Tootsie, Puppy Star
The little girl opened her eyes to a starry sky. Through the painted window sill, white clouds floated by seeming to be painted also. Painted to faded shades of blue by the mono-hues of nighttime. The little girl knew that the windowsill and the clouds were both white in the daylight, but she liked the world of the cool indigo night. The moon paled the stars, but they were still showing through. The child looked for the star that she had made into her dog Tootsie. Her puppy that had been run over right in front of her house was now buried in her back yard, but the real Tootsie was in heaven; she was the third star from the end of the Little Dipper. It was confusing sometimes finding her puppy in the sky, but when the girl started talking to her adored pet, her eyes would just automatically pick out the right star. The little girl sometimes talked herself to sleep, telling Tootsie about her day, and how much she missed petting and holding her. The girl's mother tried to explain to her that the sky was not the heaven that Tootsie went to, but the child knew that her mother was wrong. She could feel her Tootsie in the sky and in the air all around her. She chose a star and named it Tootsie, because she liked looking at her puppy when she talked to her.
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Cute little Tootsie would come running from anywhere when she heard LaVera's voice. A small brown gyp, not fully grown, but definitely fully loved, came running across the neighborhood street as her name was called. LaVera saw the car soon enough but could not stop the puppy from running. "Tootsie! No! Tootsie! Wait! Stop! Stay girl! Stay!" The puppy only heard her name and the voice of the little girl that she loved.
The 1950ish Chevy stopped half a block down the street and the driver got out.
LaVera had already ran to the street and cradled the dying animal in her arms. She carried Tootsie to the cement steps at the front door and rocked the small dog in her arms. "Don't die Tootsie." LaVera pleaded. She stared into the blank eyes of the puppy and begged her not to die over and over again.
The pregnant lady from the Chevy walked solemnly up to the steps.
"I'm so sorry, I couldn't stop. He just ran out in front of me."
"She's a girl, and her name is Tootsie!"
LaVera's Mom squeezed out or the screen door down the steps past her sobbing child holding the dead dog. The two women talked in the yard a little away from the front steps. LaVera couldn't hear them through her own pleas. " Don't die, Tootsie. Please don't die." LaVera talked to the dog as she stroked and massaged the loose puppy skin around the neck, the warm, soft fur under the still-new, red, leather collar. The one with diamonds in it, she had picked it out herself in Richie's Grocery Store at the end of, Warwick, their street.
The mother came back and stood by her daughter.
"LaVera Tootsie's done already dead, honey."
"No! No, she ain't! Her eyes are still open. She ain't dead."
"Her eyes are open, but she can't see nothin no more. Tootsie's gone to heaven, LaVera."
"No, she ain't! She is still alive. I can tell. She can hear me."
The child held the puppy even tighter, "Please be alive, Tootsie. Don't die!"
The mom finally went back inside the house and watched helplessly as her little girl suffered her first tragedy. LaVera sat on the front steps holding her beloved Tootsie begging the dog not to die for much too long. The father would be home soon. He would know what to do.
The grievous child was still rocking on the steps holding her lifeless pet when the father drove into the shell driveway. LaVera heard the crunchy, grinding of the oyster shells, but she didn't look up. The puppy's fur was no longer warm, but it was moist from the child's tears. LaVera scooted over to the edge of the steps to allow her father by.
"What the devil's wrong with your girl?"
"Tootsie got runned over, but she's not dead."
"Where's your mama at?"
"In the kitchen. She thinks Tootsie's dead, but she ain't. She can hear me. I know she can. She's gonna be Ok, daddy. I just know she is."
Her father went on inside eyeing her and her dog with his tired face. She heard his lunch box clink on the kitchen formica counter and her mother telling him about the accident. The father asked, "Why did you let her set out there holdin that dead dog for so long?" LaVera clutched her dear Tootsie closer.
"She won't believe that it is dead. I just didn't have the heart to tear it away from her, and she wouldn't let it go. " LaVera could hear a strained, quivering sound in her mother's voice, and her daddy breathed a breath hard and disgusted. He came out, and the screen door slammed behind him. He was a man, and he had to take charge of this situation. Just a little over twenty, but he was a man; he was the father; he was the head of the house; he had had to take charge.
"Give me that dog, girl. It's dead. Ain't no breath left in her."
"No, Tootsie ain't dead!"
" The dam dog is dead. There ain't no life left in that hound. We gotta bury her."
"She ain't dead! She'll be OK in a minute. Just wait n see."
"She's already getting stiff. Now give her here!" The father grabbed Tootsie by the, now, not-so-loose puppy skin at the back of her neck and jerked her from LaVera's arms. Her reach followed the pup, but her father was too strong and too quick. She ran behind him screaming and crying, "She ain't dead! Please give me her back. She ain't dead! Please!" LaVera could feel her words getting stuck in her throat. The father kept walking around to the back of the house, grabbing a shovel that was leaning on the corner, not missing a step.
"We gotta bury her, LaVera."
"No Daddy, she ain't dead! Pleasedon't put her under the dirt. Pleeeeese!" LaVera grabbed his pant leg as he walked. He didn't kick her, he just simply kept walking and she fell aside.
He dropped the puppy to the ground as he began to dig. LaVera dropped to the ground also and pulled her best friend over on her lap again. Her daddy stopped his digging and yelled at his daughter at his feet and then to his wife in the house. "Get away from that dog! It's dead! It could'a already give you some nasty disease! Now get away..... Woman, get out here an take care of LaVera. Get her outta here."
He couldn't do what a man was suppose to do with the kid hanging on his pant leg hollering and carrying on like this. LaVera heard the screen door slam, and saw her mama coming across the back yard with a sad twisted look on her face. LaVera could hardly breathe, but she tried to gasp out, "Plee...ease, Toot...sie ain't de....ad.VCW
2002
