The Heart of a Child

“You have to be gentle, Liam,” the woman frowned at her son. “Max can’t play like he used to.” The little dog grunted as he slowly brought his worn ball back to the boy. Liam patted the dog’s head, sad that he couldn’t play with the dog like he once had. The fluffy terrier dropped his ball and sat down, breathing hard from chasing the ball down the hallway. “But he likes it,” Liam protested, noting Max’s crooked gray ears perking up as he picked up the ball. ` “I know,” his mother smiled softly. “It hurts his old bones. He’s too old to play now.”

Too old to play? That sounded horrible. Liam didn’t like that at all and instantly felt a pang of guilt for trying to play fetch with the old dog. Max had been a part of the family long before Liam had arrived. Who would want to be too old to play? Shrugging, Liam dropped the ball and stood up. “Come on buddy, let’s go to my room!” The little boy took off. Like always, Max followed, his once bouncy gait now a crooked limp. Liam burst into his room, decorated with Legos and action figures. He launched himself onto his bed, shoving the blankets back and reaching for a stuffed animal. He looked at the doorway. Max wasn’t there. The boy’s brow creased and he was about to fetch his dog when Max walked slowly around the corner. He didn’t look like he wanted to play. “Want me to read to you?” Liam asked, bouncing off his bed and selecting a book from his shelf. “Come on!” he jumped back onto the bed, patting his lap for the dog to join him. Max did, huffing as he clambered onto the bed and into the boy’s lap. Liam patted the coarse fur, realizing for the first time that Max looked sad, with gray fur replacing the brown along his muzzle. His once round little belly looked gaunt, hips protruding and ribs showing through his wiry fur. Being old didn’t seem like it was any fun. Pushing the thought aside, he opened the storybook. “Once upon a time…” From the kitchen, Liam’s mother could hear him talking to the dog. She paid little attention as she looked through a cookbook, deciding what to have for supper. After some time, she realized she couldn’t hear Liam anymore. Carefully, she stood up and walked down the hallway, peeking around the corner into Liam’s room. The boy was stretched out and Max curled tightly at his side. You’re so good to him, Max. She remembered the day they adopted Liam and introduced him to the longtime family member. Please don’t leave us yet. ~~~

A week had passed since Liam’s mom caught her son napping with Max. She bitterly remembered smiling at the scene and regretted not taking a photo. She sat in the car outside his school, waiting on him. No one was in the parking lot. It wasn’t time for school to be let out. She looked at the passenger seat, with her beloved little dog lying on the seat. Max looked up at her, his soft brown eyes betraying exhaustion. She felt her lip quiver and she reached towards him, stroking his back and feeling tears well in her eyes as her fingers ran over Max’s thin frame. A tear slipped down her cheek and she brushed it away. “I’m so sorry, Max,” she choked around the growing lump in her throat. Movement caught her eye and she saw Liam trotting towards the car, his bright orange backpack flopping over one shoulder. Liam opened the car door and tossed his backpack in. “Hi!” He smiled, climbing in and sitting in his car seat, looking down and adjusting his straps. His mother tried to smile, but she felt her lip quivering again and she ended up in a sob. “What’s wrong?” Liam looked up, alarm crossing his face. “Mom?” “It’s Max,” she murmured. “I had to get you because we have to take him to the vet. Do you remember what I told you about him?” Liam’s bright eyes faded as a frown crossed his face . He remembered. His mom explained that when dogs got too old, it wasn’t fair for them to keep suffering and the vet would make the pain go away. Despite his parents’ best attempts to hide the meaning, Liam knew what it meant. It meant Max would die. He looked at his mother’s face, her eyes puffy from crying. “He’s okay!” Liam lunged out of his car seat, clinging to the back of the passenger seat and looking at Max.

“No, he’s not,” his mother told him through tears. “He’s very sick,” she felt the corners of her mouth tug downwards as she remembered the violent seizure the dog had had that morning. She shifted the car into gear and set off for the vet. “I want to hold him when he...” Liam’s bottom lip trembled. He’d tried to hold back the tears but they were already streaming down his face. His father met them at the vet and they walked in together, his mother carrying Max. The nurses ushered them into a room quietly, saying little. The next few minutes felt like an eternity to Liam. His dad signed some papers and his mom hugged Max. His best friend looked sad and tired. He didn’t look scared or in pain. Liam stood by the wall, wringing his hands. The vet came in, wearing glasses and a long jacket. He nodded solemnly at the family and spoke quietly to Liam’s dad. Liam didn’t pay attention to what they said and just looked at Max. The little dog had been his first real friend. No one else had been there for him before he met his mom and dad and Max. Liam’s father told him to sit on the floor and the vet handed him a soft blue blanket. Liam spread it on his lap and his mother sat down beside him, passing Max into his lap. The dog looked up at Liam, his little tail thumping slowly. Liam’s lip trembled and the vet knelt beside him. I have to be strong, at least for Max, thought Liam, brushing away a tear that escaped his eye. He watched as the vet rubbed Max’s leg and pulled out a needle. He squeezed his eyes shut and let out a sob as the vet injected Max. He felt his mother’s arm around his shoulder and his father’s hand on his head. Max shifted in Liam’s lap and the little boy hugged the dog, alarmed that he would fall out of his lap. The old dog sighed, lying down and resting his head on Liam’s leg.

“You’re such a good boy, Max,” his mother said, her voice cracking as she rubbed the dog’s head and wiped her eyes. His eyelids drooped and his tail thumped the blanket softly. Liam’s dad crouched, petting Max. Liam did the same, resting his hand on the frail ribcage. Max took steady breaths, his eyes closing. The family sat in silence, all holding each other in a vain attempt to comfort each other. Liam felt Max’s breathing get shallower and shallower until it stopped altogether. Liam let out a thin wail, knowing Max was gone. The vet said nothing and quietly exited the room, leaving them alone with Max. There was no holding back the tears, he let them stream freely down his reddened cheeks, closing his eyes and trying to swallow the lump in his throat. He sobbed, putting his face in his hands when his father carefully lifted Max from him and wrapped him in the blanket. The next few moments seemed surreal, followed by the next few days. Liam came home from school to a quiet house. No little dog ran down the hallway to greet him. His bed seemed so much bigger without a sleepy Max curled up at his side. Dinnertime was quiet, without Max’s nails clicking on the floor as he patrolled for scraps.

“I’m proud of you, son,” Liam’s dad told him on the third day. “Holding Max was a very brave thing to do.” Liam glanced outside into the backyard. He could see the fresh pile of dirt where they’d buried Max. “I know what it feels like to not be loved and I never wanted Max to feel like that, even when he was scared.” His mother whimpered and he looked at her, confused. “Don’t be sad, Mom,” he told her, offering her his hand. “Do you think we could adopt an old dog from the shelter?” With a quizzical look, his father responded. “An old dog?” “Yes,” Liam smiled. “Of all the kids at my shelter, you picked me and if you hadn’t, I wouldn’t be able to love Max. I want to love a dog that feels forgotten. One like me. Someone who doesn’t have a family.”