishing, bushwalking, camping. And we're leaving today. Get packed!' 'I think we all need a good break.' Mum crouched next to Maddi. 'It will be nice to do some fun things together. I might even see your smile again, sweetie. It's been hiding for a long time.' Maddi hugged Mum. But Maddi couldn't bring herself to smile. It only took a couple of hours to get ready, but by that time the sky had grown dark. It looked like we were in for a storm. 'Maybe we should wait until tomorrow.' Mum looked at the gathering cloud mass. 'It might be safer.' Dad rattled the car keys impatiently. 'No way. Let's hit the road!' Maddi, as always, sat in the front next to Dad. She always got carsick if she was in the back. It wasn't long before she'd fallen asleep. Mum and I were wide awake, a blanket wrapped around us. We'd been driving for two hours and had reached the expressway. A fog was rolling in, but Dad hardly slowed down. Mum tapped his shoulder. 'Not so fast, Sam. It's dangerous.' 'No, it's not, Khrissy. I can see perfectly well.' Suddenly Maddi shrieked, 'Watch out!' She grabbed the steering wheel, wrenching it hard to the left and forcing our car off the road. We skidded on loose gravel, brakes squealing, Dad yelling. In the same instant a semitrailer veered across onto the wrong side of the expressway, before straightening up again. The driver stopped the truck and raced back to us. 'Is everyone okay?' he asked. 'We're fine,' Dad told him. 'But you almost killed us!' 'I know. It was so close. I shut my eyes just for a second and I must have dozed off. I didn't take a break when I should have. It's never happened before. I'm so sorry!' Mum asked Maddi what had made her take hold of the steering wheel. 'Sassy,' she muttered. 'I saw Sassy. She was on the road, right in front of us.' For the first time in ages, Maddi smiled. Mum and Dad said she'd probably been dreaming about Sassy, the same as I'd been when I saw her. It didn't matter how or why it had happened; all we knew for sure was that our Sassy had come back again, and this time she'd saved us all. Not long after that, Maddi and I went back to Sassy's grave. It was just the way we'd left it. Only one thing was different. One thing I'll never forget. Paw prints. Little doggy paw prints all around the grave. They had to be from another dog ... didn't they?