Cosmic Wiener

Enjoy Brittany Gomez's 2025 second-place fiction piece from the Boar's Tusk 2024/2025 Journal. For more information about Boar's Tusk, click here. 

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I held Oppy while they gave him the shot. Like most wiener dogs, he is difficult to hold due to his long body shape and short little legs. He was so long, in fact, that his head was always somewhere in the present while his tail trailed somewhere in the past. Today, however, it was far more difficult to let him go.   

“Son, I think it’s time to say goodbye.” Mom said as she fixed her watered eyes on me, searching for my understanding. 

Oppy was a gift from my father on my 7th birthday. He gave him to me just before he left us for the coast. It was so far away that when my friends asked about him, I joked that he had left to explore the planet Mars. I guess I was too excited about a puppy to see the guilt in my father’s face for leaving, but maybe the guilt wasn’t ever there. I was still too young to understand why he left, and I didn’t dare ask him on the rare occasions that we spoke. After all, I barely knew the man. I just figured he preferred his space. 

Mom was a little unsure about letting me keep Oppy. She told me that dogs are a big responsibility, but I promised to feed him and give him water every day. I was hesitant to agree on cleaning up his poop, but I loved him instantly and I could no longer imagine my life without him.  

I was lucky to have Oppy. About four years ago, Mom started dinner at camp, so Oppy and I went for a walk in the mountains. The snow had melted, and the land was a yellow grassy marsh photosynthesizing its way to green. The moist ground glistened by the warmth of the sun as birds chattered and chipmunks stretched their legs. It was getting too hot, so I took off my jacket and tied it around my waist. With each step into the grasslands, baby frogs would hop at my feet. Oppy began to nip at the frogs and pounce on the grass.  

"No, Oppy! That's not food." I leaned down to catch one and held my hand out so that he could properly investigate. Oppy's eyes lit up as he began to sniff. He placed both front paws on my hand and pulled the frog closer. He moved his nose around every centimeter of the frog huffing and sniffing with curiosity. I guess that was enough for the frog because he quickly hopped away. This became a fun game for Oppy. He'd chase them and catch them to bring them to me in his gentle mouth. 

"Good boy Oppy!" I laughed. I was so distracted by Oppy's playful dance with the frogs that I tripped over a log and hit my head on a boulder. I woke up to a raging headache and the night sky. Shit, I told Mom I'd be back before dark. I sat up and saw two green glowing eyes staring back at me.  

"Oppy, is that you?” I whispered.  

The Eyes began to move closer and then paused. I grabbed a stone from the ground and lifted it as I prepared to throw.  

"Hey!" I shouted, but the glowing eyes did not run away in fear. Instead, they rushed towards me. I pulled my arm backwards and aimed. Finally, I could make out the shape of the creature.  

"Oppy! You scared me bud." He dropped another frog onto my lap and placed his paws on my chest to lick the wound on my forehead. 

"We’ve got to get back. Can you lead the way?"  

I knew Oppy could see better at night and I was thankful that he was there to warn me of any dangers that lurked in the forest. I didn't have a leash, so I pulled my shoelace from my tennies and tied it to his collar to keep him close. Oppy used the light of the moon to transform his eyes to night vision goggles and guide us back. Finally, I heard my mother shouting my name as her flashlight appeared to strobe by moving back and forth against the trees. 

“Samuel!” She embraced me and wept, but never scolded me.    

Oppy and I would play like brothers. He liked to chase his tail, and this became a game that inspired my creative imagination. I would cheer him on until he caught it and every time he caught it, we were transported back to the past. We became pirates in the 18th century on a mission for gold. I made a map, and he would help me dig when we reached the treasure. One time, we became Oregon Trail trailblazers on the rugged lands of Wyoming. Oppy would ride along in my red Radio Flyer wagon while I pulled it through the dusty drainage ditch behind our home. It became a deep ravine to explore along our journey. I could tell Oppy didn’t like the bonnet I had tied on his head, because he immediately started chasing his tail to try and start a new adventure. I took it off him and told him that it was okay if we just pretend.    

“He’s old sweety, he’s lived a good life.” Mom reached for the box of tissues that began to dwindle much like our time.  

Oppy and I haven’t spent nearly as much time together in the past couple years. I’ve been busy with my girlfriend and my job at the local hotdog joint. He sleeps a lot more now too. Still, I cared for him and wanted to remind him that he is loved. I snuck a hotdog from work each night, and I surprised him with it when I got home. But last night Oppy showed no interest. He barely lifted his head to acknowledge me and then looked away. I thought he was mad at me. Like I hadn’t been there enough for him, so I tried to get him to play.  

“C’mon Oppy, get your tail, get your tail!” But he just laid there. 

“I noticed he is being unusually sluggish today. He’s been in the same spot all day. I scheduled an appointment with the Vet tomorrow morning.” said mom.  

We arrived under the harsh florescent lighting which increased the depth of my mom’s wrinkles on either side of her nose. I could hear loud barking from the back room, and I could smell a strong scent of the vinegar that they used to try and cover up the scent of urine. 

The vet guided us back into a room with no windows. The paint on the walls was curved and splotchy as it attempted to reach the ceiling. The vet leaned in with her stethoscope to listen to Oppy’s heart. She smacked her lips and took a deep breath in.  

“I’m sorry to tell you, but he seems to have congestive heart failure. In many cases we give a shot to make the transition of death easier. It is suggested because it can be very painful for the both of you as his symptoms get progressively worse. Judging by his state, this is the best way to make him comfortable.” She spoke so smoothly like the words had come out of her mouth multiple times before, but to me this was very new. I didn’t want Oppy to be in pain, but how on any planet could I be more comfortable without him?  

My favorite time with Oppy was when he caught his tail, and we became astronauts out on the trampoline. We bounced around like we were on the moon, but we were careful to avoid mission failure. Then we would lie down and stargaze for a bit. Oppy was a deep sleeper. I always wondered what he dreamt of. His stubby legs would twitch while he sent whispering barks out into the abyss. I imagined that he was just busy chasing every passing comet and commanding them not to fall to earth.  

Oppy laid his weak head against my chest. I could feel him listening to the drum of my aching heart and I knew that his heart ached too. 

“Okay…we are ready.” I reluctantly agreed. Oppy went quick. The stars in his eyes peered back at me through the early stages of cataracts and then suddenly they were gone. His body became empty as his spirit drifted away to navigate somewhere else through the cosmos. We left the vet with nothing but Oppy’s collar.  

“He was a great dog, and he loved you very much.” Mom reassured me, but I was just too angry and upset. I had lost my best friend.  

“Do you want to call your father and let him know?” she asked.  

“What does he care?” I shot back. Oppy was my responsibility, and I felt like I had failed him. I clenched the collar with a tight fist and then banged my hand onto the dashboard. I opened my fist and stared at the only thing I had left from my best friend in the whole universe. His tag gleamed, but his scribbled-on name had faded from the several scratches caused by sagebrush and rocks. 

I laid out on the trampoline that night and wondered if Oppy was up there in the stars somewhere chasing his tail again. I imagined he’d catch it and travel in time back to me. But he looked a lot different to me now. He was fearless with eyes that glowed like tiny moons and had a body full of complex constellations. He whizzed through the galaxy chasing the comets he had only barked at before. He swirled around the event horizons and playfully bounced away. Oppy was strong and I knew he wanted me to be strong too.  

“I love you, Oppy!” I howled, and then the neighbor’s dogs howled too.