Dog Days

I woke up and felt like I was on fire. I could feel slow methodical breathing next to me. I forgot how much hotter your bed could be with extra body heat. Sensing I was awake, I could feel them stir next to me and before I knew it a wet tongue was licking my face. My dog’s tail thumped hard against the bed. He stood up, and without any regard for his own size or body weight stepped right on me, wagging his tail furiously.

‘Agh!’ I yelled as his paw dug into my stomach. I laughed. ‘Okay, okay.’ I turned my head from his eager face. I hate when dogs lick you on the face. But I love my dog, and you can’t exactly get angry with a dog for trying to be friendly. Without realising it he had pinned me to my bed, him being a larger breed, and me being only slightly bigger than he. I looked at him, raised my eyebrows and blinked. ‘Are you going to let me get up?’ I asked. I don’t’ know why I talk to my dog. He looked at me, smiling and dribbling like an idiot. ‘Walk!’ I said, communicating with one of the three words he could understand. His body convulsed and it was as if his tail was wagging his head, as it rapidly went side to side, sending a rippling effect through his torso. ‘C’mon! Walk!’ I said, as he had not received the hint that we could not walk anywhere whilst I was trapped under his massive paw. Making a move to jump towards the door he thrust all of his body weight onto said paw, and into what I believe to be my liver, before bounding towards the door. His attention was now on the doorknob, which he started at, only occasionally glancing at me to give me jealous glares because I have opposable thumbs.

I threw my duvet to the side and got up to let him out. As soon as I cracked the door open he began squeezing through it, nose first. ‘Alright, alright. Calm down, mate.’ He made a noise to voice his displeasure that our doors weren’t automatic sliding ones which would make his prompt escape more convenient. He had wiggled his was out and bounded into the hallway. I turned around to grab some trainers as the sound of nails on hardwood faded away and then quickly got much louder. I turned and he was standing in the doorway, smiling and waving his tail. ‘I’m coming. Just give me a second. Good lord you’re impatient.’ He understood none of this, and barked at me. I finished double knotting my Converse because they somehow make shoelaces which refuse to stay put. The last thing I need in life is more obstacles to keep me from standing and not eating pavement.

Jumping up off the bed, the dog – which I shall give a human name I’ve decided, Alexander Von Banterquith, a name I personally think we should have gone with in the first place instead of the stupid name he has, but Alex for short here – imitated my movement and very ungracefully jumped as well. We ran down the hallway to the front door and I grabbed the doorknob, pausing for a moment. Alex paused, staring intently at the doorframe. ‘Gah!’ I yelled as I opened it, trying to rile him up as much as possible. He ran and barked into oblivion (well into the street, which sounds like an irresponsible thing to do as a dog owner, but no one drove down our street). I grabbed his lead and walked out the door.

It was only when I saw an old friend walking towards me that I became very aware that I was still wearing my pyjamas. In public. Alex ran to them and greeted them excitedly.

‘Hey, mate.’ My friend said, petting the dog. I had gone to school growing up with this boy and he was one of those people you can’t remember not knowing, but whom I don’t know particularly well. ‘Hey!’ He said as I approached in my inappropriate combination of hoodie, men’s boxer shorts, and Converse.

‘Hi!’ I said, hoping my enthusiasm would distract from my outfit and not come off as a mental illness.

‘How’s Oxbridge?’ He said, naming the wrong university. This happens more often than I can even tell you. I corrected him. ‘Oh, yeah. Sorry!’

I laughed, ‘It’s okay. Happens all the time, sometimes my mum even starts taking the wrong motorway to take me back.’ He laughed. ‘But yeah, it’s fine. Hard. But it’s been good. How have you been?’

‘Good, good. Just working a lot really. I’m actually headed off to work now. You going to be down at the pub later?’ While there were many pubs around, there was only one that the locals went to, so I naturally knew which one he was referring to.

‘Maybe.’

‘You should, a bunch of people are going out tonight. Birthday celebrations.’

‘Oh, whose?’

‘Mine.’

I really should have checked facebook to see whose birthday it was before I left, since he and I are facebook friends, and now I looked like an idiot. ‘Oh! Happy Birthday! I guess I’ll have to come down now.’

‘Yeah, please do.’ He said, smiling.

‘I’ll have to see if Alex has plans, but I’m pretty sure we can make it.’

He laughed. ‘Safe. See you tonight.’

‘Bye.’ Then added, ‘Enjoy your birthday!’ as he walked away. He turned around and smiled and waved.

Alex and I continued walking until the street ended and the park began. I let him off of the lead that I had put on him once we were in areas that actually had cars and he sprinted across the field. I sat down on a bench and stared at the field. I wasn’t staring at anything in particular, more like just looking at a giant painting. No thought or dialogue ran through my head and my chest felt hollow. I had been doing that a lot lately, which is why I had to cut and run. I thought about the night before I left.

I was sat in the JCR, surrounded by people talking, not listening to any of them. Someone behind me said my name but it just echoed through my head like a cry from the distance. Maybe if I pretend I didn’t hear them they’ll leave me alone. No chance. They repeated my name, before finally I felt a hand on my shoulder. ‘Hey!’ Al said.

‘Oh, hi!’ I said, pretending that I hadn’t heard his earlier greetings.

‘Are you alright mate?’ He asked frowning.

‘No.’ I had resolved not to lie to people just to make them feel better. Though I could probably get them to leave me alone quicker if I did.

‘Aw, come on. You’ll be fine.’ He sat down next to me and started going into his spiel about moving on again and I tried to remember the body movements one does when listening, to give the façade that anything he said was going through. His words ran through my head like a dial tone. I couldn’t tell you what he said because I honestly have no idea. I suddenly realised that he had stopped talking and that I was staring at something just slightly to the side of him. He was just waiting for me to do anything. I slowly looked around a bit then at him. He had the same concerned frown on his face. ‘Mate, you have to cheer up.’

So I pretended to and talked about anything but Dale. Until Al brought up what he had done the night before. ‘We were so wasted. I mean, I have never seen Dale that drunk, ever.’

I didn’t write about the night Al was referring to at the time, because I don’t actually write every single detail in this blog. In fact, truth be told, the last few posts were written about a week before I posted them, as a sort of daily diary which I didn’t know if I wanted to post. I tried to carry on as if nothing was wrong, praying that I could delete them and rewrite history. As if getting back together would erase that week of hell from my life, and that I could lie to thousands of strangers and pretend like none of it happened. I wanted desperately to write about how happy I was again. But nothing has changed and I don’t honestly know if it will. So, every day I wake up and relive one of those days, re-reading what I wrote, changing a few details, correcting typos that were inevitable since I could barely see the screen I was crying so hard, posting them, then going back to staring blankly at a wall while I mindlessly pet my dog.

Back to the scene – Al had been out with Dale that night. I knew this because I saw them in the JCR. Dale and I had a brief conversation, just being friendly and talking nonsense. Nothing major. I had asked where he was headed afterwards and he told me, but in a matter-of-fact, not a ‘you should come’, sort of way. Against my better judgment I was coerced by other friends to go to said place with everyone. When I arrived with a friend we went and said hello to everyone, including Dale, and then within minutes Dale was nowhere to be seen.

‘He’s extremely drunk.’

‘I’ve never seen him this drunk.’

‘He’s probably passed out in the toilets, I’ll check.’

‘He’s probably gone home to go to bed.’

People tried to convince me, as they shoved drinks into my hands. Everyone made up all sorts of excuses for him, trying to persuade me that it had nothing to do with me. I believed them all. I had to. Or else I probably would have gone and passed out in the toilets from over-consumption.

I believed everyone until the next day, when sat across from Al he told me how he had gone to meet Dale and Lily at the pub.

‘… What time?’ I asked.

‘Really late. Probably like midnight. We were there until well late just getting absolutely hammered.’

The time frame Al was giving meant that Dale had left the club I had been in to go to the pub with Lily. ‘So, let me get this straight. You. Went to meet Dale. And Lily.’

I could see the panic in his eyes as he shifted in his chair and said, ‘Yes.’

I looked away slightly towards something just behind his right ear. I had to go into my thoughtless, zoning out mode before my mind started going crazy with every negative thought. It manifested itself instead in my chest and I felt as if I couldn’t breathe. My heart was throwing itself against my rib cage, trying to escape.

‘Mate, it’s not like they went home together. I had to walk Dale home and she left on her own.’ My heart felt like it was doing 170 beats per minute. I know what that feels like from my days of running like a lunatic. My breathing had shortened, but I was hoping it was quiet enough that no one would notice. ‘Look, I can see what you’re thinking and you’re wrong. Everyone has thought that something was going on with them too, you aren’t crazy, but they really are just mates. I even talked to him about it and asked him if he fancied her. He doesn’t. He really doesn’t. They are just. Friends. I would tell you if it were otherwise because I can see how hard this has been for you and that would probably help you move on, but it’s just not the case. He didn’t lie to you.’

A few seconds of silence passed. ‘Want to play snooker?’ I asked.

His face softened and he looked at me with a sad expression. ‘Sure, mate.’ He said slowly. ‘Whatever you want.’

I sat watching Alex run with another dog, half his size. It was only when he was tired of running and probably in need of water than he ran back to me, out of breath. He licked my knee and I sat staring mindlessly at the landscape. Alex rested his head on my knee and let out a moan. I bent down and kissed him on the top of the head, then put his lead back on and began walking briskly towards the house. About a minute into the walk I realised I had nothing to really walk to and wondered why I was walking so fast. My pace slowed from about three miles an hour to one (I literally know exactly what those speeds are – at least those hours on the treadmill weren’t for nothing). Walking slowly meant more time to think I realised, so I picked my pace back up and headed home.

Everyone was at work so it was just Alex and I. After I had fed him I sat in our sitting room, and pulled out my laptop. As I scrolled through the next bit of writing I had to post I tried to do it as mindlessly as possible, but it was no use. My chest got tight and my vision began to blur. I tried to hold it back for as long as possible, wanting anything but that feeling. No feeling was better than this feeling. I pressed ‘Publish Post’ and closed my laptop, collapsing onto a pillow which I proceeded to soak with tears for the subsequent hour.