The Day the Music Died
Daniel was a
handsome Foxhound, my first love in fact. I was a smaller and skinny looking Border
Collie, which marked me out given the typical athletic stature of my breed. Yet Daniel always made me feel confident and happy. I remember it was a cold
February when we first met and I had been dragged to a community event
organised by my mother. My parents were both influential canines in our town, my
father owned a factory that employed a lot of local furs, while my mother
organised events for everyone to get together. Daniel's father worked for mine.
His family lived in a smaller house on the other side of the railway track and
we went to separate schools, but despite our differences, we became
inseparable. As soon as we were alone for the first time, I whispered "I want to hold your paw", borrowing the
line from a song I'd heard on the radio. Surprisingly, he said yes. Our
friendship grew from there and it soon developed into something more. The
nature of our subsequent relationship was secret, but it was still fun. My
parents were often out, my father busy with his job and my mother organising her
community events. Daniel came to my house after school with the excuse that I
was helping him with homework. However, we'd steal my brother's records and
dance in the front room while everyone else was out of the house. We joked that
we would become famous one day and make our own music. It was risky since my
mother disapproved of the music my brother owned, she would have thrown out his
records had she discovered them. Daniel and I would sing and dance paw in paw
to "Satisfaction" by The Rolling Stones, which was ironic since we gave each
other more than enough satisfaction.
We used to
sneak off and drive my father's Chevy down to the river where we would drink
whisky and rye under a tree. We'd kiss and make love under the stars when the
hot summer arrived. If there were other furs by the river, we drove up to a
hill that overlooked our town. We'd watch the sunset as our tails brushed. I
never grew tired of the view. I could see for miles and miles and miles, over
the town and to the mountains in the distance. I thought it would never end and
I made plans in my head for our future. "God
only knows what I'd be without him" I thought to myself. I wanted to ask
him to my prom, be he talked me out of it, saying everyone would freak out.
However, he still appreciated the gesture and said we could go out afterwards.
I left shortly before the prom ended and went to his house, still in my tuxedo with a
pink carnation in the button hole. We took his father's pickup truck and went to
our usual spot under the tree, making up for the time that we didn't get to spend
together.
However,
things began to change after I graduated from High School. Battle lines had
been drawn and I realised that our lives were set on two different paths. I was
the fortunate one. He chose to enlist in the army while I went off to college. I
tried moving on, chasing after a white rabbit by sending him notes in class until
he agreed to date me, but it didn't last. No one could replace Daniel. I could
not forget his hypnotic brown eyes and glossy fur. I missed his strong, muscular
body as he held me close under the night sky.
I joined a
flurry of protests on campus, singing songs and carrying signs, then blew my mind as I experimented with drugs
and alcohol. It was exciting while it lasted, but it came to a sudden end with
a cloud of CS gas in my face. My time in college drifted by in a haze, but I
still listened to the record collection and thought of Daniel every day. He was
away fighting a war in a jungle while I was indulging in a decadent lifestyle.
His breed were effective at sniffing out the enemy, so they patrolled in the
danger zones. I watched the news footage of the helicopters and planes climbing
high into the night, fireballs erupting over the trees and the fighting in the
streets. I longed for his safe return.
Then, I got
the news I'd been dreading on the last day of my final semester.
That was it,
I couldn't listen to anymore. The records stopped spinning on the turntable
with a final click.
That was the
day the music died.