[ WP ] Write from the perspective of a dog who thinks he is going to the park but is actually going to be euthanized .

`` Come on, Barkalomew. Go to the park?'' Cynthia called. She tried to sound excited. Barkalomew raised his head slowly, looked toward the door, gave a weary woof, and slowly wagged his tail. It was n't the energetic wave of a young dog. He barely had the strength to lift it from the sofa. `` Come on, boy. Let's go to the park.'' 
 
 Barkalomew pushed himself up on his front legs and they shuddered under the effort of doing so. He stepped down, dragging his hindquarters after them. One by one, he lowered his back legs, and with the dignity of a hound who'd lived a long and comfortable life filled with love and joy and tummy rubs, he trudged slowly toward the girl at the door. 
 
 He stopped wagging his tail during the walk. He had n't the strengthe to wag and walk. She gave the leash a little shake and went to one knee. 
 
 `` Come on, boy. You can do it.'' She called softly. `` Oh, you're such a good boy. You're such a good boy, Barkalomew. She held her arms open ready to embrace him. He hurt inside. His joints felt stiff. He heard a crackling sound inside him when he walked. The muscles in his neck quivered and ached from the strain of holding his head aloft, and so, he let his head droop so that his nose was only a few inches from the floor as he slowly walked into the circle of his master's arms. He gave a snuffling woof, and she hugged him. He gave a little whimper at the pain of that embrace. She was n't squeezing him hard and the light scratch behind the ears felt lovely, but the pressure of her hug made his body ache. She must have sensed this for she let him loose. 
 
 `` Come on, baby. We're gon na go to the park... one more time.'' He saw that his master's eyes seemed to glimmer. He looked back into the kitchen and saw that his food and water dish were n't beside the fridge any more. He wondered for a moment what could have happened to them. Instead, there were two smaller bowls there. His nose did n't work great, but he could tell by the faint scent drifting through the house that the food in the bowl was a wet food. He had n't had wet food in a long time. He licked his lips, remembering well the tasted of gravy and soft meat. 
 
 `` Look who I got.'' Mark sang out upon entering the living room. Barkalomew raised his head and saw something small and hyper squirming in his other master's hands. Barkalowmew sniffed the air and smelled the scent of youth. The puppy in Mark's hands gnawed on his thumb and licked at the man's face whenever it ventured too close. 
 
 *Woof* 
 
 Barkalomew gave a curious bark that sounded as if it had issued through a mouth filled with cotton. 
 
 `` You could have waited.'' Cynthia chided. Mark shrugged and let the puppy lick his face. She fastened the leash onto Barkalomew's collar and with a gentle tug toward the open door, led him from the house. She helped him climb into the front seat, lifting his hindquarters. He immediately laid down and when Cynthia climbed into the driver seat, he lay his head upon her leg. 
 
 She gently stroked his ears and muzzle. She was talking to him softly while she petted him. He did n't hear much. His eyes drooped. Each breath was slow in coming and even slower in leaving. After a few moments, he opened his eyes. They'd gone to far. The park was n't this far away. He lifted his head and pushed himself up on his front legs and looked out the window. There were very few trees outside the window. Something was wrong. He out the window and saw cars everywhere. He gave an inquiring woof. 
 
 Cynthia pulled into a parking space quickly and hugged her hound to her, wetting his fur with tears. She held him like this for a long time. `` I do n't want to do this.'' She sulked. `` I love you.'' Barkalomew's tale wagged a couple of times. He knew this word. She used it a lot and almost always rubbed his belly afterward. Almost always, but not today. She rubbed at her eyes and wiped at her runny nose and made her preparations to depart. 
 
 He climbed out her door, whimpering as his hindquarter dropped from the car seat to the parking lot. His knees quivered in pain. 
 
 `` Just a little farther.'' Cynthia promised, putting the leash on him once more. She led him slowly across the lot toward a big grey building with a paw print on the sign. Barkalomew stopped suddenly. He knew this place. It was the place that poked him with needles and smelled of death. Cynthia had to give him a couple tugs on the leash to get him to start moving again. 
 
 He looked up at her. *Why are you taking me here? * He asked with his eyes. *Was I... bad? * Cynthia did n't look down. She did n't reply. She opened the door. *Can we go to the park afterwards? * Barkalomew's eyes did n't leave his master as she led him in. The other animals looked on him with pity. 
 
 *Woof. * He barked softly. 
 
 Cynthia stopped at the counter and began conversing with the woman behind it. Barkalomew looked at the many faces of the many pets in the waiting room and recognized one. It was labrador like him. He'd seen him many times in the past. He perked up his ears and fixed the other dog with look. *Do you know why I'm here? * He asked. 
 
 The other dog hung his head. 
 
 *Woof. * Barkalomew protested. The other lab gave a whimper and and Barkalomew understood it perfectly. `` Run.'' The other dog had advised mournfully. Barkalomew looked up at his good master then back to the other dog. The other dog gave another whimper. `` Run.'' Barkalomew did nothing till the man in the white suit came out of the back. He looked down at the old hound and gestured while speaking to Cynthia. Cynthia started to cry anew and nodded. 
 
 Barkalomew made his decision and tried to run for the door. His joints hurt and he could only manage a half walk half trot. The man in the white suit caught him after only a few steps. He spoke quietly, reverently. Cynthia passed the leash over to the man and the man with gentle tugs pulled Barkalomew toward the back open door behind the counter. 
 
 *Do n't let him take me. * Barkalomew pleaded. *I'm your good boy, remember? * Cynthia cried harder. *Why are you doing this? Why? I'm your good boy. * She would n't look him in the face. The last thing he saw was n't his master's kindly face, but the face of the other dog. 
 
 *You should have run faster. * He seemed to say. Barkalomew looked from the other dog to his master's back. 
 
 *I was your good boy! * Barkalomew shouted at Cynthia. But of course, all she heard was a softly muffled *Woof* a fraction of a second before the door closed.
