Authors: W. Bruce Cameron
We no longer went to see Andi every day, but sometimes we’d go for a visit and it was always wonderful to see her. People do that—just when the routine is established, they’ll change it. On these occasions, after the usual greeting of hugs and kisses, we played the game with people sitting in chairs and also a new game with people sitting or sometimes standing in a long line.
“This is what my grant is for, to see if a dog could signal positive on people in a group,” Andi said. “Only Luke has been able to figure it out.”
Luke looked up at his name.
We went up and down the line of people and the first couple of times we did so I could tell that Andi and CJ wanted something from me, but I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to do. And then I caught an odor coming off of a woman with no hair and with hands that smelled like harsh soap—there it was, the unmistakable metallic smell on her breath. I signaled and was given a biscuit.
That seemed to be the game, though I couldn’t be sure because Andi kept leading me to other people who didn’t have the same scent, as if I was supposed to signal for them as well. When I did so, though, Andi would stand with her arms crossed and not give me a biscuit. It was very puzzling.
One day I was out in the backyard in heavy new snow, bounding through it, having to leap up with every step because of how deep it was. I heard the sliding door open and saw Gloria standing there. “Want a piece of roast beef?” she called.
I hesitantly took a step toward her, then stopped. I could hear the question in her voice but didn’t know if it meant I was in trouble or not.
“Here,” she said. She tossed something into the snow a few feet in front of me and I went over to it, having to locate it by smell because it had sunk so far. It was a delicious piece of meat! I raised my head and looked back at Gloria, giving my tail an experimental wag.
“Want another one?” She pitched a piece of meat near me and I jumped on it, snorting, until I found it and ate it in a quick gulp.
When I looked up, Gloria had gone back inside. What, I wondered, had that been all about?
Then I heard Gloria calling from the front yard, “Yoo-hoo, Molly! Dog, want another treat?”
Treat! I bounded over to the gate and found it open. The walk had been shoveled by the man who came by on winter mornings with a truck to clear away the snow. I trotted around the side of the house. Gloria was standing in the driveway.
“Treat,” she said. She tossed another piece of meat and I snagged it out of the air. She opened her rear car door. “Okay, want to get in? Treat?”
Her meaning was clear. I hesitantly made my way over to the open door. She pitched some meat onto the rear floor and I jumped in and she shut the door while I gulped down the treat. Then she got in the car, started it, and we drove off down the driveway.
I didn’t mind that I wasn’t a front-seat dog. I didn’t think I would like it with Gloria driving. I stared out the window at the snowy trees and yards for a while, then circled around and lay down on the seat for a nap.
I woke up and shook when the car stopped and Gloria turned it off. She twisted around in her seat. “Careful now. Remember, I fed you a treat? You be nice, Molly.”
I wagged at my name. I sniffed at Gloria’s hands as they came around my throat, but there was no meat in them. With a sudden click, my collar dropped off and landed on the seat. I lowered my nose to it.
Gloria got out of the car and opened my door. “Come along. Heel. Be a good dog. Don’t run off.”
We were approaching a building that reeked of dogs. Gloria pushed open the front door and slapped her leg and I followed her inside. Inside was a small room with an open door through which I could hear what had to be more than a dozen dogs barking.
“Hello? Hello?” Gloria called.
A woman came out through the open door and smiled. “Yes, can I help you?”
“I found this poor dog abandoned in the streets,” Gloria said. “There’s no telling how long he’s been living like that, alone and far, far away from his family. Is this where you drop off lost dogs?”
FIFTEEN
I had been in places like this before. In fact, it was a little like where CJ and I went to play with Andi and Luke, except there were far more dogs and the ceiling was low and there was no big area for people to sit in chairs—just cramped aisles filled with dog cages.
I was put in a cage with a cement floor and only a few feet between the gate and the door to a doghouse. The doghouse had a piece of carpet in it that smelled of many dogs, just as the air around me smelled of dogs and was filled with the constant sound of barking.
When the woman came with water or food I rushed to the gate, wagging, hoping she would let me out. I wanted to run, to play, to have people pet me. The woman was nice, but she would not let me out.
Most of the other dogs also rushed to their gates when the woman was nearby. A lot of them barked, and some of them sat quietly, being as good as they knew how. The woman did not let them out.
I did not understand what was happening or why I was in this place of barking dogs. I missed CJ so much I found myself pacing, whimpering a little, and then I’d go into the doghouse and lie on the small piece of carpet, but I wouldn’t sleep.
The barking that assaulted my ears was full of fear, with some anger, some pain, some sadness. When I barked, my voice carried with it my heartbreak and my plea to be let out of this place.
At night most of the dogs quieted down, but then one of them would start barking, often a brown and black dog in the kennel next to mine, tall and thin with no tail, and that would stir up the other dogs and pretty soon we’d all be barking again. It was very difficult to sleep under such circumstances.
I pictured myself lying at the foot of CJ’s bed. Sometimes in the night I would get too hot and jump down on the floor, but now, missing her so much, I wanted to be lying on that bed no matter how hot it was. I yearned for the touch of her hands on my fur and the familiar and wonderful scent of her skin.
The next morning I was let out of the cage and taken down the hallway and put up on a table, just like at the Vet’s. A man and a woman petted me, and the man looked in my ears. The woman took a stick and held it near my head, but the man had his hands on both sides of my face so I couldn’t get a good look at it to see if it was a toy.
“Got a hit,” the woman said.
“I knew she’d be chipped,” the man said.
I was returned to my cage. I was so disappointed I could barely summon the energy to go back and lie down on the carpet. I chewed a little on the doghouse, but even that didn’t make me feel better. I sighed, lying down with a groan.
A few hours later the man came back. “Hello, Molly,” he said to me. I sat up and wagged, loving to hear my name. He slipped a rope around my neck. “Come on, girl; someone’s here to see you.”
I smelled CJ the second the man opened the door at the end of the hall. “Molly!” she called. I dashed up to her and she fell to her knees and put her arms around me. I kissed her face and her ear and ran around and around her, the rope trailing behind me and getting all tangled. I gave voice to my relief, crying and crying. She laughed. “Good dog, Molly, you sit, now.”
It was hard to sit, but I knew I needed to be a good dog. I sat, wagging my tail, while my girl stood and talked to the man.
“I’ve been so worried,” she said. “I think she got out of the gate when the man came over to shovel the walk after that big snow we had.”
Back down the hall, the tall black and brown dog started barking and everyone joined in. I hoped their people would come to take them home soon, too.
“The woman who dropped her off said she was running down the street.”
“That’s so not like Molly. How much is it total?”
“Sixty dollars.”
I wagged at hearing my name. CJ reached down to pet me. “Wait, the woman?”
“Some rich lady,” the man said.
“Rich?”
“Well, you know. She had a new Cadillac, dressed expensively, nice hair. Lots of perfume.”
“Blond hair?”
“Yeah.”
CJ drew in a deep breath. She was looking for something in her purse. I watched attentively because she often kept cookies in there. “Look, was this her?” CJ leaned over the counter.
“I don’t think I should say.”
“The woman in the picture is my mother.”
“What?”
“Yeah.”
“Your mother dropped off your dog? Without telling you?”
“Yeah.”
There was a silence. CJ was both angry and sad.
“I’m sorry,” the man said.
“Yeah.”
I was put in the front seat for the car ride. “I missed you so much, Molly. I was so scared something was going to happen to you!” CJ said. She held me to her and I licked her face. “Oh, Molly, Molly,” she whispered. “You silly schnoodle not a poodle.” She felt sad even though we were back together. “I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t know she’d do something like this.”
Though there were many interesting things to see out the window, I looked at CJ and licked her hand and put my head in her lap, just like I used to do when I was a little puppy. It felt so good to be near her I slipped into a quick and exhausted sleep.
I sat up when the car slowed and turned sharply, filling with familiar scents. We were back home. The car became quiet and CJ reached for me, holding my head in both hands. “It’s not safe for you here, Molly. I don’t know what I am going to do. I can’t trust Gloria not to hurt you. I’d die if anything happened to you, Molly.”
I wagged a little. CJ let me out of the car and I stepped through the melting snow to the front door—it felt so good to be home. CJ opened the door and walked in and then gasped, the fear rising up in her in a flash.
“Shane!”
CJ’s friend Shane was sitting in the living room. He stood, but I didn’t go over to him and I didn’t wag my tail. There was something wrong about him being here, alone in our house.
“Hi, CJ.”
“How did you get in?”
Shane went down on one knee and clapped his hands. “Hiya, Molly.” He smelled like smoke. I remained by CJ’s side.
“Shane? I said how did you get in?”
“I stuck a rake up through the dog door and turned the dead bolt,” he said, laughing.
“What are you doing here?”
“How come you never call me back?”
“You have to get out of here right now. You can’t come in my house!”
CJ was angry. I watched her carefully, wondering what was going on.
“You left me no choice. You’ve been completely ignoring me.”
“Yes, that’s what people do when they break up, Shane. They stop talking to each other. You can look it up.”
“Okay if I smoke in here?”
“No! I need you to leave.”
“Well, I’m not leaving until we talk this thing out.”
“What
thing
? Shane, you…” CJ took a deep breath. “You called me like thirty times in a row at two in the morning.”
“I did?” Shane laughed.
I heard a car pulling into the driveway and went to the window to see who it was. The car door opened and it was Rocky! Trent got out, too. Rocky ran over to lift his leg on a tree.
“Somebody’s here,” CJ said.
“Should I wait upstairs?”
“What? Are you crazy? I want you to leave.”
There was a light knock on the door. I ran over to it and put my nose to the crack, sniffing. Rocky was on the other side doing exactly the same thing. CJ crossed over and opened the door.
“You found her!” Trent said. Then he stopped.
“Hey, Trent,” Shane said.
Rocky and I were sniffing each other. I jumped up and joyously grabbed a fold of skin on the back of his neck and yanked on it.
“Sorry, maybe I should come back at a different time,” Trent said.
“No!” CJ said.
“Yeah, we’re in the middle of something kind of personal,” Shane said.
“No, you were in the middle of leaving,” CJ said.
“CJ, we
need to talk,
” Shane said.
“It sounds like she wants you to leave,” Trent said.
Rocky stopped moving. I bit at his face, but he was watching Trent, his muscles rock hard and still.
“Maybe I don’t want to leave!” Shane said loudly.
I could feel the anger in Trent then. CJ reached out and put a hand on his wrist. Rocky’s ears were up and the fur was rising on the back of his neck.
It occurred to me at that moment that Rocky’s purpose was to love and protect Trent, just as mine was to love and take care of CJ.
“Shane,” CJ said. “Go. I will see you tomorrow.”
Shane was staring at Trent.
“Shane!” CJ said more loudly.
Shane blinked and then looked at her. “What?”
“I’ll see you tomorrow, out where you skateboard. Okay? After school.”
Shane stood there for a moment, then nodded. He picked up his coat and slung it over his shoulder. As he left he pushed past Trent, who continued to stare at him until he was out the door.
“You’re going to see him tomorrow?” Trent asked. He absently petted Rocky on the head. I licked Rocky’s mouth.
“No! I’m not going to be here tomorrow.”
“What do you mean?”
“Molly and I are leaving. Today, this afternoon. We’re going to California.”
CJ went to the stairs and headed up to her room and Trent, Rocky, and I all followed.
“What are you talking about?” Trent asked.
CJ went to a closet and pulled out a suitcase. I knew that suitcase; when CJ left me at Trent’s house for days and days she had pulled it out of the closet. Rocky was ready to play again, but seeing that suitcase made me anxious and I stuck close to CJ’s feet as she began opening things and pulling out her clothes and putting them inside it. “Molly didn’t run off. Gloria dumped her off at Animal Control.”
“What?”
“I showed the guy at the shelter her picture. Can you believe it?”
“Yeah, well, I’d believe just about anything about your mother.”
“So that’s it. We’re going to California. We’ll live on the beach until I get a job. And then when I’m twenty-one I’ll get my dad’s trust and I’ll go to college.”
“You’re not thinking this through, CJ. College? You haven’t finished high school.”