INK: The Last Time We Played

Jonathan Subocz, Prose

This picture is of my dog, Zuza. My dog and I play a lot; for her, playing is play fighting, “biting” me and jumping on me.


In which round did I concede defeat? I conceded defeat after being “bitten” countless times. In the beginning, I almost made her cower in fear, but the greatest comeback man has ever known just began. Attack after attack, Zuza charged forward with no fear in her eyes; she disassembled me mentally and physically. She began toying with me. Once she got bored with absolute victory, she went in for the kill. In a moment that felt like slow motion, Zuza began her final attack. The final attack made me squeal in pain. Zuza was declared the winner, and she began gloating. That was the last time I ever challenged Zuza again.