All Alone

I still remember that moment when she took me in her velvety soft hands and cuddled. I was damp, frightened and shivering in that cold rain. She was the first one to look into my eyes. Until then nobody cared for my existence. I sensed affection, friendship. I sensed love. Probably she found me cute or adored my soft fur. 'Puppy,' she called me lovingly.
She gave me all that a three month old pup with a caring owner is supposed to have. I felt the world with her.
I didn't know how my mother looked, how it feels to play with siblings who looked more like me. I missed my race. But her love never let me think of them.
'Take that bloody street dog out of the house,' shouted her dad, 'They cause diseases.'
She obeyed with a heavy heart. She was helpless. After all she was also a kid of her species.

I was homeless yet again. I had no complaints with her. But 'causing diseases' I couldn't stand that. I was raging in my mind, craving in my stomach. I missed my mother badly. She would have protected me. I couldn't compete with those fiery adult dogs for the food on the road. Fleas and ticks took over my fur in no time. My circumstances angered me further. A spoiled brat threw a stone at me. I bit him in frustration. Then came a pauper singing country rock songs so loud that I thought I would explode. I bit him too. The number of people getting bitten grew par with number of them bothering me.
People avoided me. They called me 'a mad stray dog.'  A piece of bread might have made me normal but these humans have their own strategies. They arranged my encounter with the 'stray dog culling' team. They gave me one hard blow that I couldn't get up  again to bite them. My eyes shut to the rest of the world. Forever.
This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.
This time you have to write a short story/incident(200-300 words) from an animal's perspective.

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