Lucky

I once had a dog called Lucky when I was a kid. But I guess he wasn't that lucky at all.

On one particularly random day, my sister and I with our crazy imagination decided to make a birthday cake for Lucky, our white energetic furball. It wasn't his birthday, but we imagined that it was. So we made a really special cake out of soil and other stuff which I don't really remember and presented it to Lucky. We even sang Happy Birthday to him.

That night, Lucky died.

My dad left the gate open when he went out to buy us supper. Lucky saw his chance to venture out so he ran out of the gate without us noticing. When my dad came back on his motorbike, there's was this white thing in his motorbike basket. My dad cuddled it in his arms and I took a closer look and that was when I realized it was Lucky. With blood stains on his fur. Stiff as a statue. Dead.

He got ran over by a car.

I cried and cried while my dad wrapped him up in newspapers and buried him.

That night was a really sad night. Lucky was my first pet dog.

And I never celebrated any of my pets' birthday again.