After Ben

[GingaDensetsuAleu]

This next story is a bit depressing. I wanted to experiment with the concept of grieving and grief from the perspective of a pet. Fortunately, it's only six chapters long, and then we can get on with another story that's a lot more fun. I wouldn't blame you if you chose not to read this one.

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Chapter 1: Grief

The funeral was lovely. People in suits filled rows of pews; flowers adorned the altar. The casket was small. Too small. It was a tragedy, what had happened. It was an accident; the car hadn’t been speeding, the driver just simply hadn’t seen him- hadn’t seen BEN. Didn’t see him run after the stray basketball. Didn’t see him see the car coming, try to stop, and fall, right into its path.
He hadn’t suffered. The doctors had said that, like it was supposed to make everything better. He’s gone forever, but at least he didn’t suffer.
The room cleared slowly, following the pallbearers as they carried the casket down the hall and out the door. Milo felt a gentle squeeze and a tug on his hand, and looked up. Mom gave a weak smile to him and nodded, gesturing. Milo stood up, drooping his head and letting his tail hang as he stood and followed her, out the door and across the street. Down rows and rows of headstones, to an open hole.
Milo squeezed his eyes shut as the wooden box slowly lowered down into the dirt and the framework around it was removed. One by one, people stepped forward to throw in flowers and say words. Most of Ben’s class was here. It wasn’t much consolation for Milo. He wanted everything to be done.
Mom nudged Milo, and he stepped forward, looking into the hole full of flowers. He dug into his collar and pulled out his squeaky bone, hesitating, then tossing it in. It was all he had to offer Ben to accompany him into the next world. He sniffled. “I’m sorry, Ben… I was supposed to protect you. I failed.” His voice broke, and he stepped back. He couldn’t say any more. He squeezed his eyes shut to force the tears out, feeling them run down his cheeks instead of pooling in his eyes.
The reception took place back in the church, in the reception room. Milo crawled under the table where the snacks were being served, hiding under the tablecloth, and hugged his knees, pressing his face into his arms and bawling until he fell asleep. He woke up to Mom gently shaking him awake. Everything had already been cleaned up; someone had moved Milo against the wall so they could break down the folding tables.
Milo held Mom’s hand as they walked out of the church, looking up at her. She looked like he felt; her hair was out of place, stray hairs poking up and out all over the place; dark circles sat under her eyes. She looked pallid and frumpy. Her eyes looked a million miles away. Milo crawled into the backseat of the car and lay down across the seat, staring at an empty chip bag on the floor. Salt and Vinegar. Ben’s favorite.
Neither Milo, nor Mom talked as they arrived home. Milo watched as Mom pulled one of the dozen casseroles brought over by the neighbors from the fridge and put it in the oven. The silence in the house was deafening. He could hear the big clock in the hall ticking away cheerily, as if the world hadn’t ended earlier this week.
When dinner was ready, Milo poked at the potatoes and ham with a fork. He wasn’t hungry. He HADN’T been hungry, not since the accident. After twenty minutes of poking at his food, Milo sighed and pushed the plate back, sliding down out of his chair and starting to go to his room before he remembered that he couldn’t. He hadn’t set paw in there since the accident. He couldn’t bear it. He’d shared the room with Ben. Just like he’d shared everything with Ben. They’d been brothers. They’d grown up together; they even shared the same birthday. For thirteen years, Milo and Ben had been nearly inseparable. When Ben had gone to school, Milo had stayed home, and greeted him at the bus every day. When Ben went to summer camp, Milo missed him every day, counting the days until his return.
And now he would never return, and Milo couldn’t force himself to accept it. He wanted to curl up somewhere and forget all about Ben. But how do you forget your entire world?
Milo stood outside his bedroom door, staring at the knob for a while, then turned and went back to the living room, sitting on the couch. After a while, Mom came and sat down beside him; he lifted his head and placed it in her lap. She absently reached down and stroked his head, letting her fingers play through his fur the way he used to like. It didn’t have the same joy as it used to.
A framed picture of Ben caught Milo’s eye, and he stared at it. Ben’s dusty brown hair, just a shade brighter than being able to be described as chocolate; his glittering green eyes, and the freckles, splashed across with dust as he posed with a bat in his baseball uniform. He’d wanted to be a professional player when he grew up, and he’d been good, too. Really good. Milo closed his eyes and looked away. He didn’t want to see him right now.
“It should have been me.”
He was surprised to hear himself say it out loud. He hadn’t meant to; it had just happened.
Mom paused in her stroking, her hand staying on his cheek. “Oh, honey, no…”
Milo pushed her hand away and sat up, sniffling angrily. “If I’d gone after the ball instead of him… he’d still be alive… he’d be HERE. It should have been ME!”
He pushed himself off the couch to storm away, realized he had nowhere to storm off TO, and slowly pulled himself back up. The German pinscher sighed and leaned back against Mom. “I’m sorry, Mom… I was supposed to keep him safe, and I-” He choked and started sobbing again.
She pulled him close, holding him and letting her fingers rub his short, wiry fur. “Oh, Milo… It’s not your fault. It was an accident, a horrible accident.” He could hear her voice breaking as she tried not to join him in tears. “You did everything right. These things happen sometimes…”
His ears went back. “... I miss him.”
Her hand slowed as it rubbed his arm, and then sped up again. “I know, I know… I miss him too.” She pulled him closer, until it felt like she was trying to pull him inside of her. He leaned his head on her shoulder quietly. The house returned to silence, and the clock in the hall ticked away.
Milo hated that clock right now. He wanted to go punch it, tear it to bits, and stop it ticking. He wanted to do a lot of things he knew he shouldn’t do. He wanted his brother back. After a while, he lay back down again, laying his head on Mom’s lap.
He wasn’t sure when he’d fallen asleep. One moment, he was snuggling with Mom on the couch, sharing in her misery, and the next he was waking up, a blanket thrown over him and tucked in around his edges, and the decorative throw pillow tucked in under his head where Mom’s leg had been. He gathered the blanket around himself like a cloak and climbed down to the floor, peering out the window into the dark. Mom’s car was gone, and the pink sunrise was starting to appear in the distance. She must have gone to work.
He wished he had somewhere he could go, where he could have something to focus on besides the emptiness in the house. This was summer vacation. He was supposed to have Ben all to himself. He checked the calendar. Monday. They had planned to go to the pool today. That wouldn’t be happening. Obviously.
Milo sighed and stared at his bowl. Mom had filled it with kibbles for him before she left. She was thoughtful like that. He COULD fill it himself, but she did it for him anyway, so he knew she cared about him.
He turned away without touching it and went back to the couch, climbing back up and laying back down. Maybe if he went back to sleep, he could dream about Ben and pretend, just for a little while, that he was still here.

[Amazee Dayzee]

Wow that is a really sad story but I am interested in seeing where you go from here with it so I will continue to read it. Thirteen is truly too young to die and even if it was an accident, I can imagine the driver also feeling guilty about what happened.

[GingaDensetsuAleu]

Chapter 2: Five Stages

“Hey… Milo… You didn’t touch your food.” Mom’s voice sounded above Milo. He’d known she was home; he wasn’t asleep. He was just laying on the couch, staring at the wall, just like he’d been doing all day. “You need to eat, sweetie.” She sat down next to him and stroked his head. “I know it’s hard, but starving yourself isn’t going to…” She trailed off for a moment. “It won’t help.”
Milo turned to face away from her. “I’m… I’m not hungry.”
She signed. “Honey, you HAVE to eat. You haven’t eaten anything since… the accident.”
He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. “No.”
She stroked his head quietly for a few minutes, then stood up quietly. “Come on, let’s go.” She reached down and scooped him up off the couch.
Milo gave a little whine. “Nooo…” He whimpered.
She shook her head and started carrying him to the kitchen. “No, come on. I already lost one of my babies, I’m not going to lose the other one.” She set him down at the table and grabbed his bowl of kibbles, setting it in front of him. “Eat.”
He put his ears back and looked up at her. “I’m not hungry…” He slouched in his chair and stared at the bowl of kibbles.
“I don’t care. I need you to eat. Just a little.” She sat next to him and put an arm on his shoulder. “Please.”
He looked at her face. She looked sad. As sad as he felt. He sighed and looked down at his bowl again, then reached out and grabbed a handful of the kibbles. After a moment of holding them, he sighed and started eating them. Mom relaxed a little. “Thank you, Milo. I know you’re having a hard time.”
Milo put his ears back and nodded quietly, continuing to eat. He could eat, for Mom, if she was that worried. Even if he wasn’t hungry, he could eat for HER.
She smiled weakly and ruffled his ears. “Good boy.”
He put his ears back and stared down at his handful of kibbles. “Mom, I… um…” He burst into tears. “I’m sorry, I miss him, I miss him so much…”
She sighed and leaned down to hug him. “I miss him, too…”
He hugged back silently. The next few days were spent in a haze; he ate when she gave him food, sat on the couch most of the day, and slept on the couch at night. He still couldn’t bring himself to go into his room. A part of him still expected Ben to walk in the door just like always, ask him to come out and play, and life would go on.
Except he never did, and life was going on without him.
Milo found himself looking out the window now and then and realized he was watching for Ben playing on the street. He put his ears back as he stared at the spot directly in front of the driveway. That was the spot where it happened. The accident played in his mind, over and over again, and he put his ears back, looking away.
He walked over to the table where his bowl sat, still half-full, then gave a frustrated growl, slapping his bowl and sending it skittering across the room. He slammed his fist on the table. “WHY?!” He screamed at the ceiling. “Why did it have to be HIM?!” He stomped his paws angrily and grunted. “Why?! WHY, WHY, WHY?!”
He sobbed and collapsed to the floor. “It should have been me! Take me instead!” He sobbed again, burying his face in his hands, his voice faltering. “T-take me… i-instead…”
He curled up there on the floor, hugging his knees and staring off into the distance, letting the tears flow. He’d gone through this cycle many times since the accident. He stared at the kibble scattered all over the floor and, after a few minutes, got up on his hands and knees and started to crawl around, picking up the pieces.
When he found his bowl, he put his ears back. It was broken into pieces, the ceramic finish marked in a spiderweb of pieces that had cracked but not fallen off. He threw it all away, the kibbles and his bowl, and stared at the trash can for a long time.
“He’s gone.” He heard his voice say, and his heart broke to hear himself acknowledge it. “He’s gone forever, and he’s never coming back.”
It felt good to accept it, and he felt guilty about that, too. He found that he’d been expecting that, as long as he never accepted it, it was never real, never TRUE. But it was true, and nothing could change that.
He had watched it happen. He watched it again now, in his mind, like a slow-motion horror film. He and Ben had been out on the driveway, playing basketball. Milo’s throw had rebounded too far, and the ball had bounced out into the road. Ben had called out that he’d get it and ran after it, trying to come to a stop between the parked cars at the side of the road to look for incoming cars. And that should have been the end of it. He’d done everything right; he’d looked out for oncoming cars BEFORE going after the ball.
But at the last second, he’d tripped over his own feet, and fallen out into the road. Milo had watched in horror as the oncoming car had pulled out past the parked cars just as Ben had fallen forward, right into its path. He heard the shout, the squealing of brakes, and it was over, just like that. Less than a second, and the world changed forever.
Milo choked back a sob as he remembered it now. It had been HIS throw that had caused the ball to roll into the street. HE should have been the one to go get it, not Ben. It was his fault. Everything was his fault.
He found himself standing in the hallway, outside his room. He put his hand on the doorknob, then pulled it back off again. Then put it on again. Then off again. He turned away. He couldn’t, he just COULDN’T. That had been Ben’s room, and Ben was gone. He couldn’t bear to see everything waiting for him to come back. His bed. His baseball trophies. His computer. His laundry, still waiting to be washed even now, a week after he’d left this world behind.
And Milo had caused all of it.

[Amazee Dayzee]

It is hard to see Milo blame himself when it truly was a tragic accident and something nobody could have foreseen. I hope that Ben's mother can convince him to get the counseling that he so desperately needs to move on from this.

[GingaDensetsuAleu]

Chapter 3: Guilty

Milo put his ears back and let himself outside. The sun felt warm on his fur, and he frowned. He didn’t want to go out, but Mom had insisted that he would feel better if he went out, so he had.
He stood in the front yard for a few minutes, but the sight of the scene of the accident was making him feel worse, so he decided to go for a walk. He left the yard and went down the street, heading toward the dog park. Every now and then, he passed another dog. He would swear they were looking back over their shoulder at him, whispering to each other when they were in groups. His ears went back.
He glanced back once when a dog he somewhat knew went past and saw her rapidly turn to face front again. So it wasn’t in his head. They WERE staring. He put his head down and kept walking. He tried to ignore the stares he was getting and the whispers he could hear. When he got to the dog park, he turned off the sidewalk and wandered across the grass to sit by himself under a tree.
“- Let his human die like that. It’s awful.” He caught the edge of a conversation from somewhere nearby and flinched. He leaned aside and peeked around the tree. A dog he knew was standing in a group of his friends, gossiping. They didn’t see him. “What kind of dog fails to protect their human? It’s pathetic.”
Milo put his ears back and leaned back around the tree, placing his head against the trunk. The other dog’s voice started getting closer.
“If I had failed so spectacularly as a dog, I would just kill mysel- oh.”
Milo didn’t look up as the dog noticed him. After an awkward moment, he heard him and his friends scurry away. He sighed quietly and put his ears back. “It’s true, though… I’m a horrible excuse for a dog.” He mumbled to himself, looking up to watch them leave. He was surprised to find that not ALL of them had left. One of them, a coonhound with a mix of brown and white fur, was still standing there, watching him.
“For the record, I don’t think you’re a bad dog. I think there was just an accident. It could have happened to anybody, and it’s not your fault.” He reached out to put a hand on Milo’s shoulder.
Milo shrugged him off. “It WAS my fault. I should have gone and gotten the ball. I shouldn’t have let him-”
“I’m going to stop you right there. There’s no way you could have known that would happen.” He sat down next to Milo and sighed, leaning against the tree.
Milo stared at him for a few moments, then sighed and leaned back. “Look, I’d rather be alone. I’ve been having a bad couple of weeks.”
The coonhound shook his head and let his shoulder brush Milo’s. “And that’s why you shouldn’t be alone. You don’t have to talk to me if you don’t want to. Just pretend I’m not here, if you like. But I’m not leaving you alone.”
Milo sat there for a while, trying to ignore the coonhound, but he could still feel him, brushing against him occasionally as the two sat together. After a while, Milo thought he might burst if he didn’t tell somebody what was on his mind. “I… saw it happen. The accident, I mean. I was standing not ten feet away. The sound it made when the car hit him…” He shuddered, remembering the sound. Like a wet snapping noise. Not dissimilar to a handful of fresh celery stalks being snapped, all at once.
“That must have been horrible for you. What did you do after?” He didn’t look at him, and Milo was glad for that. He wasn’t sure he could handle talking to someone who was LOOKING at him right now.
“What do you think I did? I ran to him! I yelled out for help!” He sat forward and waved his arms in a wild gesture. “My brother had just been hit by a car! I had to make sure he was okay!” After a moment, his ears went back, and he lay back again. “But he was… He was already…” He swallowed. Now wasn’t the time for tears. If he even had any left.
“So you did everything you could have done. As soon as the accident happened, you called for help and you went to check on him. There was nothing else you COULD have done, so it wasn’t your fault.” He nudged him. “I know, you think that if you’d just done it differently, he’d still be here, and maybe it’s true. But you didn’t do anything WRONG. You had no way to know he would trip, and you had no way to know there was a car coming.”
Milo put his ears back and glared at him. “Could you stop? I came here to try and get my mind off of it.”
“Okay.” He leaned back again and let his shoulder brush Milo’s.
Milo sighed and rubbed his face with a hand. “I just… Everybody’s staring at me. Dogs I thought were my friends are gossipping about me. And I don’t know how much more I can take.”
“And you feel like everybody blames you for what happened.” He looked up at the treetops quietly.
“Yes. No. I don’t know, it’s…” Milo sighed and rubbed at his face again. “It’s complicated. Obviously, I’m upset about it. He was my brother. We’d spent our whole lives together. And now, I don’t know what to do without him. I don’t know who I AM without him. It’s always been us two, together. I… kind of thought it would ALWAYS be us two. Or at least that I would go first.”
The hound nodded quietly. “You were always together, and now you’re not, and you don’t know how to cope.”
He hesitated, then suddenly turned to face him. “Mom asked you to talk to me.”
There was an awkward pause. “She may have come by my dad’s clinic and asked if he could have some words with you, and I may have volunteered to do it for him.”
“You’re a therapist! Mom thinks I need therapy?!” Milo stood up and put his ears back, feeling a little hurt.
“No, no, I’m not a therapist. Well, sort of. I’m a therapy dog, but I don’t have a license to- Look, she was just worried about you. Apparently you haven’t been eating, and you’ve not been sleeping in your bed?” He stood up and tilted his head.
Milo hesitated. “I… my bed’s in… In Ben’s room. I can’t…” He trailed off, then shook his head, squeezing his eyes closed for a few moments. “The couch is fine, I can sleep on the couch.” He started walking away. The other dog followed him.
“Milo, you need to start getting back to normal as much as possible. Sleep in your bed, eat at mealtimes. I know, it’s hard, but you can’t keep starving yourself.”
“Leave me alone!” He stomped off toward the entrance to the dog park, grumbling.
“Promise me you’ll try. It doesn’t have to be all at once. You can start by just… going in your room. Look in there.” He jogged to keep pace.
Milo snorted. “FINE! If I promise to give it a try, will you leave me alone?!” He turned to face him crankily.
He gave a sigh and reached out to take Milo’s hand. “It’s a start. I’ll leave you alone for the moment.” He turned to go, then paused. “By the way… my name’s Cooper.”

[Amazee Dayzee]

Happy to see that Milo is getting the help for his grief and guilt that he needs in order to accept what happened and know it wasn't his fault. Honestly I think he kind of does need therapy because the way it sounded before meeting Cooper to me Milo was getting closer to the point of deciding to self-harm.

[GingaDensetsuAleu]

Chapter 4: The Room

Milo put his ears back and stared at the door. He knew what lay beyond, but he couldn’t bring himself to open the door. He’d been standing here for nearly an hour, trying to force himself to grab the doorknob and look inside. A few minutes longer, and he gave up, turning and going back to the living room.
He climbed up onto the couch and hugged his knees, thinking about Cooper’s words. It wasn’t his fault, Cooper had said. He wasn’t sure if he believed it, but it was a nice thought. It made him feel slightly better when he thought that there was nothing he could have done to help.
But he couldn’t reconcile it with his heart. He still felt that he could have done something. He wasn’t sure what, but SOMETHING.
After a while, Mom came home from shopping and looked at him on the couch. “Home from the park already, sweetie? That didn’t take very long.”
He glared at her. “You had a psychiatrist come after me.”
She sighed. “I’m worried about you. Ben’s death really hit you hard. You won’t eat unless I make you, you’ve been sleeping on the couch… I just wanted him to help you.”
Milo’s ears went back, and he looked away. “You didn’t have to keep it a secret. You could have just TOLD me.”
“Would you have gone if I had?” She glanced at him, then resumed putting the groceries away.
He hesitated. “... No. No, I guess I wouldn’t have.” He looked down. “I’m sorry.”
She sighed and walked over to him, reaching down to ruffle his ears. “So you spoke to him?”
“Sort of. He sent his dog so he could get closer to me.”
“And? How was it?”
He grumbled. “He said it wasn’t my fault and that I needed to start trying to move on.”
“Sounds like a very wise dog.” She nodded approvingly, then walked back to the grocery bags and tossed him a squeaky toy, just like the one he’d put on Ben’s grave. This one still had the tag on it. “Maybe you should listen to him.”
Milo squeaked the squeaky toy a few times, then sighed and watched Mom return to putting away the groceries. He put his ears back and grunted, then sighed. He slid down off the couch, leaving the new squeaky toy behind, then entered the hallway with a sense of trepidation.
He stood in front of the door again and stared at it. Signs on the door declared “Ben and Milo’s place- no girls allowed,” “Enter at your own risk,” or “Welcome to downtown Coolsville, population, 2.”
After several minutes standing in front of the door, Milo took a deep breath and put his hand out, turning the knob.
The door opened easily, once Milo could make himself try. It swung open, and released a flood of scents from inside. He could smell dirty laundry, a little stuffiness from the door being closed so long, and- most importantly- Ben.
Milo’s eyes filled with tears as he slowly stepped inside. He hadn’t even noticed how Ben’s scent had faded out from the house entirely until he got a faceful of it. He put his ears back and looked around at the room, just how they had left it.
The walls were painted blue, with sponge-dabbed clouds here and there. Decal baseballs filled the spaces between at random. The floor was littered with dirty laundry, toys, magazines, books, and all manner of other belongings. As Milo turned on the light, he saw the beds- Ben’s larger bed, baseball sheets disheveled, and his own basket at the foot of it, looking as soft and inviting as ever. Ben’s computer was still on, the screensaver slowly bouncing an ever shifting shape around at random.
Shelves on one wall displayed Ben’s baseball trophies from his various teams throughout the years, from tee ball when he was very young to second place from the middle school league. Milo stared at them. The collection was complete now, he would never again add to it.
Milo’s paws stepped around obstacles on the floor almost on their own as he crossed to his bed and climbed into it, pulling the blanket around himself and burying his nose into it. He could still smell Ben in it, from when he had occasionally come to cuddle with Milo. He wouldn’t be doing that anymore.
Slowly, the cloud of grief in Milo’s soul settled. Instead of being an all-encompassing, all-consuming, completely debilitating feeling of pain and misery, it became a still very potent, yet not omnipresent puddle, sitting on the surface of Milo’s heart. It hurt still, but he found he could set it aside, ignore it for a little while, and feel other things.
For example, right now, he felt hungry. For the first time since the accident, Milo felt like he needed to eat, and it was unpleasant- he’d only eaten just enough to make Mom happy the past few days- but he could focus on it and ignore the hole where Ben was supposed to be for a little while. He wondered if, as time went on, it would get easier. He suspected it would, but it would never stop hurting.
Milo turned, scrubbing the tears from his eyes, and found Mom standing in the doorway. “... Mom? Do we have any of that ham and potatoes casserole left from Mrs. McGillicuddy? I’m hungry.”
Mom smiled weakly down and kneeled to get closer to Milo, putting her arms out. He ran to her and threw his arms around her in a hug, sniffling.
She kissed his head. “I’ll whip us up something, shall I?” Her arms continued to squeeze Milo gently for a few moments before she let go.
Milo nodded and watched her get up and head toward the kitchen. He turned toward the bedroom and looked inside. He didn’t think he could sleep in there. Not yet. But…
He went back in and picked up his basket, grunting with the effort, and hefted it toward the door. He set it in the hallway just long enough to close the door behind him, then picked it up again and carried it into the living room, finding a place that was out of the way to set it down. His basket was better than the couch. He would worry about finding a better place for it later. Baby steps, just a little at a time.
After a few minutes of delicious smells filling the house, Mom called Milo into the kitchen. He climbed up to the table and sat there, looking up at her quietly as she set down a plate of food in front of him. It wasn’t much, ground beef mixed with noodles, but to Milo, it was the most delicious food he’d ever eaten. He found, partway through the meal, that he was able to give a genuine smile. He gave it to Mom. “Thank you, Mom… It’s delicious.”

[Amazee Dayzee]

Hopefully Milo is beginning to see the light at the end of the tunnel and starts to heal from Ben's loss. You said this was only 6 chapters and this one is chapter 4.

[GingaDensetsuAleu]

Chapter 5: Moving on

“What are YOU doing here, Milo? You’re out of the club. You violated the club’s oath.” Muffin, an Australian Kelpie, stepped aside and blocked Milo from entering the clubhouse.
Milo huffed and tried to sidestep him, and he stepped with Milo to keep himself between him and the door. “No. You violated the oath- ‘to protect my family no matter the cost, and allow no harm befall them.’ You’re out.”
“I’d rather hear it directly from the council, if it’s all the same to you. Let me in.” Milo snorted. He knew he looked terrible- his eyes were sunken and puffy, his fur was matted in places, and he was dirty. He probably should have cleaned himself up before coming.
“You can’t come in. Members only.” He narrowed his eyes at Milo and sneered. “We don’t want anybody who’d let their humans die.”
Milo flinched. “I have a right to see the council. I’ve been in this club just as long as anybody else. I know the bylaws.”
Muffin glared at him for a few moments, then snorted and stood aside. “Fine. But don’t come crying to me when they have you escorted out.”
“Thank you.” Milo snorted and entered the clubhouse. Inside was mostly one big room, where a podium was set up on a stage and a few rows of folding chairs in front of it. A few dogs were inside, sitting in the front row of folding chairs, while another dog was standing at the podium with a list, going through some matters that they considered important. He stopped when Milo entered.
“What are you doing here?” One of the dogs stood up. “You violated the Good Old Dog’s Oath, you have been barred from the club.
“I need to speak to Darren.” Milo huffed, nodding to one of the dogs in the front row. He stood up and started towards Milo.
“Continue the meeting without me. I’ll be back once I’m finished.” He grabbed Milo’s arm and led him backstage. “Milo… I just want to say, for what it’s worth, I was against kicking you out. I know it was an accident.” He let go of him and looked him over. “You look terrible.”
Milo nodded. “I’ve felt better, honestly.”
“Why are you here? You know they kicked you out of the club.” He reached over to touch Milo’s cheek. “You’ve been crying.”
“I’m okay.” Milo nodded quietly. “I’ve just been having a hard time with… everything. I just wanted to check up with you and let you know that I think I’m going to be okay. I’ve started coming to terms with everything.”
The white retriever hugged Milo. “I’m glad. I’d heard you weren’t doing very well.”
“I wasn’t.” He put his ears back. “I’m… I’m still not. But I’m doing better than I was. I’ve decided to take puppy steps, start working myself back into somewhat of a normal routine again. It’s going to be a long time before I FEEL normal again, but… I’m working on it.”
Darren’s eyes looked over Milo. “Okay… Don’t be afraid to come for me anytime you need anything. You know where I live.” He hesitated. “I think you’d better go. You know how Bino gets when he decides not to like someone.”
Milo nodded, taking one last look around the Good Old Dog’s Club. “I’m not sure why I kept coming here, anyway. Ever since the incident with Fido, it’s stopped being a fun meetup and started being all politics and Bino grandstanding.”
Darren gave a little smile and patted his shoulder. They went their separate ways, Milo out the back door and Darren back to the main room.
Milo glanced over his shoulder at the clubhouse, then snorted and started home. It was warm out today, and Milo paused on the sidewalk to close his eyes and let the sun warm his fur for a few moments before continuing home. Somehow, getting the club off his chest made him feel better, too, like a weight had been removed from his stomach. He wondered if it had been there all along, or if Ben had put that there too, with his passing. He supposed he would never really know.
At home, Milo took a shower, scrubbing off two weeks of tears and dirt and whatever else had accumulated in his fur, then brushing the mats out of his fur to make himself look better. To his surprise, it also made him FEEL better. How much of him feeling terrible was tied to him being a mess? He clipped his collar back on and put his towel in the wash, then gave a sigh.
The puddle of grief was still there in the back of his mind, open and raw and very much present, but somehow, it felt like it was more distant now, like it had shrunk, or maybe more like it had started to be covered. He wasn’t sure. He just knew that, now that he had gotten himself cleaned up, he had one more thing he had to do today, and he couldn’t do it here.
“I’m going out again, Mom!” He called as he walked out the door.
Mom gave a weak smile as she watched him leave, then gave a relieved sigh.
Milo walked straight to the dog park and looked around. He didn’t see who he was looking for, so he made his way back to the tree he’d been sitting under before to wait. He didn’t have to wait long before someone sat next to him and brushed shoulders with him. “You cleaned yourself up. You look nice.”
Milo glanced over at Cooper and gave a weak smile. “Thank you… for giving me that little push I needed.”
Cooper glanced at him with a smile, then looked up at a cloud that was drifting by overhead. “You went in your room, I take it?”
He nodded quietly and looked up at the same cloud. “I couldn’t stay long… but I went in and looked around. I half expected to see Ben there, sitting on the bed and waiting for me.”
“And what did you find in there?” He glanced sidelong at him knowingly. He knew the answer. Milo knew that he knew the answer. But he knew he still had to say it out loud.
“Nothing. Just memories. He wasn’t there.” He paused quietly. “I knew he wouldn’t be. But it was still disappointing. I took my bed and left the room like he left it.”
“It’s a start. You saw what you needed to see, and now you can start to heal.” He nudged him. “You can move on.”
Milo nodded quietly and looked down at the grass he was sitting on. “The future is scary. I’ve never known the world where Ben wasn’t there. I have no idea who I’m going to be in a month. Six months. A year from now. He meant everything to me. He was my reason for existing.”
Cooper watched him quietly for a few moments. “Well… You’ve still got your other human. Your mom, right?”
Milo’s ears perked. “That’s right… I bet she still needs me. I bet she needs me even more now.”
“If anybody really understands what you’re going through, it’s her. She might not show it, but I guarantee she’s hurting too. So for now… maybe you can be there for her?” He smiled at him. “Just until you find something else to live for.”
“I think I can do that.”

[Amazee Dayzee]

I am glad that Milo is finally taking smalls steps to get back into a normal routine. I would like to think that at the end of the story that Milo will start living for his mother and help her if she ever ends up struggling.

[GingaDensetsuAleu]

And that about wraps it up for this story. Like I said, just a short one. Thank you to all of you that stuck around for it, and I look forward to seeing you next week when I start a new story!

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Chapter 6: Echos

Mom picked up her purse and took a look inside to make sure she had everything. She was looking much better now, weeks later, but there was still a sadness behind her eyes. Milo could feel the same sadness behind his own eyes, that sometimes came out when he saw something that reminded him.
It had been a few weeks now, and life had started to shift into a new normal. Mom went to work during the days, and Milo would do his best to make her life easier; he would clean the house, wash dishes, and do anything he could to help Mom out. In his free time, he would hang out with a now greatly-reduced circle of friends, just the ones who hadn’t treated him like an outcast when the wound was fresh.
The neighborhood gossip had moved on, of course, but that didn’t mean Milo was going to forgive the dogs he’d called friend who had abandoned him when he needed them most. Not when they weren’t even sorry.
Mom put her purse over her shoulder and kneeled to put her hand on Milo’s shoulder. “Hey, Kiddo. I’d like you to start cleaning your room today. ONLY if you’re ready, I don’t want to push you, but…” She trailed off.
Milo nodded. “I’ll… do what I can. It might take a few weeks.”
“Thank you, kiddo.” She kissed him on the head. “I have to go to work.” She stood up quietly. “I’ll bring home some supper, okay?”
Milo nodded up at her. “Okay. Thanks, mom.” He watched her go, then put his ears back and looked nervously at the door in the hallway. He’d been in there a few times now, to collect this or that, or just to reminisce, but it was largely how it had been left.
Halfway through the day, he took a deep breath and sighed. He couldn’t stall any longer. He had to go in and start somewhere.
He paused outside the door and closed his eyes, steeling himself for the empty room he was going to find. Even now, almost two months after the accident, he expected to find Ben sitting on the bed when he opened the door.
Which is why he almost didn’t believe it when he opened the door and found Ben sitting on the bed.
He looked odd; he had a faint glow about him, and he was slightly transparent, like he wasn’t quite there. He looked at Milo as Milo stood in the doorway, his maw gaped, and then Milo ran forward and tried to hug Ben. His arms passed right through him.
“Milo.” Ben’s voice sounded slightly faint. “I miss you too, buddy. How’ve you been?”
Milo’s ears went back, and his eyes watered a little. “How are you HERE? I mean, you’re here, but you’re NOT here, and…” He choked back a gentle sob. “I miss you so much.”
Ben looked down at him sadly. “It’s… well… I don’t want to say it’s a haunting, because that would mean I’m a ghost… I’m more like… an echo. They let me come down just this once, to give you some closure.” He reached down and set his hand on Milo’s hand. Milo couldn’t feel it, not really, but he imagined that he could. It felt wonderful.
Milo smiled weakly and scooted up onto the bed to look at Ben, tears still in his eyes. After a few moments, he finally asked the question that had been on his mind all this time. “Did it… hurt?”
Ben paused for a few moments, then nodded. “It did. But only for a second, and then it was over. Like getting a shot, but a lot worse. Just a quick, hard pain in my neck, and then it was all over. I was dead before my body hit the ground.”
Milo nodded. He felt much better knowing for sure that he hadn’t suffered. The doctors had said so, but it was better to hear it directly from him. He wanted to lean in against Ben one last time, but he knew he couldn’t. After all, he had passed right through him when he’d tried to hug him. “What’s it like in Heaven?” He felt sure that Ben was in heaven. He wasn’t sure how he knew, he just knew that he knew.
“It’s wonderful. Everything is exactly how you would think it is. It’s paradise. There’s no pain or suffering, everything is free, and you can do whatever you want, all day, every day. You can even have Christmas every day if you want. I’ve been playing baseball with some of the greatest players ever, Babe Ruth and Shoeless Joe and all of them. It’s been amazing.” He was quiet for a moment. “You’re there, too, you know. Well... the you that will eventually come. Not for a while yet. But Heaven is timeless, so you’re already up there.”
Milo smiled gently. So Ben wouldn’t be missing him until the end of his life. That was good news. “I can’t wait to be the me that’s there. N- not that I’m going to make it happen early. I mean… I had considered it, for a while… right after the accident, but… No, I can wait.”
Ben gave a laugh. It was a sound Milo had thought he’d never hear again; he saved it up in his heart, intending to cherish it the rest of his days.
“Why didn’t you come earlier? I was really hurting…” Milo put his ears back.
Ben smiled weakly. “If I had, it would have done more harm than good. Coming too soon could have stopped you from ever moving on. So I had to wait, until you were ready to move on, had really accepted that I was gone, before I could visit you.” He was quiet for a few moments. “My time is almost up. Milo… I have to go soon.”
Milo put his ears back. “I… I understand. You can’t stay forever.” He stared at him for a few moments, before he remembered what else he had to say. “I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you. I did everything I could, but it just wasn’t enough.”
Ben smiled at him. “You did your best. You were with me up until my very last second. And for that… I’m incredibly grateful. Milo, you’re a good dog. A very good dog.”
Milo’s tail started to wag, and he did his best to pretend to hug Ben. Ben’s form started to fade out, and his voice started to get even fainter. “Milo, I’m sorry I had to go so soon. I’ll see you again when you’ve finished living your life, okay?”
Milo forced a little grin. “Okay. I’ll come and find you as SOON as I get there, I promise.”
“As soon as you’re here. I’ll hold you to that.” His smile faded out as he disappeared. His voice whispered back to Milo just before vanishing. “I love you, Milo.”
Milo sat there on the bed for a few moments, sniffling, staring at the spot where Ben had been. He wasn’t sure it had been real, but then again, he wasn’t sure it really mattered whether it was or not. Then, he slowly slid off the bed and stood, looking around the room. He decided to start with Ben’s dirty laundry, picking it all up and placing it in the hamper. That seemed like a good start. After that… Milo decided that he was going to have the best life he possibly could. For Ben.

THE END