Strudel Lives Forever
A Short Story by Za
Strudel and I had a big day today. We woke up early to go get breakfast at Pancake Palace. We both had her favorite, blueberry pancakes. I got her a big stack and let her eat until she couldn’t hold another bite. Syrup was all over her face, but we didn’t care. Today was her special day.
After that, we went to the park. We were there waiting when the groundskeeper unlocked the gate. I carried her around, we played I Spy, we sat and talked about our happiest memories. Strudel loves to remind me of the time I accidentally switched our plates of spaghetti. She ate my normal plate while I ate her special fluffy spaghetti. I’d never felt that sick before in my life. Strudel stayed by my side the whole night I was throwing up. “Is otay daddeh,” she told me, “Stwudew gib huggies tiww da sickies gu way!”
In the afternoon, we sat at the park and listened to Strudel’s favorite songs. She loved anything by The Wiggles. I counted ten times we listened to Fruit Salad. I didn’t mind. I sat and sang with her each and every time. Today was her day, and I’d do whatever she wanted. I even got us ice cream. She loved mint chocolate chip, and so did I.
In the evening, we went back home. We picked up a few things. I grabbed Strudel’s favorite blanket, her favorite stuffy, and some spaghetti-flavored treats. I let her have one before we left, since she’d been a good girl all day. She wanted to rest her legs a while, but we still had one more place to go today. I coaxed her back out of the house with a second treat. It was okay, today was her day.
At 7:00 pm, we arrived at the vet. Strudel and I sat in the waiting room for what felt like hours. She kept telling me she wanted to go home. Her bones were aching, and she was tired. I promised her this was the last place we’d go today. She curled up in my lap and rested.
When the doctor called us back, we were both nervous. Strudel never liked the vet. She was being a brave girl, so I gave her a treat. She loved these spaghetti treats. They were the first solid food I gave her when I started weaning her off of milk almost fifteen years ago.
When the doctor came back with the shot, Strudel shrank away into my lap. I gave her another treat and promised her it wouldn’t hurt. It would make her feel better.
“It’ll be okay,” I told her. “You’re such a brave girl for coming to the vet with me.”
“Stwudew nu wike meanie shot, shots gib huwties.”
“This shot’s different,” I promised. “This one will make all the hurties go away.”
“Stwudew nu huwties nu mowe?”
“Never again.”
“Dat mean Stwudew nu can gu fowebah sweepies?”
I hesitated to answer that question.
“You’ll live forever, Strudel.”
“Fowebah wif daddeh?”
“Forever with daddy.”
Strudel yawned, snuggling up against me. She didn’t even notice the needle that was in her hindquarters. She was such a brave girl.
“Daddeh am wite,” she said. “Stwudew… nu can feew huwties… nu mowe.”
“I love you, Strudel.”
…
“Strudel?”
