I planned to stay up with him all night, watching over him and reassuring him. But I fell asleep, lulled by the gentle sound of the waves I had grown so accustomed to. When I woke up, I found my dearest friend dead in my arms. His sleek silver body limp and eyes closed, tongue lolling. I shook him, even though I knew he wouldn't respond. I had to try. There was no way I could simply just leave him, I had to check.
"Jack?" My voice cracked as his head rolled into the crook of my elbow.
"Bastards!" I yelled at the top of my voice. I know it was stupid and pointless; it was not like they intended to kill my dog. But it was the fact that they had done. And it was my dog. Anger surged in my blood as I stood up, cradling Jack like a baby. Snatching up a spade, I staggered out over the rocks and jumped into the waves.
Swimming to the mainland had never been so hard. With no hands and being weighted down with Jack's body, I nearly drowned. But I persevered.
Reach. Kick. Reach. Kick.
For. Jack. For. Jack.
On shore, I dug a small grave and laid Jack down peacefully on the sand and covered him up again. Tears streaked my face as I marked the grave with a rick and some seaweed. He deserved better, much better. But it was all I could do.