刚刚看到的一则让人感动得掉泪的故事

Banjo
http://www.sina.com.cn 2004/03/02 08:39  英语沙龙


  Banjo came to me by way of a paper bag deposited on my doorstep, apparently the unwanted runt of a litter of German shepherd puppies. At the time, I was single, pushing thirty and living in the country, so I was able to take on the responsibility of a new pet. But did I want one?

  These questions disappeared the moment I lifted that black and brown furball into my arms. And in the years that followed, I never regretted my decision.

  Later when I married, my wife Sandy didn't share my feelings about Banjo. She made it abundantly clear that she wasn't fond of dogs. To her, Banjo was simply the cause of hair on the couch and mud in the carpet, and a nuisance to make arrangement for whenever we went away.

  But in time, I noticed a change. She insisted that she had accidentally added too much milk to her cereal, and instead of wasting it, she might as well give it to Banjo.

  Sandy's love for Banjo truly blossomed during the second year of our marriage when my work took me away from home for ten weeks and Banjo became entirely her responsibility. Banjo never had it so good. The two of them did everything together, becoming better friends than Sandy ever dreamed.

  Our life together with Banjo continued for ten happy years. Then Banjo's health began to deteriorate. When he was diagnosed with cancer, Sandy and I reached the painful realization that Banjo was leaving us.

  In the weeks that followed, we were glad for every extra moment we had with Banjo, but we couldn't shake the sadness we felt. We were concerned when Banjo's dear face told us he wasn't feeling well, yet we were unable to make the decision that the time had come to help him along. And although we prepared ourselves for the inevitable, the end was no less painful, no easier to accept.

  The day Banjo died, he walked unsteadily over to me as I was pulling on my coat. I believed he was asking me to stay. I knew why. So I helped him outside one last time, then took him next to the fire and held his head on my lap. We talked about a lot of things, alone in the quiet, just as we had in the beginning, ten short years ago. After all, it seemed like only yesterday Banjo was curled up in the crook of my arm making contented little grunts, a sound only a puppy can make. It seemed like just last week I was explaining to him for the umpteenth time that the rawhide bones were his and the furniture was mine. If I had any regret, if I thought I could have done certain things better, if I wished I’d been a little more understanding with a young, rambunctious puppy, none of this mattered now as Banjo and I were ending our relationship the same way we started it: just the two of us holding each other close.

  He was in pain, and as the glow of the fireplace enveloped us I kept telling him it was okay to let go. And he finally died, leaving me feeling very alone in the middle of the living room, wondering how the last ten years could have possibly gone so quickly.

  Though his life had slipped away, he was still Banjo, still my friend, and I wasn't ready to give it up. All I could think of, as tears ran down my cheeks, was that I wanted him back.

  I wanted him waiting for me at the door, barking up a storm and acting as if after ten years he was still amazed that I actually came home to him every day. I wanted to see him wriggling down the hill behind our house on his back, making the first tracks in a freshly fallen snow. I wanted to hear that long, moaning sigh as he fell asleep next to our bed, a sound that clearly said, "This is a fine place to be."

  I could have gone on forever with the memories, but Sandy would be home soon and it was important to me that her last time with him be as dignified as possible. So I folded a blanket around Banjo, arranged his head across his thick pillow, and let him lying peacefully in front of the fire.

  When Sandy came home and walked through the front door, she knew by the expression on my face that it was over. I believe her heart broke even more deeply than mine.

  We stayed with Banjo for a long while before composing ourselves and carrying him into the woods where he so loved to run. We buried him, covered his grave with pine bows and placed flowers against a hastily made cross.

  And then the forest grew silent, except for the wind that pushed through the winter trees. When we finally turned to walk away, Banjo's gravesite seemed small, so small for a dog so large in our hearts.

  A few months have passed since we stood in the snow and said good-bye to Banjo, and I still miss him every day. But an outpouring of love during the ensuing weeks helped Sandy and me deal with our loss. Cards came through the mail, flowers arrived at our door, friends stopped by to offer their condolences. Even neighborhood children, who knew me only as "Banjo's Dad", came around to say how sorry they were. It was a warming feeling, knowing Banjo had touched so many lives, in however small a way, and that people understood and cared about what Sandy and I were going through.

  I'd like to think Banjo and I shared an extraordinary kinship, one worthy of being recorded and remembered. But frankly, there was nothing unique about it. The world didn't spin differently because of us. The simple truth is we liked each other, and that's all that really mattered.

  By David C. Hoopes




被装在一个纸口袋里的德国牧羊狗 班卓
  班卓被装在一个纸口袋里,放在我家台阶上,它就这样来到了我这里,它显然是一窝德国牧羊狗中最矮小的。那时,我还单身,年近30,住在乡村,因而我能承担起养只新宠物的责任。可是我确实想要吗?

  我举起那个黑棕相杂的毛毛球抱在怀里的那一刻,这些疑问全都无影无踪了。在随后的年月里我从未后悔当时的决定。

  后来我结婚了。我的妻子桑迪对班卓的心情跟我不同。她非常明确地表示她不喜欢狗。对她来说,班卓只不过是长沙发上的毛和地毯上的泥的罪魁祸首,还是每次我们外出给他做安排时的累赘。

  但逐渐我注意到有些变化。她坚持说她无意之中往麦片粥里加多了牛奶,与其浪费不如给班卓。

  桑迪对班卓的爱是在我们婚后第二年真正发展起来的。那年因工作需要我离家10个星期,班卓完全由桑迪照管了。它从未有过这么美的日子,干什么都在一起,成了桑迪怎么也没梦想到的好朋友。

  我们和班卓一起度过了快乐的10年。后来它的健康开始恶化。它被诊断患有癌症时,我和桑迪痛苦地意识到班卓将离开我们。

  在随后的几周里,我们为能多和班卓在一起的每一时刻感到欣慰,但是我们无法摆脱悲痛。每当他那可爱的脸告诉我们它不舒服时,我们就忧心忡忡,可是我们又不能作出决定可以帮助它结束生命历程了。虽然我们对不可避免的事有所准备,但是最终的结果同样令我们痛苦,同样难以接受。

  班卓走上不归路的那天,我在穿上衣时,它摇晃地走到我跟前。我想它是要我留下。我知道为什么。我最后一次帮它出去,然后抱它到壁炉旁,把它的头放在我的大腿上。如同短短的10年前开始时那样,我们单独地在宁静中谈论了许多事;似乎就像是昨天;班卓蜷缩在我的臂弯里,心满意足地轻轻呼噜着,那是只有幼犬才能发出的声音;就像似上个星期,我第无穷次向它解释生皮骨头是它的而家具是我的。倘若我有后悔之意,如果我们本能把有些事情做的更完善,假如我希望我本该对一只年轻、桀骜不驯的小狗稍许更理解的话,所有这些此时已无关紧要,因为班卓和我正在以开始时的同样方式结束我们的关系:只有我们俩紧紧拥抱在一起。

  疼痛在折磨着它,在壁炉火光的笼罩下,我不停地告诉它放心地走吧。最后,它舍我而去,使我在起居室中感到异常的孤独,难以想象过去的10年怎么会过的那么快。

  虽然它的生命已经悄悄离去,它仍然是班卓,依然是我的朋友,而我还不打算放弃它。我泪流满颊,惟一想要的是它重新生还。

  我要它在门口等我,一阵狂吠,它的表现就好像10年过去了它还感到惊异,原来我每天都回家来到它身旁;我想看着它在我们家后面的小山上仰卧着蜿蜒下坡,在新的积雪上留下最早的踪迹;我想听到它在我们床边入睡前发出的长长呻吟,那声音明确表示:“待在这儿真不错。”

  我可以无止境地回忆,但是桑迪就要回家了。她最后一次和班卓相处地时候应该尽可能显得庄重些,我认为这是很重要的。所以我用毯子裹住它,把头放在他那厚枕头上,让它在炉火前安宁地睡着。

  桑迪回到家,穿过前门时,从我脸上的表情知道一切都结束了。我相信她比我还悲不自胜。

  我们和班卓在一起待了很长时间,我们的情绪安定下来了,于是把它抱到它生前最喜欢在那里奔跑的林子,我们埋葬了它,用松树枝铺在坟上,将花靠在匆匆制作的十字架上。

  这时除了穿经冬日树丛的寒风外,树林变得静悄悄的。我们最后转身走开时,班卓的墓地显得那么小,对一只在我们心中很大的狗而言实在是太小了。

  自我们站在雪地里和班卓告别到现在已经有几个月了,我每天还在思念他。但是,在班卓死后的几个月里,爱意的纷至沓来帮助我和桑迪应对了我们的损失。慰问卡邮来了,花儿出现的门口,友人们登门表示哀悼。甚至只知道我是“班卓的爸爸”的街坊四邻的孩子们,也来表示他们多么难过的心情。知道班卓曾多少拨动过那么多人的心弦,知道人们理解和关怀我和桑迪所经受的悲痛,这些使我们感到暖心的宽慰。

  我愿意把我和班卓看做是异乎寻常的亲属关系,一种值得记载和记忆的关系。但是坦率地说,我们的关系并没有什么独特的。地球不会因为我们而以不同的方式转动。简单的道理就是我们互相喜欢,这才是最重要的。
思念是一种病

原文写的真很感人,但是译文就不怎么生动了,有点生涩,没原文那种刻骨的亲情感。
思念是一种病

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