A/N: This is just a random little idea that popped into my head while packing for college. Enjoy! :)
Disclaimer: I own a very large nothing.
His New Dead Life
I wasn't afraid to die.
My life was not one to be envied, by man or dog. I honestly don't know why they bought me to begin with. They clearly weren't dog people, so why the interest in purchasing one? Who knows? I certainly didn't. But as they begrudgingly dragged my "furry ass," to the veterinarian in order to be put down, I can honestly say that I was actually looking forward to it. No more being tossed out in the rain for doing absolutely nothing wrong. No more waiting patiently by my bowl for hours on end just to be fed the tiniest amount of food possible. No more getting hit and kicked and sometimes even punched just for laying in my little corner, alone. I don't know what I did to make them hate me so much, but they clearly and undeniably did.
So I did not fight the vet as she injected the needle into my skin, gently allowing its contents to take hold of my body. I let the darkness come willingly without question, my only regret being that I would die a nameless dog.
Did you know that dogs get their own space in heaven?
I didn't, but I'm really happy we do. Not to say we aren't allowed to be with the people as well, but it's always nice to have your own space.
I also didn't know that dogs were allowed to visit earth. Just as spirits, of course. No one would be able to see us or hear us or anything, and I honestly don't know why I took up the offer to see how my owners were doing without me. Maybe I was just curious as to what animal they bought to torture after my death, I don't know. But as I made my way towards my old house, I couldn't help but feel a little depressed.
What I saw when I got there though…who could have prepared me for that?
I saw my body. My stuffed body; groomed and thrown casually into a box full of hats. My so-called owners were selling my dead body, taxidermy and all. I noticed with some form of morbid amusement that my lifeless corpse looked ten times better, ten times happier, than I ever had when I was actually alive.
I was about to walk away, disgusted with the yard sale, until a cheery voice caught my attention.
"Look Turk! A dog!"
At first I was startled. Could they see me? But when I turned to look at the owner of the voice, a skinny white guy accompanied by a bulkier black guy, I was surprised to see them walking towards my used-to-be body.
"Aw, look! He's so cute!" the brunette said enthusiastically.
"Yeah he is! Should we bring 'im back to school with us?" his friend asked excitedly.
I couldn't help but wonder…didn't they realize that I was dead? But they didn't sound sarcastic or funny or anything. They sounded more than sincere when saying I was friendly looking. They sounded one hundred percent serious when saying how much they were willing to pay, and they didn't even hesitate when my old owner asked them for twenty bucks. They gave it over gratefully, and practically skipped away with my old self clutched tightly in their arms. I had to follow them.
Back at the dorm they discussed what to name me. They eventually decided on Rowdy, and I couldn't help but wag my tail. Honestly, they could've named me Huckleberry Fin and I would've been just as happy. I finally had a name! And I did like their choice. It's a happy name, and for the first time ever (on earth, anyway, because I do enjoy my doggy heaven) I was undoubtedly happy. Those two boys are weird, but that's okay. I like weird. And they didn't seem to mind in the slightest that I was unable to play with them back. I think that's my only regret in all of this; that I can't lick their faces and fetch the ball or tell them how much I appreciate the love I never once received from the people who actually bought me to begin with, but I don't think I'd have to, because now the brunette is absentmindedly petting my fur as his friend goes to get me another tennis ball.
I don't know why I took the offer to come and visit earth, but I'm more than glad that I did. Because I don't only have a name now, but two loving owners that genuinely seem to care about me. And I'm not even alive! That's the thing that makes me laugh the most as I make my way back up to heaven; my life as a dead dog is a million times better than it was when I was alive and breathing, but honestly? I'm okay with that, because I love those two: JD and Turk, as I figured out by watching them. I know they'll take good care of me, and I know they'll know I appreciate it.
A/N: I know it's probably a little strange, but when it popped into my head, I really wanted to go for it. Even though he's not an actual character, Rowdy is still really funny on the show, and I don't think I've ever seen a fic revolved around him, so I thought, "Why not?" lol Oh, and in case you guys are wondering - I'm finally done packing. In since we're leaving super early tomorrow anyway, I figured I'd just stay up and work on my writing tonight, so hopefully you'll see an update of some sort sooner than later. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed it. :) Until next time!