#nana56b
Lines from the story
My girlfriend's older brother took his own
life when he was just a high school student.
After that, both her parents and she fell
into depression and were in terrible shape.
Around that time, a dog came to live with her
family.
Then, I guess you could call it pet therapy.
As they spent time with the dog, everyone
gradually got better, and they started
laughing together as a family again.
Both she and her parents credited the dog for
this, and they absolutely adored him.
They took him on trips with them; he was
truly like family.
She'd even cut dates short to go home when it
was time to walk the dog.
He was just an ordinary mutt,
but she always said,
“He's special to us.”
The dog was already elderly, so he'd been
weakening lately.
The vet said it was too late even if they took
it in, so they brought it home.
They wanted it to spend its final moments with
us...
Then, apparently, its breathing started
becoming irregular yesterday morning. She took
the day off work and stayed by its side the
whole time.
I'm not particularly fond of dogs myself, and
honestly, I didn't care much either way. But
I was worried about her, so I stopped by after
work.
It was already dark, but the moon was bright.
She'd spread a blanket under the kumquat tree
beside the doghouse and was sitting there
holding the dog.
It was cool in the shade of the tree, the
dog's favorite spot where it always slept.
The dog couldn't move anymore. Even when she
tried to feed it water with a spoon, it
couldn't drink.
As time passed, its breathing grew shallower
and shallower.
She was stroking the dog, tears streaming
down her face.
Her parents stood beside her, their eyes
teary too.
Then the dog's breathing finally stopped.
That's when she cried out, “Yuji!”
By the way, Yuji was the dog's name,
and it was also the name of her deceased
older brother.
Meaning, she had named the dog after her
late brother.
At that moment, she wasn't just crying—she
was sobbing with a voice that sounded like
a scream.
It was a way of crying you wouldn't expect
from someone over twenty.
It was completely different from when she
cried after we broke up, so I stood there
stunned for a while. Then I hugged her, dog
and all.
Even then, she wouldn't stop crying. She was
wailing so loudly out in the yard that
the neighbors came out, high school kids on
bikes stopped,
and passersby bowed their heads.
Before I knew it, I found myself crying too.
Even though I hated that dog—it barked like
crazy every time I came over. I dug a hole
under the kumquat tree to bury the dog.
I'd never owned an animal before, so I didn't
know how to handle dogs. I never even petted it.
The first time I ever stroked him, it was his
stiff body that no longer barked.
I thought, if she ever said she wanted …
