Rainbow is running happily through the grass chasing butterfly. I always love when it tries to jump and clasp its mouth, trying to catches those butterflies. After some time running and playing by itself in the park, it will return to me wagging its tail like a cute chihuahua, despite the fact that it’s a pure German Shepherd breed. Its eyes are big and round, has that “begging” look. Its mouth seems like it’s smiling while it pants after all those exercises.
Rainbow likes to sits besides me in the lazy couch while I’m watching TV, usually asks to be stroked. It’s such a spoiled dog, since the very first day I bought it three years ago, after my husband David died. I felt less lonely with its company in this house which already feels almost empty.
One day, when I’m cleaning the house, I found an old camera David usually carried around everywhere with him on the corner of the room. I smiled remembering all those memories. Then I tried to turn on the camera. Oh silly me. The camera must have been run out of power after all these years.
But it turned on. I view the photo gallery. And I see the picture of myself sleeping in my bed. I giggled at this photo as David had weird hobby of taking picture of me sleeping.
Wait. My smile fades. Why in this picture I worn pajamas I bought two days ago? Before I have a chance to think it through, I heard rustling sound from my back. I turned over, and see Rainbow was sitting across the room. It’s not smiling.
“I can explain,” it said.