So without further ado, enjoy.
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Prologue
FLASH!
A warm happy smiles creeps onto my face at the satisfactory feeling of slowly pressing down on the button and taking my first picture. I slowly bring my right eye away from the viewfinder of my new camera and look at the small LCD screen to see the photo I had taken. My chest feels like it's going to burst purely from excitement since I had wanted a camera for as long as I could remember but being a dog my Dad never really thought it was necessary to give me one since I stayed indoors a lot. I began to reminisce on the long bouts of pleading I had with my dad, on my knees just begging for a camera to no avail. Now though, I cast those memories aside as I held in my hand a Nikon D60 camera.
My name is Free Crosser and I'm an 16 year old Doberman Pinscher. My fur color is really just identical to all other Doberman's, with a black fur all over except for my hands, paws, and muzzle. Honestly I'm not as strong or big as other doberman's, making me a bit skinny in stature, but what I lack in strength is what I make up in speed and I always manage to beat other dogs in races much to their chagrin. Around my neck is a dark green color that matches my eyes and my tag is a black circle with a gray hexagon in the middle and adjacent lines so it looks like a zooming camera lens.
I am inside of a large musty two room housing unit within a retirement building and it smells like old people, moth balls and some other unpleasant odors I've grown accustomed to due to my numerous visits. The floor is an old kind of carpet the decor is simplistic in nature due to the retirement home's lack in any real kind of funding. A one person bed is at my side, its blankets and pillows neatly put into place while the rest of the room is furnished with a small wooden nightstand, lamp, small TV and a large dresser with family pictures strewn about it. One door next to the dresser leads to the bathroom which I fear to enter due to the smell and whatever kind of appliances old people must use in order to clean themselves and to the right of that is the door leading outside.
I'm not even really going to pay attention to my collar anymore or my surroundings since I've got a camera around my neck now. I look up at the wrinkled, old face of my grandpa and hug him as he sits comfortably in his wheelchair. He is old, car exceeding the timeframe most doctors have given him, but his old blue eyes still manage to keep a twinkle of warmth in them as I embrace him thankfully. His skin, although wrinkly, still has a vibrant peachy glow to it and his gray hair still managed to stay in a quaint combover despite the years. He wore a simple red plaid shirt with gray suspenders connecting to his pants which were hidden by a blue blanket covering his legs.
I let go of him, smile still beaming on my face before I look over at my dad, Barry Crosser, who smiled in turn. He's a man entering's his 30's, with black stubble over his chin and matching black hair that was naturally spiked. His stature, much like mine, is rather lithe and compressed in order to hide the small muscles he has. He wore a form fitting gray long sleeved turtleneck, simple blue jeans, and white sneakers. My dad is single and that doesn't bother me at all. He says he's looking for the right girl to make him happy and vice versa. Last time I saw him talk with a girl was when he was ordering us food at a diner and she wasn't that pretty anyways. But even before that I've sheard girls in the background talking about that 'man with the spiky black hair' and how they adore his good looks. Apparently my dad has that 'timid, sensitive' look to him, but I don't really see that. I see him as a rather cool headed, calm and enlightened kind of person since he's always looking for the silver lining in any dark cloud.
Lately, he's been doing that a lot since our situation is a bit binding. Despite being a man with a college degree he's stuck in a jobless limbo that's been plaguing him for months now. I've known about it all this time, but he tries to act like it's not a big deal just to keep my spirits up. I know we're in trying times, but honestly that's really all I know. I don't watch the news much at all, but every few times I catch a glimpse of it I hear things like how people are losing their jobs, homes and money.
It's sad really.
But dad tells me not to linger on it too much in fear of putting both of us in some depressed rut.
He's really doing all he can to keep me happy and satisfied. We went to the park yesterday to get some fresh air, a week before that we watched a cool action movie and even now, despite being against the idea of me getting a camera, he looks happy seeing me hold it in my hands.
I giggle enthusiastically as I let the camera dangle under my head by the sling before I run over to my dad and drag him over to my grandpa. I tell him to get ready for another picture while I set up the tripod that came with the camera. Behind me I hear my grandpa laugh heartily before making a comment about me being the first famous dog photographer.
The thought never really crossed my mind before actually. I just wanted to take pictures because I thought it was cool. I wanted to be able to recall and record events in my life that I'd be able to cherish forever and even pass down to my own pups.
Heh wow, I'm getting ahead of myself here. Way ahead of myself actually.
I laugh along with my grandpa before I set the timer on the camera and rush over to join them. I had set the picture to be taken in black and white as a sort of homage to my grandpa who probably lived through the days when everything was black and white. I ran over to them and wriggled my way in between them, a smile on all our faces.
Ten seconds pass and I finally begin to make my own story.
FLASH!
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The low hum of an airplane engine sounded off in the background as I gazed out the window to see a beautiful seascape with the sun setting on the horizon. The air within the plane is stuffy and warm, and I could occasionally hear the sound of a stifled cough or outrageous sneeze. There are other pets onboard, some asleep like their parents and others busy playing on handheld gaming devices. What was supposed to be a one hour flight was slowly crawling to two hours due to turbulence but I paid it no mind. I like long rides anyways, lets me sightsee.
I release a serene sigh before looking over to my left to see my dad sleeping peacefully in his seat. He recently managed to get a job as a cameraman for a cooking show on some famous chef who’d go around sampling different kinds of food right from the source. They told him it would take at least nine months, if not the entire year, to produce since they wanted to spend time with the locals to learn about their culture and so on. The payroll would lift us out of our financial situation and way beyond that, which excited both me and my dad since it was way overdue. What was even better about it was the fact that I was going to accompany him throughout the entire journey, seeing the world along with him and learning on the way.
I remember squealing so loudly after I was told that.
I’d be able to see the world with my own eyes and better yet I’m going to be able to take pictures of it too. It was like a dream come true and even though I’d have to work with the crew of the documentary in exchange I was still excited. It’d be a busy nine months and I felt ready for every second of it. This would be it for me, my one chance to take pictures of the world and the notion of it caused my spine to tingle with excitement.
I turn away from the sight of my sleeping dad before I reached underneath my seat to the backpack I brought along with me on the plane ride. I withdraw my camera and turn the flash off before pointing it out the small window and zooming in so I could scene I wanted and not the interior of the plane. After three snapshots I chuckle satisfactorily before lowering my camera in order to see through the new pictures, hoping they’d be worthwhile in some way.
The three of them are rather cliché for my taste since they remind me of postcards you’d find from some tropical getaway. I want something unique, something my own, not a picture perfect copy of a dumb postcard. I sigh disappointedly before deleting all three and I look over outside the window foolishly hoping that the view had changed to my liking. Before I could fully succumb to the numbing boredom of not having anything to take a picture of I saw the corner of a picture sticking out of my backpack and I smiled before I took it out.
I stared at the small black and white picture of me, my dad and my grandpa. It had been three months after I had taken this picture and after managing to get it printed properly I always kept it close by. The picture, along with my camera were my most cherished of items now, mostly because of the man who had given them to me. I look at the photo of me and my smiling family, of my grandpa who I love so much and I couldn’t help but fight back a few tears welling up inside of me.
A month ago my grandpa died. He died a peaceful death on his bed under the extensive care of his nurses and doctors who fought very hard to prolong his life even if it was just by hours. I remember just crying through the night in my dad’s arms when I was told the news and I was so compassionate about his death that I even spoke at his eulogy, much to the shock of a few people since they’ve never seen a dog giving a speech before. I recalled on the precious moments I spent with him, laughing at each other’s’ jokes, smiling as we watched TV and playing the occasional game of chess.
Healing after that took a while but I managed and now when I reminisce on my times with my grandpa I just get a slightly bittersweet feeling rather than just crying my eyes out. He was a good man and I’ll always remember him.
An electronic chime sounded over the plane’s onboard speakers before a male voice called out. “We are now approaching the Philippine Islands, please buckle up and put your trays into an upright position.” said the pilot over the speakers before it cut off.
Instead of lingering on the past though, I should really be looking towards my future.
I nudged my dad with my elbow, stirring him from his sleep with a snort of surprise. I laughed at his response and told him we were landing soon. He repositions himself so he’s sitting upright in his chair with his seatbelt buckled. I slung my camera over my neck and carefully put my treasured photo back into my backpack so I wouldn’t lose it while the flight attendants made their rounds through the aisles in order to ensure the seatbelts were on. All around me I could hear the rest of the passengers stir from their sleep and ready themselves for touchdown.
Some time after that we slowly marched towards the front of the plane towards the exit along with the other passengers. My heart was racing with excitement since I had never been out of the country and being in a totally foreign one was both exciting and terrifying at the same time. I could hear my dad chuckle behind me as he noticed my enthusiasm and as we reached the exit I could feel the humid air blow against my face. We slowly exited the plane and instead of entering the long metal hallways that connected the plane to an airport I was greeted with a long staircase leading us down onto the concrete ground below. I was taken aback by the sight of something so old but as my paws finally touched the foreign ground I gasped in shock at what was ahead.
In front of me was a beautiful scene of a wide mountainscape with white snowy caps that pierced through the cloud layer and the sun setting behind it giving it a sort of orange aura. I don’t really care if that’s a postcard cliché now, this has got to be the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in my life with my own eyes. My dad urged me to hurry up since he was already a few feet ahead of me but I didn’t really want to leave such a beautiful scene. A smile suddenly formed across my face since I knew exactly what to do.
I grabbed my camera with one hand and raised the viewfinder up to my eye, the scene already in focus in front of me.
FLASH!
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P.S. I know there isn't much dialogue here. I tried challenging myself this time around and attempted to make at least a chapter with barely any in order to properly convey emotions and backgrounds. Hopefully I did alright.
Oh and this is what his collar looks like.
And what the camera looks like (Sorry if that is huge)
I just like working at my own pace, I know having some input would be nice, but I write for the heck of it. Yeah I'd like to improve, but just at my own pace, not being hurried by my readers.