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He naps with me. When he sleeps, his tounge slowly slides out of his mouth. When he wakes up, he leaves it stuck out until he eats or licks something. So he's walking around, a noble looking black and white border collie, with his bubble-gum pink tounge sticking out.
My drunken grandpa decided to take them hunting (they lived out in the country, and owned a lot of land) The first shot he fired, they ran home. I was outside, playing by myself. They ran to me, and I put my arms around them.
He took out his flask, took a long, long pull, and demanded the dogs. I looked at the shotgun and said no. He came up and tried to grab one, I started screaming for my mom and grandma. He slapped me, hard, and wrestled one of the pups from me. I kept screaming again, and I heard my mom and grandma running up the hill as he wrestled the other pup from me.
My grandmother started screaming at him. "Larry, those aren't your dogs, you goddamn drunk. Snap out of it, those aren't you're dogs! You haven't trained a hunting dog for twelve years! Don't you dare!"
He looked at me and said "Sorry, Lavena" (My mom's name) and put the pups on the ground, facing away from all of us. He stomped and yelled, and they took off. With my grandmother and mother screeching, and me just sitting there crying, he shot my pups. Two shots, two dead dogs.
He was hollering at me and shaking his leg, which I had a hold of and was pounding on the back of his knee.
My grandmother was cursing him, and my mother was grabbing at me.
My grandpa shook me off and ran towards the dogs. He picked one up and looked confused. The his eyes locked on me and got mean.
"Larry, get the fuck out of my house, (They were divorced, but he mooched a lot, and came over to see the two kids that still lived with grandma (in their mid thirties)) get off of my property, don't hang around in the neighborhood, or I swear to God, Jesus, and the Virgin Mary I will club you with this gun until you;re dead."
I had been vaguely aware of these happenings, but most of my focus was on the corpse on the ground not a foot in front of me, and my stinging, blood stained face, and the noise the pup had made when it connected with my cheek and temple. A meaty, squishy sound. The sight of that lifeless body swinging towards me.
At this point, my mom scooped me up and jogged me inside. She took me to the bathroom, stripped me, and told me to take a shower, and stay in there as long as I wanted to. She locked the door as she went out.