Creative Writing

Creative Writing

My First Pet

It was a hot summer day in May. I was riding my bicycle, returning home from music class. It was a good fifteen-minute path.   A backpack was strapped to my back with my music lessons books. 

It was around 6:00 PM, I was about to pass the boulevard of a government building, and usually, at this time it would be quite busy. I decided to take a shortcut through a hedge, which led to an open football ground that was not in use.  The green grass was a pleasant sight for my tired eyes. I sat down to chill for a while, the moist and soft grass on my bare feet felt heavenly.

 

I was startled to the sound of a cricket chirping close to my ear! I must have dozed off, the football field was engulfed in darkness, and I was late enough to get my mother worried. 

 

In a hurry, I picked up my backpack, slung it over one shoulder and quickly rode through the streets to get home.

 

My bag felt a little heavy, on my shoulder, maybe as it was slung to one side, or maybe just because I was tired. I dismissed the thought and pushed my other arm through the other sling of the backpack to rest it over my back. 

 

It was 9:00 PM when I reached home, and everyone in my family was worried. I bravely made it through my parent’s concerned rant, washed up and sat down for dinner. As we chatted about our day, we could hear the soft cry of a puppy, in the background. It was a little vague, as it appeared to come from somewhere close. My mom reassured us that it must be some dog in the neighborhood. 

 

After dinner, I grabbed my bag and went to my room. I was just about to keep the bag into my closet when I felt something unusual about it. I placed the bag on my bed, and I was about to open it when the bag moved! It was bizarre, so I called my brother over, and we stared at it in awe. Suddenly, there was a little paw sticking out from the corner of the bag through the gap of the flap. It looked like a little puppy’s hand, and we also heard the same moaning again. I called my parents to my room and we all watched the bag move, and my dad slowly mustered the courage to open the bag.

 

He unbuckled the flap, to open the bag and behold! A cute little puppy popped his head out!  How in the world did he get here? He retorted. He must've entered the bag when I had left it on the football field.

 

I took him out of the bag. He was just a ball of brown fur with eyes like tiny grapes and cute floppy ears. He was trembling in my arms and wimping in agony. My mother noticed that one of his limbs was injured. I told her to hold him, but she was very hesitant. My dad too resisted, “It looks so dirty, you need to scrub him clean first” he said. My brother grabbed the first aid kit and we both decided to clean the wound. We needed to distract the puppy, he was howling too loudly. My mom could not take it any longer, she took him in her arms and calmed him down first. She got him to drink some water, and gently nursed his wound. My dad too tried to help out in bandaging him. I and my brother watched my parents take him to the kitchen, and feed him some milk.

Meanwhile, my brother took a soft towel and made him a nice cozy bed in a fruit basket. It was a peaceful and pleasant sight to watch him gently close his eyes and drift into a blissful sleep. My brother and I pleaded with my parents, to keep him. My mom wouldn’t budge at first, but she came around and we decided to keep him. That's how my pet " Chickoo” into our lives.

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