“Happy Valentine’s Day, Cal,” Anita, Cal’s neighbor, offered with a glowing smile.
“Valentine’s Day is for suckers!” he snapped back, turning his key in the lock, entering his lonely 700-square-foot one-bedroom apartment, and slamming the door. He left Anita standing, stunned, in front of her heart-decorated door, her eyes bulging and her mouth hanging open.
I’ll apologize later; he committed inwardly.
“But Valentine’s Day is for suckers!” he said aloud. “They should write that on one of those heart-shaped candies with Valentine’s messages. I won’t fall for that romantic crap again. Ever! They could cancel it, and I’d be good.” He threw his keys onto the kitchen counter, reached into his stainless-steel fridge with his lanky brown arm, grabbed a bottle of purified water, and plopped down on the gray sofa sectional in his cramped living room.
His mind raced back to two years ago, to Carlie. His dream girl, or so he thought. After pursuing her for three months, she finally agreed to go out on a date with him—on Valentine’s Day. Cal was beyond cloud 9 when she said ‘yes’. His spirits catapulted beyond the stratosphere to cloud 100.
He picked her up in a luxurious Mercedes-Maybach S600 Pullman limo, wined and dined her at a pricey restaurant that required a reservation, coat, and tie, and crowned the night with a private fireworks display on the restaurant’s rooftop. He dipped into his limited savings to splurge on his girl. She was worth it. Turns out he was only a weapon in Carly’s revenge toolbox against her on-again-off-again boyfriend, Jazz.
Cal picked up the remote and flipped through the channels. “Oh, dang. They pick up the trash tomorrow,” he remembered. He pulled all the bags from the trash cans, dumped them into one of the larger bags, and headed for the dumpster behind the building.
That’s when he saw her, cowering in a corner, whimpering, her bones protruding through her animal flesh, her sad eyes pleading for mercy. Cal dropped his bag in disbelief at the vulnerable, malnourished creature in front of him, a black puppy. He wasn’t sure the breed, but it looked like a Black Labrador. He bent down slowly in front of her, speaking tenderly, and cautiously reached out his hand. After 10 minutes of coaxing, she hesitantly moved towards him.
He picked her up gently. “It’s okay. You’re safe.” Cal spoke soothingly. His heart sank at the stark reality of someone being so cruel to an animal and then abandoning it on Valentine’s Day, of all days, an insult to much injury.
He decided right then and there to keep her. He took her upstairs to his apartment, bathed her, and gave her some water. He wasn’t sure what to feed her or what kind of care she would need, but he knew someone who did—Anita, the neighbor next door, whom he’d insulted a few minutes earlier. “She works at a veterinary clinic,” he said aloud. “Surely, she’ll overlook my bitter drama and help a poor, innocent puppy.” At least he hoped.
“What should I name you?” he asked, holding her close to his heart and calmly stroking her back and forehead. He bit his lip as he realized the best and most obvious name—Valentine.
The End
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This Post Has 2 Comments
That was a sweet. What a way for a heart to be mended by focusing on someone or “something” else’s need.
So true, Ikiea, and very insightful!!🌻😇 I remember many times in my own life when I took my eyes off of myself and poured into others, and healing poured into me.