Sold a Friend. Grandfathers Tale
He understood me!
Looking back, it wasnt fun at allI soon realised what a foolish idea it had been.
I sold him. He thought it was a game, then realised Id actually given him away.
Life is odd like that; what might seem plenty for some is never enough for others. Some people want the world, while others would be content with a thick-cut sandwich and a sliver of sausage.
We lived differently back then, my family and Ithere were both lean and hopeful days.
I was only a boy at the time. My uncleUncle Arthur, my mums brothergave me a sheepdog puppy, and at that moment, I was the happiest boy in all of England. The puppy became truly attached to me, understood my words before Id barely spoken them, and looked up at me as if waiting, always waiting, for my command.
Down, Id say, pausing for just the right moment, and hed sink to the floor, his eyes steady on mine, as if hed lay down his life for me.
Serve, Id command, and hed hop up on his chunky legs, almost shaking with anticipation, eyes sparkling. Hed wait, hoping for a treat, a tasty morsel.
But there was nothing to reward him with. Those were hungry times for us, too.
They were quite the times.
Uncle Arthur, the same uncle whod given me the puppy, once whispered to me, Dont look so glum, lad. See how loyal and bright he is? Look, why not sell him? And once youve handed him over, just call him and hell come running backno one needs to know. Youll have some cash in your pocket and can treat yourself, your mum, and even him to something nice. Take a tip from your uncleI know best.
The idea seemed clever to me then. I didnt understand how wrong it was. After all, an adult had suggested it, and Id get to spoil myself a little.
So I leaned over and whispered into Loyals soft, shaggy ear that Id be giving him away but would call him back, and he must come running, slip away from strangers and return to me.
He understood me!
He barked, agreeing to the plan.
The next day, leash in hand, I took him to the local train station, where everyone gathered to sell thingsflowers, cucumbers, apples, whatever they could.
The crowds rushed off the train, haggling for bargains.
I stepped forward and tugged Loyal alongside, waiting. But no one came near.
Most people drifted away, but then a stern-faced man approached.
You standing here for someone, lad, or are you looking to sell your pup? he asked. Hes a sturdy oneIll buy him. And he pressed a fistful of pound notes into my palm.
I handed him the lead, and Loyal wagged his tail, giving a cheerful sneeze.
Go on, Loyal, off you go, old boy,” I whispered to him, Ill call you back soon, just remember.” And he trotted away with his new owner, while I, ducking behind the fence, watched where the man took my friend.
That evening, I brought home some bread, sausage, and a packet of sweets. Mum fixed me with a stern look.
Where did you get the food, Henry? You havent nicked it from someone, have you?
No, Mum, I just helped with some bags at the station and got a few quid for my trouble.
Well, good lad, come eat, then off to bed. Im worn out.
She didnt even ask about Loyalhe was never on her mind, really.
Uncle Arthur stopped by in the morning. I was readying myself for school, though truthfully, I just wanted to run off and bring Loyal home.
So, did you do it, thensell your mate? he laughed, tousling my hair. I shrugged away and kept silent.
Id hardly slept a wink and couldnt eat my breakfast; it stuck in my throat.
It wasnt fun at allI realised how daft the whole business was.
No wonder Mum never liked Uncle Arthur.
Hes a fool. Dont go listening to him, she used to say.
I grabbed my satchel and bolted.
It was about three streets away to the mans terrace, and I made the distance in no time.
There was Loyal, behind a tall gate, tied with a thick rope.
I called his name, but he just looked at me so sadly, resting his head on his paws, half-heartedly wagging his tail, trying to bark, but his voice was barely a croak.
Id sold him. Hed thought it was a game, but now he knew hed been given up.
Just then, the new owner came out and chided Loyal. He tucked his tail, and I knew it was hopeless.
That evening, I helped out again at the station, carrying bags for tips. Earnings were slim, but eventually, I scraped together enough. Difficult as it was, I returned to the house and knocked on the gate. The man peered out.
Oh, its you. What do you want, lad?
Sir, I I want to buy him back. I held out the moneythe very notes hed given me.
He narrowed his eyes, took the money silently, and untied Loyal.
Go on, take himhes been pining. Not much of a guard-dog, mind. But listenmaybe he wont forgive you for this.
Loyal gazed at me, wounded but hopeful.
Our little ruse had turned into a real test.
He shuffled over, licked my hand, and buried his nose against my coat.
Its been decades since, but Ive never forgotten the lesson: never, not even in jest, do you trade away a friend.
Mum was pleased, too, later on.
Last night, I was too tired to notice, but afterwards, I found myself thinkingwheres our dog gone? I realise now, hes familyhes Loyal, through and through!
Uncle Arthur hardly visited after that. Mum and I had gone off his jokes for good.
