WHISKEY MY CHILDHOOD COMPANION

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There is a point in everyone's life where they treasure something so deeply that they miss it immensely, so much so that they might give almost anything to have it back. This could be something lost at some point, or even someone who has passed away. People often develop strong attachments to objects, individuals, activities, or even television shows.

Growing up, we had this dog that I loved so much. I have never felt or shown any animal affection quite like I did for Whiskey. Whiskey was the first puppy we had after my father built our house and we moved in. Previously, we lived in a compound housing eight two-room apartments where owning a dog was not allowed. As soon as we settled into our new home, I asked my dad to get me a puppy. On one memorable day, when my dad returned from work, he brought home a very cute puppy. I was seven years old at the time and was overjoyed that my father had finally brought me a dog. I didn’t have a name in mind, so my dad decided to name him Whiskey.

Every morning before school, I would feed Whiskey, and on weekends, very early in the morning and before going to church, I would do the same. As soon as I returned from school, I would ask my mum, who was always home, if she had fed the dog. Regardless of her answer, I would still go ahead and feed my dog, and I would also give him something to eat before going to bed.

Since he was my dog, it was also my responsibility to clean his doghouse and bathe him every week. Whenever I had the chance to go to the park nearby, I would take him for a walk, and we would play until I was tired, before returning home.

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Fast forward five years later, my mother was pregnant with my younger sister and went to the hospital to give birth. She left Whiskey at home alone, but by the time we all returned, we couldn’t find him. It was a bittersweet day for me; I was gifted a sister, my only sister, but on the same day, my most precious animal was missing. When my dad came back from work, I rushed to him to tell him what had happened to Whiskey. I could see the pain in his eyes too, but he had to calm me down and take me out that evening to look for my dog. We searched so hard that evening, but we found no trace of Whiskey. It was later said that Whiskey had been stolen by people who used to steal dogs for food.

I was sad for the entire week. Even after years, I would always look out, hoping to see my dog returning home. What consoled me during that period was the birth of my younger sister, but until this moment, I have always wished that I would see Whiskey again.

Thank you for reading. My name is @rishagamo, and this is my response to the Hive Learners weekly Featured Content Week 165 Episode 03: “BACK TO LIFE”.

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