the breath Chris Bowers

the breath

chris bowers

He breathes in.

A sharp, quick breath, taking in whatever air he can manage. He seems pleased with himself as if he had just managed to climb a mountain. But I know it won’t last. I watch as he holds it for a moment, a small struggle, and then he lets it go. The air escapes from his lungs, slowly, but surely. It sounds laboured. A slight whistle. I look into his eyes, and he into mine. He seems tired - so very tired. I gently rest my hand on his head as he takes another breath. Shorter again.

We were younger once. So full of energy. Our whole lives were still ahead of us. I remember all those walks through the park. We’d sit on the bench and watch the people go by. So many people. I’d bring a ball, and we’d play catch for hours. You never wanted to stop! How I wish we could be there again.

I smile.

Memories. So many dinners with just the two of us. We simply enjoyed each other’s company. We’d watch TV, play games, or just sit in quiet silence. There was no expectation. No judgement. I never told you how much I loved that about you. And the nights - the restless, sleepless nights, you’d always cuddle up to me as if to tell me it’s going to be ok. Your snoring drove me nuts! But having you there beside me was always a comfort. I never complained. Why would I?

We’re not as young as we used to be, you and me. And now, I can’t help but notice how much older you suddenly seem. How gray you’d gotten. It never bothered me. But when I look in the mirror, I realize I haven’t changed much at all. How unfair that I’m sitting here while you lie there.

A sudden cry. I shift in my seat.

“Shhh! It’s going be ok!” I whisper gently.

He breathes out.

I look at the doctor, and she shakes her head. I freeze for a moment. There’s no turning back, but I know what I have to do. What I need to do. I give her a slight nod and look back down as she starts preparing.

His breaths are slowing down now. His eyes begin to get heavy. I start humming a tune for him; I have no idea which one, but I carry on with it anyway. He makes eye contact again for a short second before his eyes finally close. His chest takes one last triumphant breath, then slowly falls, coming to a peaceful rest. His tail, always so loud and lively, now sits quietly still. His paw, held in my other hand, gently curled as if to give one last shake. I give him one final hug.

Silence.

Tears run down my cheeks, and I smile again.

We have a bond that will last forever. An attachment that cannot be easily explained. We helped each other grow. You saw me through some of the best and worst parts of my life. I will carry you for the rest of my days, the same way you carried me for yours. As long as I don’t forget, you’re never truly gone.

“You’re a good boy!” I whisper again. “Thank you for choosing me.”