The chatbox has been hidden for this page. It will reopen upon refresh. To hide the CBox permanently, select "Permanently Toggle Cbox" in your profile User Settings.
This chatbox is hidden. To reopen, edit your User Settings.
Yet that did nothing to stop the tears from coming.
His lungs burned from the short gasping breaths that escaped him as Hazael hunched over the small, fragile body that had grown stiff in the night.
A puppy, only a few weeks old, had perished. From what cause? The Israeli did not know. It could have been a rouge illness that struck the creature down before it had a chance to properly stand on its wobbly legs. A draft could have snuck under the door and froze the babe when it wandered too far from its mother’s warmth… or more devastatingly, maybe it had been a mistake by the inexperienced parent herself. This was her first litter, after all, she didn’t know the dangers that lurked in not checking where she laid down for sleep. It could have been any of these things or perhaps none of them. Maybe Yahweh had decided that it was time for the little one to leave. As a way to save them from the harshness of the world? As punishment for Hazael? HAd he committed some great sin that was paid in the blood of this young pharaoh hound?
He didn’t know. He didn’t know.
The young Israeli carefully reached out to cradle the lifeless form of the dog he had helped bring into this world and raised until this cruel morning. Small yips from the pup’s still living brothers and sisters joined in the chorus of words flowing from Hazael’s lips; instinctual from all the years that he had said them for those in his community that had passed like this little one had.
“ Exalted and hallowed be God’s great name in the world which God created, according to plan.” The words of the Kaddish had been ingrained into him from the time that he had been a small child and he could remember vividly all the times he had to say it for a friend’s grandfather in the temple. Although the prayer was one of mourning, it was also a declaration of hope; a reminder that Yahweh did not do what he did out of cruelty and that alone brought small comfort to Hazael as he glanced over the pup’s lifeless form. Through the natural blur that came from the tears and his own failing vision if there were any signs of what struck the youngster down so that Hazael may protect his siblings from facing the same fate. There were none.
One moment the pup had been breathing.
The next it had been not.
Hazael tried to focus on the prayer as he walked away from the whelping box, cradling the precious bundle as he went to his small stack of supplies in the corner. As he gathered a simple dirty rag around the pup, the only cloth that could be spared in a family of ten, the words from Hazael continued, “ May God’s majesty be revealed in the days of our lifetime...”
He grew somewhat silent as he sent about tying the rag around the tiny form, sparing him any further from the heartwrenching sight. The kennels were only filled with his light sniffles and the subdued mewlings of the other nearby pups who were, thus far, oblivious to the tragedy that had struck their tiny family during the night. A quiet whine could be heard from Ofir, the pup’s mother, but she gave no other indication that she too was aware of the loss as she tended to the others. That made it easier, Hazael supposed… but even he knew that nothing made these sorts of things stingless. The boy knew that this was part of his trade. The loss was to be expected and not every dog he raised would make it past puppydom. He tried to remind himself of this, but it was so hard to recall when confronted with the harsh reality of life. It wasn’t fair or kind and could end in an instant, without reason.
But the Kaddish he muttered gave it a reason. Yahweh’s reason. It didn’t matter that the sacred words were being said over a dog; an act that may have seen him smacked if Hazael’s father knew of it. Saying it was the only thing that made this sort of thing less painful for the boy as he gathered the tiny bundle and a small shovel, kept in the very back of his supplies. Hidden from sight, but occasionally needed for this purpose.
Stepping out of the kennel into the early dawn light, Hazael was grateful that only his Eemas were awake in the big house. That spared him from the pointed questions of his younger siblings or the painful jeers from his elder ones. This task was hard enough as it was. He didn’t need relatives who didn’t understand the pain that Hazael was going through to add to his anguish.
“ and to the life of all Israel -- speedily, imminetly” The words were deafening in the morning's silence as Hazael made his way around the back of the kennel. Out here there was a small smattering of stones of different sizes and colors with only an equal distance away from each other for uniformity. Hazael’s knees practically gave ou as he collapsed upon the dirt and carefully put the makeshift shroud to the side of him. With the shovel, he began to hack at the arid soil that was being moistened by the few tears that made it down the tracks formed on his cheeks. It may have been an easy task if he hadn’t been so impaired by his gasping lungs and blurry sight. Even with these drawbacks, though, it felt that barely a moment had truly passed before Hazael had a small dent in the dirt that was large enough to serve the grim purpose that he wishes he didn’t need it for.
“ To which we say:” The words were caught in his throat as he carefully put the tiny bundle into the grave and began to refill the earth before the emotional toll on the boy became too much to bear. He was gentle with the task, giving the lost pup the care that it deserved as a creature of Yahweh, even though many others in his position would have left the carcass to rot in the street. Not Hazael. He cared too much to allow himself to take such an easy route. After all, in many ways, the pups were his children. They deserved so much more than this when one of them was cast down before their time.
Refilling was easier than digging and soon all earthly signs of the young Pharaoh hound were returned from where it had come from. Just as Hazael was completing the final step needed, marking the grave, the boy felt a familiar presence at his side and nuzzling his arm. Glancing over at the intruder upon his grief, he was glad to see that it was just Bracha, his beloved hound. She whined as the boy sought comfort in his best friend pulling her into a hug and burying his face into her fur as he let the tears flow freely; trusting that the noise would be muffled in the golden strands of the Saluki. He knew that he had little time to compose himself. He couldn’t be so freely crying when he would be called in for the morning meal, but it felt so good to release this inner turmoil within him. Especially with his favorite hound beside him.
He didn’t know how long he was out there, behind the kennel, but it was far too soon before he could hear the call of his mother. It was time to go.
With a shaky exhale and a quick swipe of his arms at his reddened eyes, Hazael tried to pull himself together. Drawing himself to stand, he was able to mutter the last words of the Kaddish before guiding Bracha away from the makeshift canine graveyard and towards the rest of the day that did not care for one pup that died in the night; a stark reminder that time would go on. All Hazael could do was hope that his family could read between the lines and not press their son as to why he had been outside crying as well as trust in the promise by the sacred prayer that with time everything would be alright.
A prayer that was finished with a shaky, “ Amen.”
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
There was no sense in crying. He knew this.
Yet that did nothing to stop the tears from coming.
His lungs burned from the short gasping breaths that escaped him as Hazael hunched over the small, fragile body that had grown stiff in the night.
A puppy, only a few weeks old, had perished. From what cause? The Israeli did not know. It could have been a rouge illness that struck the creature down before it had a chance to properly stand on its wobbly legs. A draft could have snuck under the door and froze the babe when it wandered too far from its mother’s warmth… or more devastatingly, maybe it had been a mistake by the inexperienced parent herself. This was her first litter, after all, she didn’t know the dangers that lurked in not checking where she laid down for sleep. It could have been any of these things or perhaps none of them. Maybe Yahweh had decided that it was time for the little one to leave. As a way to save them from the harshness of the world? As punishment for Hazael? HAd he committed some great sin that was paid in the blood of this young pharaoh hound?
He didn’t know. He didn’t know.
The young Israeli carefully reached out to cradle the lifeless form of the dog he had helped bring into this world and raised until this cruel morning. Small yips from the pup’s still living brothers and sisters joined in the chorus of words flowing from Hazael’s lips; instinctual from all the years that he had said them for those in his community that had passed like this little one had.
“ Exalted and hallowed be God’s great name in the world which God created, according to plan.” The words of the Kaddish had been ingrained into him from the time that he had been a small child and he could remember vividly all the times he had to say it for a friend’s grandfather in the temple. Although the prayer was one of mourning, it was also a declaration of hope; a reminder that Yahweh did not do what he did out of cruelty and that alone brought small comfort to Hazael as he glanced over the pup’s lifeless form. Through the natural blur that came from the tears and his own failing vision if there were any signs of what struck the youngster down so that Hazael may protect his siblings from facing the same fate. There were none.
One moment the pup had been breathing.
The next it had been not.
Hazael tried to focus on the prayer as he walked away from the whelping box, cradling the precious bundle as he went to his small stack of supplies in the corner. As he gathered a simple dirty rag around the pup, the only cloth that could be spared in a family of ten, the words from Hazael continued, “ May God’s majesty be revealed in the days of our lifetime...”
He grew somewhat silent as he sent about tying the rag around the tiny form, sparing him any further from the heartwrenching sight. The kennels were only filled with his light sniffles and the subdued mewlings of the other nearby pups who were, thus far, oblivious to the tragedy that had struck their tiny family during the night. A quiet whine could be heard from Ofir, the pup’s mother, but she gave no other indication that she too was aware of the loss as she tended to the others. That made it easier, Hazael supposed… but even he knew that nothing made these sorts of things stingless. The boy knew that this was part of his trade. The loss was to be expected and not every dog he raised would make it past puppydom. He tried to remind himself of this, but it was so hard to recall when confronted with the harsh reality of life. It wasn’t fair or kind and could end in an instant, without reason.
But the Kaddish he muttered gave it a reason. Yahweh’s reason. It didn’t matter that the sacred words were being said over a dog; an act that may have seen him smacked if Hazael’s father knew of it. Saying it was the only thing that made this sort of thing less painful for the boy as he gathered the tiny bundle and a small shovel, kept in the very back of his supplies. Hidden from sight, but occasionally needed for this purpose.
Stepping out of the kennel into the early dawn light, Hazael was grateful that only his Eemas were awake in the big house. That spared him from the pointed questions of his younger siblings or the painful jeers from his elder ones. This task was hard enough as it was. He didn’t need relatives who didn’t understand the pain that Hazael was going through to add to his anguish.
“ and to the life of all Israel -- speedily, imminetly” The words were deafening in the morning's silence as Hazael made his way around the back of the kennel. Out here there was a small smattering of stones of different sizes and colors with only an equal distance away from each other for uniformity. Hazael’s knees practically gave ou as he collapsed upon the dirt and carefully put the makeshift shroud to the side of him. With the shovel, he began to hack at the arid soil that was being moistened by the few tears that made it down the tracks formed on his cheeks. It may have been an easy task if he hadn’t been so impaired by his gasping lungs and blurry sight. Even with these drawbacks, though, it felt that barely a moment had truly passed before Hazael had a small dent in the dirt that was large enough to serve the grim purpose that he wishes he didn’t need it for.
“ To which we say:” The words were caught in his throat as he carefully put the tiny bundle into the grave and began to refill the earth before the emotional toll on the boy became too much to bear. He was gentle with the task, giving the lost pup the care that it deserved as a creature of Yahweh, even though many others in his position would have left the carcass to rot in the street. Not Hazael. He cared too much to allow himself to take such an easy route. After all, in many ways, the pups were his children. They deserved so much more than this when one of them was cast down before their time.
Refilling was easier than digging and soon all earthly signs of the young Pharaoh hound were returned from where it had come from. Just as Hazael was completing the final step needed, marking the grave, the boy felt a familiar presence at his side and nuzzling his arm. Glancing over at the intruder upon his grief, he was glad to see that it was just Bracha, his beloved hound. She whined as the boy sought comfort in his best friend pulling her into a hug and burying his face into her fur as he let the tears flow freely; trusting that the noise would be muffled in the golden strands of the Saluki. He knew that he had little time to compose himself. He couldn’t be so freely crying when he would be called in for the morning meal, but it felt so good to release this inner turmoil within him. Especially with his favorite hound beside him.
He didn’t know how long he was out there, behind the kennel, but it was far too soon before he could hear the call of his mother. It was time to go.
With a shaky exhale and a quick swipe of his arms at his reddened eyes, Hazael tried to pull himself together. Drawing himself to stand, he was able to mutter the last words of the Kaddish before guiding Bracha away from the makeshift canine graveyard and towards the rest of the day that did not care for one pup that died in the night; a stark reminder that time would go on. All Hazael could do was hope that his family could read between the lines and not press their son as to why he had been outside crying as well as trust in the promise by the sacred prayer that with time everything would be alright.
A prayer that was finished with a shaky, “ Amen.”
There was no sense in crying. He knew this.
Yet that did nothing to stop the tears from coming.
His lungs burned from the short gasping breaths that escaped him as Hazael hunched over the small, fragile body that had grown stiff in the night.
A puppy, only a few weeks old, had perished. From what cause? The Israeli did not know. It could have been a rouge illness that struck the creature down before it had a chance to properly stand on its wobbly legs. A draft could have snuck under the door and froze the babe when it wandered too far from its mother’s warmth… or more devastatingly, maybe it had been a mistake by the inexperienced parent herself. This was her first litter, after all, she didn’t know the dangers that lurked in not checking where she laid down for sleep. It could have been any of these things or perhaps none of them. Maybe Yahweh had decided that it was time for the little one to leave. As a way to save them from the harshness of the world? As punishment for Hazael? HAd he committed some great sin that was paid in the blood of this young pharaoh hound?
He didn’t know. He didn’t know.
The young Israeli carefully reached out to cradle the lifeless form of the dog he had helped bring into this world and raised until this cruel morning. Small yips from the pup’s still living brothers and sisters joined in the chorus of words flowing from Hazael’s lips; instinctual from all the years that he had said them for those in his community that had passed like this little one had.
“ Exalted and hallowed be God’s great name in the world which God created, according to plan.” The words of the Kaddish had been ingrained into him from the time that he had been a small child and he could remember vividly all the times he had to say it for a friend’s grandfather in the temple. Although the prayer was one of mourning, it was also a declaration of hope; a reminder that Yahweh did not do what he did out of cruelty and that alone brought small comfort to Hazael as he glanced over the pup’s lifeless form. Through the natural blur that came from the tears and his own failing vision if there were any signs of what struck the youngster down so that Hazael may protect his siblings from facing the same fate. There were none.
One moment the pup had been breathing.
The next it had been not.
Hazael tried to focus on the prayer as he walked away from the whelping box, cradling the precious bundle as he went to his small stack of supplies in the corner. As he gathered a simple dirty rag around the pup, the only cloth that could be spared in a family of ten, the words from Hazael continued, “ May God’s majesty be revealed in the days of our lifetime...”
He grew somewhat silent as he sent about tying the rag around the tiny form, sparing him any further from the heartwrenching sight. The kennels were only filled with his light sniffles and the subdued mewlings of the other nearby pups who were, thus far, oblivious to the tragedy that had struck their tiny family during the night. A quiet whine could be heard from Ofir, the pup’s mother, but she gave no other indication that she too was aware of the loss as she tended to the others. That made it easier, Hazael supposed… but even he knew that nothing made these sorts of things stingless. The boy knew that this was part of his trade. The loss was to be expected and not every dog he raised would make it past puppydom. He tried to remind himself of this, but it was so hard to recall when confronted with the harsh reality of life. It wasn’t fair or kind and could end in an instant, without reason.
But the Kaddish he muttered gave it a reason. Yahweh’s reason. It didn’t matter that the sacred words were being said over a dog; an act that may have seen him smacked if Hazael’s father knew of it. Saying it was the only thing that made this sort of thing less painful for the boy as he gathered the tiny bundle and a small shovel, kept in the very back of his supplies. Hidden from sight, but occasionally needed for this purpose.
Stepping out of the kennel into the early dawn light, Hazael was grateful that only his Eemas were awake in the big house. That spared him from the pointed questions of his younger siblings or the painful jeers from his elder ones. This task was hard enough as it was. He didn’t need relatives who didn’t understand the pain that Hazael was going through to add to his anguish.
“ and to the life of all Israel -- speedily, imminetly” The words were deafening in the morning's silence as Hazael made his way around the back of the kennel. Out here there was a small smattering of stones of different sizes and colors with only an equal distance away from each other for uniformity. Hazael’s knees practically gave ou as he collapsed upon the dirt and carefully put the makeshift shroud to the side of him. With the shovel, he began to hack at the arid soil that was being moistened by the few tears that made it down the tracks formed on his cheeks. It may have been an easy task if he hadn’t been so impaired by his gasping lungs and blurry sight. Even with these drawbacks, though, it felt that barely a moment had truly passed before Hazael had a small dent in the dirt that was large enough to serve the grim purpose that he wishes he didn’t need it for.
“ To which we say:” The words were caught in his throat as he carefully put the tiny bundle into the grave and began to refill the earth before the emotional toll on the boy became too much to bear. He was gentle with the task, giving the lost pup the care that it deserved as a creature of Yahweh, even though many others in his position would have left the carcass to rot in the street. Not Hazael. He cared too much to allow himself to take such an easy route. After all, in many ways, the pups were his children. They deserved so much more than this when one of them was cast down before their time.
Refilling was easier than digging and soon all earthly signs of the young Pharaoh hound were returned from where it had come from. Just as Hazael was completing the final step needed, marking the grave, the boy felt a familiar presence at his side and nuzzling his arm. Glancing over at the intruder upon his grief, he was glad to see that it was just Bracha, his beloved hound. She whined as the boy sought comfort in his best friend pulling her into a hug and burying his face into her fur as he let the tears flow freely; trusting that the noise would be muffled in the golden strands of the Saluki. He knew that he had little time to compose himself. He couldn’t be so freely crying when he would be called in for the morning meal, but it felt so good to release this inner turmoil within him. Especially with his favorite hound beside him.
He didn’t know how long he was out there, behind the kennel, but it was far too soon before he could hear the call of his mother. It was time to go.
With a shaky exhale and a quick swipe of his arms at his reddened eyes, Hazael tried to pull himself together. Drawing himself to stand, he was able to mutter the last words of the Kaddish before guiding Bracha away from the makeshift canine graveyard and towards the rest of the day that did not care for one pup that died in the night; a stark reminder that time would go on. All Hazael could do was hope that his family could read between the lines and not press their son as to why he had been outside crying as well as trust in the promise by the sacred prayer that with time everything would be alright.