Imagine you are Candy lying in bed, unable to sleep at the end of the day Essay

Lying on my bunk bed in my barn I stared at the wooden ceiling finished by brown boards joint together. The brown boards were filled with deep cracks, weathered and old, reminding me of my aged, ailing, sheepdog who was infested with rheumatism. As I thought of him, I unconsciously plunged into a deep depression and waves of emotions swept over me. My eyes blurred with tears as I thought of my old dog. Again and again, I tried to fall asleep, tossing and turning on the bed, but the task seemed unattainable. I leaned up and turned my face to the window, staring out at the pale crescent moon which shone like a silvery claw as well as the blanket of stars that stretched to infinity, and let an audible sigh. Today was a very disheartening day for me. I have never felt as despondent and fatigue before. Not only was my heart filled with sorrow, it was filled with pangs of guilt. I had allowed Carlson to shoot my own dog Bingo, which I had own since he was a puppy. Bingo was innocent, and had done nothing wrong. Although he was diseased with rheumatism, did that give Carlson the right to kill Bingo? Was it right to do that? Bingo was not just a dog to me; he was like a friend, a best friend. We spent many cherished and unforgettable moments together, including herding sheep together. He was my long life companion, and without him, life would never be as complete as it used to be. Even though Bingo was now toothless, foul smelling, brittle with age and would never run as fast as my herd sheep like he did when he was younger, my love for him remained unchanged. I valued all of the elation and devotion that my once splendid dog had brought to me in my life. Did I make the right choice? I could not comprehend why nobody understood me. Did Slim and Carlson really think that another dog could substitute Bingo? Did they not have any feelings for Bingo? Bingo was one of a kind, and nothing would be able to supplant him. Now that Bingo was gone, life feels so empty and insecure. Being a faithful dog Bingo was, he used to follow me everywhere. Bingo was there during my ups and downs. Even though he was incapable of speaking, it was as if his eyes were able to communicate every single thought of his. The sound of the gunshot played repeatedly in my mind. I knew that my companion did have limited time left in his life, and that he would pass away eventually even if it were not for the advance killing of Bingo. However, tears started rolling down my cheeks as I pondered over whether the shot had caused any pain for Bingo. Though Carlson promised that the shot would not hurt Bingo in anyway, I could not restrain myself from thinking about it. I would rather have taken care of Bingo than cause any pain for him, even if it might be a burden. Then again, I thought through about the fact that it might have been better that Bingo died, because it might be better to terminate his life since he was in so much pain. I started regretting about letting Carlson kill Bingo, instead of killing the dog himself. I realized the responsibility to kill my own dog. â€Å"I’m sorry. I love you, and I would never forget you† I whispered. Calming myself down, I started envisaging what he had discussed with George and Lennie, the two new workers, about our dream house, visualizing and fascinating at the inspiration of how our house would be like after we manage to buy it and started to feel much more relieved. Ripples of excitement burst through me as I thought of how our future house would be like, and I became even more determined to chip in $350 to buy the house. My final decision was made; I would chip in to buy the house. Thinking of Lennie, I recalled being so astonished that he and Curly gotten into such a big fight. I had never seen Curly that infuriated before. Lennie had stood rooted to the ground helplessly not knowing what to do, receiving all the punches by Curly, staring and requesting George for help. He could not make the decision for himself and only after George told him to fight back did I truly realize how strong Lennie was. I had never imagined him being capable of grabbing onto one’s hand especially till there would be a need for him to be sent to see the doctor. I started wondering how Lennie was feeling, and hoped that he was not regretting it too much. Lennie most probably did not mean to do that deliberately. Nonetheless, I prayed that Curly was healthy and that nothing serious had come over him.