The story of the Dog

Then my dog dies.
My brother. The only one I knew would love me whatever happened. He dies.
And my world comes crashing down.
12 years I'd been with him.
Grown with him.
Had fights when he chewed my toys.
Went back to him every time. Rubbing his head. Playing with his tail. Holding his paw. And he didn't say a thing. He'd forget about everything and lick my face. And I let him.
My hope. The only real loving family. He was gone. I was alone.
I lock myself in my room. Don't come out for a week.
Too weak to face the truth.

I start having dreams. I still have them. He's somewhere lost. Somewhere locked up. And he's calling for me. I try to find him. But I'm forgetting him, forgetting his face, forgetting his bark. In the dream there are a number of identical dogs and I can't figure out who's the real one. That's when I wake up gasping.
I was a dog. I jumped. He ran and died instead.
Ulmo's trident around me. A car running over him.