Ozzy And Me Monologue

Without pain, how would we know joy? Without heartache, how would we know love? I never knew the answers to these questions. I have told the story of the day my best friend lost his cool and his life in one day. The thing about pain is, it demands to be felt. I’m not going to say that this pain broke my heart, because I am still very much alive, and I would not be if that was so. Also, everyone would say that if their dog ripped a quarter sized chunk out of their leg. Ozzy wasn’t just any old dog. His story changed me in a way that hurts to think about. Lucky for me, I’m not going to talk about his story. I’m going to talk about Ozzy and Me. I got Ozzy out of a shelter when he was just a puppy. He caught my eye because of his bubblegum pink

The water is such a clear blue you can see the bottom. Cattails rim the edge except around the wide wooden dock. I used to go out there with Ozzy, we would sit on the edge of the dock. This is an emotional anchor for me. I don’t have memories like most people, because I have extreme trouble remembering things. So what I do remember, I refer to as emotional anchors. Usually they are only the big things, sometimes the small. Ozzy was one, the pond is one, and rain is one. These were all thoughts running through my mind on a rainy Sunday afternoon. As usual, I was on the porch contemplating the meaning of life or the fact that if you tear a hole in a net, there are less holes in it than when you started. After a while I went back inside. I have Ozzy’s collar and tags in the very top drawer in my room. I keep important stuff there, pictures, letters, etc. I swiftly opened the drawer, all time seemed to slow down. I instantly recognized his smell, honey mixed with a fresh, earthy smell. A knot twisted my stomach and I quickly shut the drawer before I was on the floor having an uncontrollable mental breakdown. To take my mind off things, I booted up my laptop. Instantly his face popped up, my screen saver was a picture of us. I couldn’t escape him, and I didn’t want