The Scrapbook of Dorothy Hamilton – Chapter 9

Skippy’s eyes flashed open.

 The feeling of fear was immediate. Where was he? What had happened? Why couldn’t he move his legs?

Based on where he was, the only thing he knew for sure was that he was buried. Only the sound of his rapid heartbeat was audible – not even the faintest sign of life could be heard around him. What a terrible emptiness, he thought to himself – it felt like the world had shrunk into utter darknes, and only he was left, immobile and helpless.

I suppose Skippy went through the same stages that any human would have gone through in that situation. First fear, then a sense of urgency and panic. After ten minutes or so, he realized it was pointless to struggle. What could he do? He was practically paralyzed – buried under some invisible rubble. Claustrophobia set in, and Skippy started breathing very quickly. The world seemed unreal, like some terrible nightmare. Was it a nightmare? Maybe he was still sleeping beside the fireplace. That’s the last thing he remembered.

No – there was more. There was a loud crash, as if an enormous beast had crashed into the house. But it was bigger. It wasn’t just the house. It felt as though the whole neighborhood had fallen right through the Earth. What did it all mean?

Eventually Skippy closed his eyes.

Several hours later, a ray of bright light penetrated the rubble. Skippy was in a weird place between sleep and waking. He could feel noises now. Somebody was crying and calling his name. “SKIPPY” the voice cried – but not like it had been called before. Still, he felt the urge to run towards the voice, just as he always did.

Skippy could not bear to open his eyes. The light was too bright now, and Skippy wanted to sleep. He was thirsty, and tired. His body wrenched in pain as he was pulled from the rubble. He was surprised to find that, even though his body had been freed, he still could not move.

Sleep was coming. He could feel it, and it was all that he wanted. Still, his instincts react to his name. “Skippy? How ya doin little buddy?” Slowly, Skippy opened his eyes and saw her: the female ape that had been gone for so long.

Skippy wondered why he didn’t smell her. In fact, Skippy could not longer feel anything at all except a strong impulse to sleep.

Again, Skippy underwent the same process that many humans do: he felt the totality of his life in a single beautiful moment. He remembered the box that he emerged from, he remembered playfully sniffing the female ape, the companion that had guided him through the rest of his life, who even shared her kills with him. He realized that it had always been her purpose to take him through life. Now he realized that the adventured of life was not meant to go forever. There was meant to be an end, and she was destined to be there with him at the end.

In the last moment of Skippy’s life – in that final and indivisible atom of time that bridges life and death – Skippy looked up from the arms of his owner, Dorothy, and realized that she had saved him.

Dorothy Hamilton, looking down into the eyes of her dying dog, gave a brave smile, for she too had made the same realization.

The End.