Simba

Simba

  by: Sassha Gonzalez

  Published by Audra Bagdziunas at Smash Words

  Copyright 2012 Sassha Gonzalez

  All Rights Reserved

  I dedicate this story to my friend, Simba.

  I never got to say goodbye to you, so this is the only way I could think of.

  Goodbye, Simba. I love you and don't forget to save me a slice of Boar's

  Head ham in heaven.

  I sit on the floor watching the daughter walk across the kitchen into the white box that contains food. She is really tall. Has skin the color of a deer. A creamy brown, but light like the bark of birch trees. I look up at her and nudge her gently. She looks down to me and smiles. I can smell it. The meat. It smells so delicious. So sweet. She closes a part of the white box and sits on the floor in front of me. She seems to remove white skin from the meat. I sniff it but she pushes me away speaking her strange language.

  "Simba...Stop! That's paper silly!"

  I stare trying to understand her words. I assume she means the skin is not meant to be eaten. I sit on my haunches and feel that strange thing she claims as a 'tail' move. It seems to move a lot when I am happy. I remember when I was younger; I used to have so many games of chase with it. Now, it is just a part of me that expresses my emotions. I watch the daughter pull a piece of meat and drop it into her mouth. She smiles and speaks to me.

  "Your turn babe!"

  She pulls a slice and holds it in front of me. I smack my jaws tight on the meat and swallow it down. It tastes so sweet. I don't think meat is supposed to taste this way, but I like it anyway. I keep my eyes on her. I know how her face gets when it is my turn to share meat. She smiles and I stand then turn in a circle of excitement.

  I want more, I think to myself, give me more meat! Please! It’s delicious.

  "Okay. You don't have to bark Simba. Here."

  I watch her hold another slice and I lick it softly. She shakes it and I slam my jaws on it once again swallowing. After more slices of meat, she returns the package to the white box and sits against the wall and calls me to her. I walk slowly. I know I am old, but I still feel young. I hear my claws make contact with the surface of the floor. I settle in between her legs and rest my muzzle on her lap. She scratches behind my ears and I grunt with delight. She knows how to caress me. Almost like a dog would... or a wolf would. But she is neither. She is human. I know this for she stands tall and walks on two legs. I feel her lips upon my soft fur and she whispers in my ear after kissing my head.

  "You are my silly Simba. My best friend...maybe even my equal."

  I look up at her with pleading eyes.

  What is this language, I whimper to her.

  But she does not speak mine, as I do not speak hers. I look at her eyes. They are dark, like my own. I study her expression, and even though I could not comprehend her language, I know she only means well. Her spirit is not like a human’s, but is like mine. Canine. I wonder what made her such a way. I wonder how a human could contain such an ability. She puts her nose to mine and mimics a dog's sniff. Can she speak my language? I decide to sniff back and lick her face. She pulls away with an odd sound.

  "Yuck! Doggy breath! Man you need a mint!"

  I prick my ears straight and whimper.

  What did I do wrong, I think to myself.

  She looks at me and then she runs her hands over my back. I think she has forgiven me, but I am unsure. I whimper more as I rest my head on her lap once more. That is when she rests her cheek lightly on my head.

  Yes, she has forgiven me for whatever wrong I have done, I think.

  I hear a sound. A jingling at the door. Its her mother. I run to the door and greet the old woman. I can smell her scent. I smell many others too. Old ones.

  A keeper of the sick, I ask myself, Is there such a thing? Well, perhaps amongst humans.

  The mother smiles at me and pets me then calls her daughter.

  "Robin, go get Simba's leash. We have to take him to the vet for his check up."

  "Okay mom, just a sec."

  I beg for attention from the mother. I just want to smell her. She has so many peculiar scents of other humans. Old ones. Most of them dying. I know death. I can smell it. I have been smelling it for some time now. In this house. It reeks loudly, but I am uncertain from who.

  I stop begging for attention because my thoughts wander on whom death could want. I trot to my corner in the kitchen to think some more and watch the daughter searching for something.

  Death could not want someone so young, I think to myself, perhaps the mother, but it is not poignant upon her person. Then who? The accepted male perhaps?

  The daughter spins around and she has a long blue rope in her hands. She kneels before me and I hear a clipping sound.

  A WALK!! I AM GOING OUTSIDE!

  I am so excited I begin to shake my tail friend and tap my feet. I think I am too pampered, but I love these humans. They are beautiful creatures. The daughter leads me to the door and we embrace the afternoon sun with joy. The mother is still inside and the daughter lets me walk around the front of our home and I mark a spot. She laughs. At what I do not know, but she speaks to me in her tongue with humor in her voice.

  "I wish I could just go whenever I wanted to. Marking my territory just as I please. Right Simba?"

  She spoke my name. Humans name things. I know my name is Simba. That much of her language I understand. I paw her legs and look up. She is so tall. I wish she were a four legger. She would be beautiful. What kind of canine, I do not know. She would be big. Maybe a wolf.

  The mother comes out of the house and speaks to the daughter.

  "Here. Take the keys and put him in the car. I'll be right out."

  "Okay, come on Simba."

  The mother hands the daughter some jingling pieces and the daughter leads me to a very big box. It seems to have eyes on the bottom. The eyes seem to be its legs. She opens a door that seems to glide like a duck on a pond. I jump inside. She closes the door and then opens another small one then climbs inside. I want to sing to her, so I do.

  "Simba! You weirdo! Why are you barking so much?!"

  My friend! My equal, I want to keep you, for all life's sake, for the moon's lovely light, I sing.

  "Simba! Come on! Stop it you silly dog!"

  She touches my neck and kisses my nose. I lick her face and she laughs. I think she laughs at me. The mother walks to the big machine with eyes as legs and opens a door and gets inside. The daughter hands her the jingling pieces and the box roars. I am used to it. I sit down and I hear them speak.

  "Did you tell the vet what’s wrong with Simba?"

  "Yes. Did he eat today?"

  "Yeah. I shared some ham with him. A few slices. He didn't throw it up like everything else we've tried giving him."

  "Make sure you let the vet know."

  "You think he will be okay mom?"

  "I’m sure it’s just some parasite or something. Dogs get it all the time."

  "Yeah," the daughter looks at me suddenly," I hope so."

  I sit up and whimper as the box with eyes as legs begins to move. The daughter strokes my fur so tenderly. She is not human. She cannot be. She is too wild. I see it in her eyes. I smell it on her person. Yet, I still see a two legger. How could such a spirit be trapped in a human body? I cannot continue to look at her so I look at people outside of the box. They seem to fly by us. Or is it us flying by them? I see something that walks on fours, but I do not know if it is like me. I extend my nose up and sniff the air, but I receive no scent. I lose interest and settle looking at the girl again. She is speaking in her language, but it sounds smoother. Almost like if she was singing. Could she be singing the way humans do? I think she is. Suddenly the box with eyes as legs stops. The roar ends and the mother and
daughter open their doors and disappear. I whimper. Have they left me? The door slides open and the sun filters in. I see the form of the daughter and she helps me out of the box with eyes as legs. The mother closes the door and we enter a home. It is not our home. My nose picks up many scents. Human and not human. We enter and I see a female. She notices me and I try to make contact with her but that blue rope holds me back. The daughter looks down at me.

  "Oh. Sorry Simba, I can't let you go, but I can walk you to her."

  The daughter looks at the female's human and smiles. She speaks to him.

  "Is it okay if my dog says hello to your dog?"

  "Sure. He is beautiful."

  "Oh thank you. He is a Sheltie. His name is Simba."

  "Oh. This is Mira. She is a Poodle and Sheltie mix."

  Suddenly I realize I have space to move closer to the female and we inspect each other. She seems to posses some similarity to me, but is still mysterious in shape. The female stares at me and places her nose to mine.

  You are an interesting male, she tells me.

  You are like me, but how? I ask her as I sniff her ears.

  I do not know, but it is something to ponder