(Felt like posting my holiday assignment on here, tell me what u think :D )

Brushing my hand through the pampas, the feathery white stalks parted for me like subjects to a king and queen... except perhaps, it was just the queen now. The gravelly path that cut straight across through the fields was wide enough to fit at least two and the silent gap beside me was deafening. Your gap. On my right, you'd bound along, tongue hanging as your tail wagged wildly with the blue sky reflecting in your warm amber eyes. The breeze would ruffle your fluffy fur and I'd laugh and smooth down the ruffled black hairs on your head, stroking your velvety black ears and tickle your white chest. Now, clouds frown and the sun has vanished as if it couldn't stand to gaze on a world without you. 

I still remember the day Dad walked out silently to the car, the hint of a grin desperately tugging on his lips and when he came back in with a squealing, snuffling, barking little box, I could hardly believe my eyes when I saw you. Mum laughed with the camera in hand, singing "Happy birthday" and I cuddled you as my eyes watered. After the cake, I carried you out to show you the backyard and around the house, smiling uncontrollably at your little pink tongue that wouldn't stop licking my hand. My eighth birthday was one of the best days of my life.

As your legs strengthened and you could run like the wind, Mum suggested that we went for a walk in the fields towards the old oak tree on the hill. She showed us the path through the pampas that led out to a carpet of grass where we could play ball and have picnics. A little further away sat the hill where the old oak stood, its grey gnarly branches staring out watching the moors. Larks would soar in summertime and we'd sit beneath the oak, watching the birds and the moors. We'd wait till sunset before heading home where Dad would have a t-bone ready for you. For the next ten years, we ran through the pampas, played ball after school, sat down beneath the oak and sometimes when I cried because exams and people were just too much, you'd rub your head against mine as if to say "It's ok, I understand" and you'd let me hug you tight. You were my best friend; every time I had a secret or a crush that I was dying to tell but didn't know who, you were there to listen. Even when I lost a bracelet or a pen that rolled off my desk and disappeared, you'd help me find it with your nose down and head high, tail wagging when you found it. 

I still remember that time you cut your paw on some shattered glass from a broken bottle of whiskey. We were racing through the fields and you shot ahead of me, when suddenly you stopped and yelped. Seeing you hopping backwards with your weight on your left side, I was terrified that you'd been bitten by a snake. Fortunately, it was just glass but seeing the broken remains of the bottle that cowered behind a frond of grass filled me with a fiery rage. I carried you home, making a few stops to readjust my arm underneath you and I kissed your head, telling you that it'd be ok and that I was here for you, always. Dad drove us to the vet as Mum and I comforted you in the back, stroking and petting you as you whimpered. 

The deep cut across the pad of your paw was stitched up and we were told to keep you at home for a week to let your paw heal. During your stay at home, we spent our afternoons out in the yard and watched tv when it rained. I remember how you hated being stuck at home; low growls rumbling in the back of your throat and how you'd paw at the door, whining. I felt horrible and helpless but I knew it was for your own good and I was glad you realized that too.

Eventually, the edge of the pampas field met with the soft green grass of early summer. A few larks circled overhead and the sky was calm and blue, a pair of clouds drifting by like swans on water. I breathed in the scents of flowers that floated on the gentle breeze and exhaled. Back then, we'd have finished our race and you'd gaze up at me, panting proudly. I looked around at the seemingly endless expanse of grass and wondered where all the wild rabbits had gone. Did they rejoice now that they were no longer chased? Did they miss your bark? Well, I do. Mum used to complain about having to drag a kilo of food back home from the shops but now she just sighs and says how strangely light the shopping is. Dad no longer comes home early and when he watches the dogs bark on tv, he'd sigh and say how quiet the house is. The pattering of your claws on the floorboards is filled with the heavy silence of your absence. Your water bowl sits forlornly next to the bookshelf, untouched, your collar and leash curled up in the cold metal. Your bed now lies in the attic and the furry rug you loved to sit on is left empty in front of the tv. Everything feels so drained of colour that the shining gold of your name tag seems to fade to grey. 

Making my way towards the hill, I felt the soft soil sink a little beneath my shoes and as I reached the old oak, I settled down in between the tough roots that slithered deep underground. I used to wonder how far those roots stretched, a network of branches that made up a hidden parallel tree. I wonder if you can see the hidden tree, now that you're underground. I hope you're not lonely down there and I wonder if the rabbits are down there too, I heard their tunnels to their burrows lead pretty far down there. Beside me used to be the patch of worn ground, your spot as you used to watch the moors. Now, a subtle mound of soil marks your grave and a single primrose Mum picked for you from the yard grows on top. I stroke the fragile white petals and they remind me of your frail frame the year before. Your thick and fluffy fur was reduced to a thin and shaggy coat yet despite aging, the brightness of your eyes never faded. The bright yellow center that gazed up at me reminds me of the way you'd look at me; warm, proud, loving. 

I've been coming to the oak every day since you left yet it still seems like yesterday, you were just a puppy on wobbly legs with a tail that wagged incessantly. Back then I could tell you about my day but now only the oak and the breeze seem to listen to me. No one understands me like you do and I can't even see or hug you anymore. I've always loved being alone with you but I loath it when it's just me. Alone.

"Oh Ash, I miss you so much," I whisper.