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Digger the Dog was the Only Friend I Needed
I used to have this pull-toy, a worn-out Digger the Dog, which I inherited from my sister. I tell you, that handsome big-eared hound went everywhere I did – across the backyard, down the street, and all around the house. Digger wasn't just a toy; he was my loyal companion.
However, in our household, Digger wasn't the lone canine. We had a grand total of three other dogs, and oddly enough, they had no love for Digger. Now, if you're familiar with the ways of dogs, this might not come as a shocker. As time went on, it was almost like Digger was asking for trouble, wandering into the domain of the rest of the pack.
One afternoon, after a long day at school, I came home to a sight that hit me like a ton of bricks. My trusty Digger had been torn apart, a victim of canine disapproval. It was heart-wrenching to see him in such a state, given that he had been a steadfast companion, though admittedly not much of a fighter.
We decided to give Digger a proper send-off and laid him to rest in the yard, a little makeshift burial. But alas, even this solemn gesture wasn't enough to protect his memory. The other dogs managed to uncover his resting place, a rather unfortunate and disrespectful fate.
Needless to say, that week was far from pleasant for me. Losing a friend, even if it was a toy one, is never easy.