I had just come back from the hospital. 12 stitches on my right arm demanding for some attention. Doctor had advised me rest for at least a week, but that was the last thing on my mind. My eyes were searching for Caesar, but he was nowhere to be seen. I was not used to such a silent welcome at home. Normally Caesar would have been all over me as soon as I entered the house. But it was not to be this time around, and I perfectly understood the reason behind it.
It was all my fault. I shouldn’t have loosened the grip. I shouldn’t have run after him when he got away. He might have come back instead of running around. What appeared as a game to him didn’t end well for us. I ran with all my energy when I heard the screeching of tyres and a painful howl. I reached for Caesar with trembling hands. He was alive, but his back was severely injured.