“It’ll be okay, Buddy,” I said rubbing his ears and pressing my face to his, trying to convince myself. I wished the gunfire would stop. We were both trained to stay calm under pressure, but it amazed me how in-control a dog could be when I was struggling to keep it together. His confidence reassured me.
We had to wait it out, so I sat down. He lay beside me, head on my knee. I wondered how animals defeated their natural instinct to run from danger.
An explosion shook the ground and dust fell.
I heard a commotion. Buddy stood and began pacing in front of me. He growled a low rumble and took a defensive stance. He barked a deep warning and bared his teeth. We were surrounded.
“Buddy! Zeke! You’re alright!?” Shane exclaimed. I sighed with relief and Buddy heeled not leaving my side. “Come on!” commanded Shane. We fell in line with the team, and he led us away from the chaos.
Buddy and I were gifted another day.
– Written for Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers: 57th Challenge. WC 174
Photo prompt provided by Pixabay.com.