The Guardian Part 6

I didn’t know that this was here. These tall trees and steep slopes and the huge rocks. All I ever knew was the image of tall spiky ridges against the sky and how they changed shades. They looked like a wall against the horizon where the sun went to sleep at night. A wall so high that no one, not even Minx with her long slender legs and powerful heart would have been able to leap it though she had escaped the Big Man’s corral more times than we could count. But Rain brought me here. She says these are the Rocky Mountains but I’ve only ever lived on the Front Range.

We drove toward the wall and it was like magic happened! The purple wall turned into trees and dirt and gigantic rocks bigger than my old dog house, bigger even than the building with the blue door. I mean big. 

We drive along the narrow dirt road that twists and turns back and forth until I feel like I am going the way I had come already yet we have not turned around. We go up and then downhill, too, like a maze. I might never find my way out. I trust Rain but this is strange. When I whine just the tiniest bit, she talks to me in her soothing voice and massages my shoulders and gently rubs my ears. I feel better and relax. I curl into the seat next to her in the car. 

“You’re going to love it here, baby,” Rain says. “Our life will be wonderful. The house is small but sits into a hillside, tucked against the mountain like most of the other houses. Well, most of them are cabins or even shacks, but new people are starting to make them nicer and the road is a dead end down at a creek so only people who live here will be driving down the road. And as soon as word gets around that a deputy sheriff is living here, I will feel perfectly safe. We’ll be safe in our little house in the mountains. It’s like a dream come true! Like in one of my romance novels. And maybe Michael will be happier here. Maybe I won’t irritate him so much and his job won’t be so hard for him to deal with once he can come home to such a sweet little place of peace and quiet. We’ll make it as nice for him as possible, won’t we?”

I hear the sad, wistful tone in Rain’s voice that wasn’t there a few minutes ago. I want to make it go away so I forget my sloshy tummy and the winding road that is inside the magic wall. I bark. Twice! I leap to my feet, wag my plume of a tail, and watch Rain as she laughs out loud from my surprise bark. 

“You’re the best,” she says. “You’ve saved my life, I swear, girl.” 

Rain pets me as much as she can with one hand until we round a sharp turn downhill and she has to use her hand that was petting me to move the stick that is between the seats. This road makes her use the stick a lot and I see both her knees bobbing up and down as her feet press on the peddles on her side of the car floor.

“We’ll need a truck for winter,” Rain says. 

I know what a truck is and that will be fun. I like the back of a truck. My tummy doesn’t act so strange when I ride in a truck.

I keep my eyes on Rain. She’s smiling again but I know how fast that can change. Dark Man -- Rain calls him Michael or you-know-who -- will be at the house when we arrive. Rain told me he was working last night while I was sleeping in my room with the wire walls at the building with the blue door, and while Rain was asleep at the little apartment where she and Michael live. I don’t like that they live there and I live at Blue Door.

Rain says that Dark Man works a lot of nights. She says he likes that now I will be with Rain at night when he’s gone. But he doesn’t like me. I know he doesn’t. I often growl at him but low, quiet-like so that he can’t hear me. His face and posture change when Rain isn’t looking. And he doesn’t smell right at all. Like something rotten is under his skin. But when he sees people look at him, he puts on a big smile and he acts all friendly. But I know what is real. So I watch him close. But I don’t go close unless I have to. I stay with Rain.

Rain tells me that we are going to start hiking trails with the nice round-faced woman who took care of me at Blue Door. I call her Moon. Moon has a big black dog and a tall goofy red one. I like the black one who reminds me of my mum before I was taken away from her. But the red one is a spaz and not very smart and can’t remember even how to sit when Rain or Moon ask us to. It’s embarrassing. But I’m a big girl now. I’m six months old and all grown up. I have to take care of Rain so I can’t be bothered with a dog who can’t even remember words that are simple. 

Rain turns the wheel and pulls the car into a long slope of dirt next to a tiny house with tall trees all around it. It reminds me a little of Big Man and Wild Hair’s house because of the peeling paint and tilting roof.

“We’re here! Isn’t is marvelous? Just like a fairy tale cottage!”

When the sadness is hiding, Rain is always happy and smiling and laughing and talking about fairies. I don’t know what those are but I’m sure Rain will take me to meet one someday. Especially now that she says we will be living here together forever. I’m not sure what means “forever” but Rain says I can stay with her and sleep with her and not go back to Blue Door so that’s good enough for me. 

Rain rushes around the car to open my door and I jump out and start sniffing because I can’t help myself. All these smells! Wow! 

Rain watches me, but I see out of the corner of my eye a shadow in the doorway of the house. The shadow that is Dark Man. And the hair on the back of my neck stands straight up.

-- to be continued --

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"The Guardian" to read the story from the beginning

The Guardian Part 5

Waiting. It’s that time of day where the sun is low over the far tree line, the orange light fading from the sky. And that means she’ll be here soon. So I sit. And wait. Someone yells at me from behind and across the yard, but I don’t even swivel an ear. I can see the parking lot from exactly here. In this spot, there’s a little hole in the bushes, so I know when she gets here. So, I sit. 

The nice woman who works here doesn’t usually make me come in with the other dogs anymore. I didn’t like it here at first. And when Rain walked off without me the first time, I howled and barked and cried all night until I my voice was only a whisper of sound. There was so much noise all around me with lots of unfamiliar dogs barking, and shiny metal gates clanging, and the feed pans would screech across the hard floor in my den and the others around me. At least until I learned to tune out the noise. 

I didn’t eat that night or the next morning and the nice woman with the round face and pink cheeks had to coax me out into the big grassy yard where she talked to me and petted me while we walked around. Well, she walked and I kept pulling back. I didn’t know her and she was pulling me away from the direction of the blue door and Rain. Where had Rain gone? Would she be back? She said she would and I tried to believe. But I was scared she had left me. How could we help each other if I’m left here without her?

But you know what? She did come back to me. The very next day near sundown, I heard Rain’s voice calling me from the doorway to the big yard and I ran full tilt into her nearly knocking her down. She sat on the ground right there, hugging me and laughing, as I licked her face and then tucked my nose into her armpit where I stayed for a long while, breathing in her scent so I wouldn’t forget her ever.

Rain stayed with me a long time. She talked and I listened, her voice once more the soothing song of gentle rainfall. But, before I was ready to be alone again, she stood up and said she had to go. She promised to return. She came back this time but what if she didn’t again? 

I stood on my hind legs when Rain stood up and I wrapped my front legs around one of hers, holding, whining. I saw her eyes begin to water and she kept talking, but I couldn’t understand her through my own fear. 

Well, that was a long time ago. A long time for a pup anyway. The moon has already gone missing, and then come back to grow big and round again a whole time. I’m already a little taller than I was when Rain brought me here. I’ve gotten used to the other dogs and noises and people. But right now I wait.

There! A familiar car shape pulls into the lot and I start to wiggle. I can’t help it. The door opens and Rain steps out. I bark as loud as I can. And bark again. She looks over toward me, though the bushes block most of her view. I see her smile. 

“Hi, baby!” Her voice is the best sound in the whole world. I circle and dance my feet until she goes in the blue door. Then I race over to the yard door, watching, barking, pacing. The door opens and Rain’s here!

“How’s my girl doing?” Rain asks me, kneeling and hugging me. I feel like she’s been gone forever instead of just a day. I sniff her, she pets me, hugging me close, kissing the top of my head while I try to lick her face. It’s a crazy fun time.

“I have a surprise for you. Really good news.” Her voice is a bit higher in pitch and she talks faster than usual.

“We’ve signed the papers and bought the house in the mountains. Next week I can bring you home to stay!” I’m not sure what all this stuff means yet, but Rain is really happy and excited so it must be good for both of us. Me, I’m just happy she’s here with me right now. I like when Rain is happy. That’s when we run around the yard playing tag or tug-of-war on a rope. She throws balls for me, too, but I don’t go after them because they take me away from her.

She’s not always happy when she comes, though. Those times I cuddle up next to her. Sometimes she’s droopy and her whole body sighs and she talks about how things aren’t the way she thought they would be. Sometimes her body is tense and sort of pulled in on itself and she cries. Those are the worst, and I get as close to her as I can. When that happens, we just sit off in a corner in the big grassy yard. I snuggle and lay my chin on her leg or tuck my head in between her arm and side, while she strokes my head, caresses my ears, and sinks her slender fingers into my thick fur, kneading muscles. I like her touch and our closeness seems to help. She’s usually smiling near the end of her visit. 
Once in a while, I get a Big Reward and she attaches the red leash to my collar and takes me with her in the car where we go and have adventures. But we always end up back here.

“So, it’s the weekend. Where shall we go?”

Weekend! That’s it. That’s the word she says when I get to go in the car with her and do something fun. The Big Reward. We have adventures like going to the forest to hike trails for hours. So many smells that my nose gets tired.

A couple of times we drove to a brick building in the town, and I had to be very quiet.

“No dogs are allowed in the apartments,” Rain said, her brows drawn together a little as she talked to me in a low, firm voice. “You have to be really quiet, and if you are, then you can stay with me tonight, all night long. Since you-know-who is working, you can come in.”

Those times were great. I would climb the stairs with her and go into the rooms that smelled like Rain and yummy food and rabbit and birds. I think the rabbit is very interesting. Rain is teaching me that the rabbit is part of our family. That’s what she says. And we don’t hurt family. I’m still a little confused about it, because I remember chasing a rabbit in the fields where I used to live, but I try to pay attention and learn the rules. The two tiny birds just scatter seeds all over the table and I’m too short to see them very well.

There was another human scent there, too. And I’ve met him. I don’t like him very much. He reminded me of Big Man. They don’t look the same but I could feel anger in the man with the short black hair and intense dark eyes. Wolfie whispers in my head to be careful, possible danger, so I held back from Dark Man. I still don’t much like men anyway. And I didn’t like how Rain acted when the man was around. She would glance at him constantly, always looking to see how he was acting, and she kept me on my leash. 

But the Dark Man was only there the once for a short bit. Rain said he had to go to work. His shirt and pants were the same dark color with a stripe down the side of his pant leg. And he put around his waist a thick leather belt with lots of metal on it. The last thing he did was put a gun into the leather. I knew the word ‘gun’ because I remembered Big Man had one. Big Man used to get his gun when he said he was going hunting. But Big Man’s gun was long while this gun was short. 

But right now, Rain is pulling the red leash out of her back pocket. I circle around her feet, and she laughs.

“Where shall we go today, Kiki?” 

That’s the other name she calls me. It’s a new name. Rain said I needed a proper name, that’s what she told me when she started using the new word. I’m getting used to it. Doesn’t matter to me what she calls me as long as I get to stay with her.

-- to be continued -- 

The Guardian Part 4

I wait in the small, dark room feeling miserable. Where has she gone? I got too nervous and the smell is nearly overwhelming. I shiver. I’m all alone with only the silence of brick and wood to hear my cries. How long have I been here? What’s that? That’s her voice! I stand and bark, I paw at the door.

The door opens and I crawl over to Rain. 

“Oh, baby.”

She’s back. She came back! Is she mad at me? I cry and, as she kneels on the floor, I scramble into her lap. She hugs me tight and I tuck my nose into her armpit.

“I’m sorry you were scared, but I couldn’t take you home with me. It was only a couple hours but it must have seemed like forever to you.”

Rain’s voice is shaking and I lift my head to lick the salty wetness from her cheeks. She smiles and I know for sure she’s not mad. 

“Let’s go outside and then we can get this cleaned up before anyone else gets to work.”

I’m all wiggles now as she puts my new leash on the collar. I pull ahead toward the sunlight I see at the end of the hall. It’s just a crack of yellow where someone propped the door open but I smell the morning calling in cheerful notes of greeting. Rain talks to one of the men who always speaks in a calm voice to me.

“Thanks, Tom, for opening the door.”

“You bet. Figured some fresh air would help clear out the stink. Did she make a big mess in the bathroom?”

“Yeah. But it’ll be easy to clean.”

“Poor pup.”

“I was here working until nearly three this morning, but I couldn’t take her home with me. He would have been furious.”

“It’s okay. No one else will be here for another hour or so.” The man’s voice was fading as we headed out the door. 

Rain follows me as I pull ahead of her across the hard pavement to the wonderful grass and weeds. I squat and pee. I’m surprised I have any left. I thought it all came out in the room when I was all alone. 

“Good girl. Good potty.”

Well, at least Rain is happy with me out here. I’m so hungry. I run up to Rain now that I’ve peed, eager to have breakfast and play. She lets me go to the end of the leash and we walk all over the field. I breathe in the dawn, so cool and crisp and full of smells. Soon though -- too soon because I wasn’t done sniffing at the hold I found -- we began walking back to the big building. I started to lag behind. Was Rain going to put me in the dark room again? I sit down and the leash goes straight between us. Rain stops and comes back to me. I just stare at her. 

“Okay, listen. I’m sorry, but I didn’t know what else to do last night.”

She wasn’t mad. Her voice was soft and light, and she sat down on the curb to talk to me.

“I have a plan now. Not a great one. But it’s the best I can come up with. You’re just going to have to trust me, baby.”

I listen. And I sit as close to her as I can get, my chin on her knee as she pets me. She sinks her fingers into my fur. I relax a little. Okay. I can do this. I can be brave. The tip of my tail taps the concrete, and Rain smiles.

“Good girl.” She puts both hands on my face and rubs the base of my ears. I groan in pleasure. 

Rain then attaches the leash to her belt loop, and pulls a handful of kibble from her coat pocket. She calls the leash our umbilical. I don’t know that word, but I can sense safety and connection. So it’s good. I think it means she doesn’t want to lose me, and I trot along with her. 

I let my thoughts rest and just tag along wherever she goes, sniffing and watching. Back and forth we go. Rain gets a bucket, and some other things, from a musty smelling closet. Then she goes into the dark room where I made the stinky mess. I halt and sit just outside the door. I sure am glad that I don’t have to go back in there. Bad place.

* *

I feel good. I’m stretched out on my side, nearly dreaming. This was a nice day. I stayed with Rain or under her desk most of the time and I watched all the people and machines. No one paid me any attention. I guess they were used to me already. This is way better than being on the farm with Big Man. I kind of miss running loose in the fields after the cattle, but that wasn’t very often and I’m already forgetting those beasts with their clumsy, slow way of not going where I wanted them to go. And sometimes they would snort and kick at me with their hind legs when I got too close. I always had to watch them carefully. So maybe I don’t miss them. This is better.

Oh good! Food again. I alert and sit up. Rain laughs. I notice that whenever Rain eats, I get to. Not the same food thought. She gives me yummy crunchy nuggets while she eats gooey food out of a paper bag. Her food smells different than mine. I don’t complain, though. I eat what she gives me. Then I stare at her while she eats. I don’t whine, just stare. She smiles and, once in a while, gives me a tiny bit of her own food. I take whatever she gives me carefully out of her hand as I don’t want to hurt her. She always tells me how good I am.

“Okay, baby, it’s five o’clock. Time to go.”

That word “go” is one I know. I jump to my feet and wag my tail. I think it’s time for The Plan. Rain told me about it but I didn’t understand most of what she said. But I trust her. 

* *

Oh no. I stare straight ahead. The noise of lots of dogs barking is making me curious. I can’t see any of them, but I know they are just beyond the trees. But my belly is all twisty from the ride in the car. Rain had put the window down for me but I still don’t feel good. I don’t think I like this place. Why are we here?

We both sit here in our seats and I can feel Rain’s sadness. It’s like waves flowing over me. She pushes the fingers of her right hand into the thick fur around my shoulders and rubs. I feel taut nerves sending little sparks off her fingertips. 

“I hate to do this, baby, but it’s the only option.”

I hear the constriction in her voice, and I put my ears flatter on my head. I don’t care at all about the other dogs now. I only want to be with Rain. I start to tremble.

“We better get this over with.”

Rain sighs and opens her door. She swings her legs out and stands. I scoot across from my seat to hers very fast to follow her, but she’s quick, too.

“Hold on!”

With one hand she holds my collar and the other snaps the leash onto it. Good. I like the leash because it connects me to her. I hop out of the car as she steps back. We walk toward a wood building, the sound of the car door slamming behind us is loud as a shot. I slink along next to her legs. I’d sit down and refuse to go further but I don’t know where I am. And I don’t want her to leave me here in the dirt driveway. 

Together, we head for the big blue door.

~ to be continued ~

The Guardian Part 3

I barked once and felt my ears lay flat as my voice echoed out and up to the ceiling. The space where Rain brought me was a long table against a wall. She had looped a line around my neck. I could have told her she didn’t need to. I wasn’t going anywhere without her. 

“Now, baby, you have to be quiet for a bit. I have to get some work done.”

Her hand stroked my head. I sat on her foot nearest me and kept watch. The bread and water earlier on the steps had settled my tummy, and the hum of equipment was causing my eyelids to droop. Lots of strange noises here, but Rain was calm. I didn’t think any of the weird objects would hurt me if I stayed close to her. She began tapping her fingers very fast on a piece of plastic on the table, and I sensed her focus turn away from me. I shifted a little more of my body onto her feet, leaning against her legs. I was so tired. Before I knew it, I was lying on her feet. Still watchful though. I didn’t want to fall asleep. Once in a while, a man would come near Rain to talk. I would growl, a low rumble. 

“You’re safe. He’s fine.” Rain’s gentle voice reassured me. Okay. As long as the men didn’t reach toward me or Rain. That was okay.

Rain stood up and walked across the room. Was she leaving me? I scrambled to my feet and whined. I wanted to follow but the line kept me near the table. I whined louder and struggled a little, starting feel panic racing into my feet from my chest. I licked my mouth, then turned my head to bite at the line. 

“Shush now. I’m right here.”

Rain pulled my attention to her as she spoke from across the room. Her voice wasn’t loud so I don’t think she was angry. And her voice didn’t shake so I don’t think she was panicking like me. I stopped squirming as she continued to talk softly in the distance. I just listened to the rhythm of her voice soothing my nerves. I could feel the thread of energy between us flowing steady and sure. I lifted my nose a little and caught her scent as the breeze from an opening door drifted my way then traveled on down the shadowy hall.

The morning continued in this pattern. And I started to feel okay when Rain would get up to walk around the room. Once, though, she walked down the hall into a room where I couldn’t see her and when I heard a door shut, I freaked out. I started barking, lunging and then biting at the line. Where did she go? Quick as a flash of light from the sky, Rain came running back to me as the door slammed behind her and a loud male voice yelled.

“Sorry, Bill.” Rain raised her voice louder than normal. But then she hugged me close to her.

“I’m sorry, baby. You can some with me.”

I followed her into a small, windowless room and stood anxiously as the door closed us inside. She messed with her clothes and, wait, I smelled urine. We weren’t outside and there wasn’t any dirt. Why was she peeing here? Is this where I am supposed to pee, too? I looked at the floor, then stared at Rain and tilted my head sideways. She laughed. I liked how she laughed a lot with me. I wagged my tail, then sniffed all along the tile floor, the walls, the metal pipes, and the shiny white ‘bucket’ she was sitting on. I sneezed as a strong odor burned my delicate nose on its inside. Sneezed again.

“Oops. Must be the ammonia the janitor uses, huh?”

I didn’t much like this room, but if Rain was here, I would deal with it. 

“Okay. Let’s go see if we can find your family.”

Rain untied the line from the table leg and we were out in the sunshine real fast. Cold, fresh air tickled my face. Joy! And soon, dry brown grass was prickling under my paws. I could pee. Joy! I kept my eyes on Rain but I really did need to pee, squatting and letting loose a flood. 

“Good girl!”

All I did was pee, but Rain was using a happy, high-pitched voice so I guess I did good. I wiggled all over and she was laughing and rubbing me up and talking. Talking to me! She was treating me like I was important. Strange but made me feel really good. And safe.

We walked across a big field to another parking lot but this one was much bigger than the one where Rain’s building was. And lots of noisy cars and trucks were moving around. Voices were loud and all mixed up, running together, and I couldn’t understand any words. I stayed close to Rain’s legs, my tail tucked up under my belly. I didn’t like this place either. So I stuck with Rain.

“Here we are.”

Opening a door that I almost ran into -- I would have if Rain hadn’t pulled back on the line just in time, because I could see through to the other side -- we walked into a building that smelled great. Food smells were everywhere and other dogs had been here, too. Rain laughed as my nose went to the floor and stayed there as I sniffed and wobbled and darted here and all over. She just followed me. Once, I almost forgot about her and scared myself. My toenails scrabbled on the slippery floor as a skidded back around a corner that hid her from my view for a minute. She knelt and gave me a hug. 

“It’s okay. I’m here, baby.”

A wall of leather and cloth loops, all sizes and colors, loomed ahead. A short woman with stinky shoes walked over and stretched her hand out to me but I shrank back and hid behind Rain. The two of them started talking. I stretched my nose toward the woman’s shoes. Not cow. Horse. Rain was telling Stinky Shoes about finding me. I started sniffing again. I felt better when no one tried to touch me. Except Rain. I loved it when she touched me.

“Hey, baby, how about this one?”

Rain knelt and put a pretty red collar around my neck. It jingled when the matching lead was attached to it. I liked it because it was wide and easy on my neck. Big Man used to just loop a chain around my neck. That was yucky. This is nice, though. 

“Look how pretty you are!”

Rain was happy and that made me wag my tail. I almost bowed to her, but caught myself. Maybe she wouldn’t like that. Big Man never did. But both Rain and Stinky Shoes were making over me. I hovered between liking the attention and being nervous because they were staring at me. Big Man used to ignore me except when I got to work the cattle. Me and Crazy Ass -- that’s what he called the other dog who was older than me and grumpy, who walked with a limp -- got to go out and bring in the cows regular. Big Man once said I was “a natural.” It sounded like a good thing but I got dumped anyway. But I like Rain ever so much better so I don’t want to mess up and have to go somewhere else. So I watched Rain closely, trying to please her. 

I discovered that life moves very fast off the farm. Rain stopped a minute and gave some papers to Stinky Shoes. The machine Stinky Shoes tapped on made bell noises that jarred my taught nerves. I was happy when Rain rushed me out of there, carrying a small bag, but leaving behind a paper that I saw the woman putting in the window.

“That’s you, baby. I don’t know if someone is looking for you or not. But I have a plan if they aren’t. Don’t you worry.” Rain patted me on my side and, with her lips puckered, made a noise that sounded sort of like the ground squirrels that used to tease me. Funny for her to do that but it got my attention quickly.

“This way. We still have to get to the vet’s office down the street before my lunch hour is up.”

Uh-oh. I recognize that word -- vet. Yuck. 

The rest of the day passed in a whirl of sights and sounds. Men started coming back to the building so I scrunched up under the table with just my chin on Rain’s feet. She couldn’t pet me easily but I could breathe in her scent so I was okay. My hip itched from a sharp prick I got at the vet’s office but I didn’t yelp when it happened. Rain had cooed at me, and kissed my face. 

One time, the machine on the table rang and she picked up the plastic bone, putting it to her ear and mouth. Was she going to chew on it? No. An angry, loud voice seemed to be coming from inside the bone and I felt my hackles rise. It didn’t make sense. Where was the person? Whatever it was, Rain’s heart rate increased, and I could smell fear seeping from her skin. Her voice wasn’t the same as when she talked to me. 

“I have to work late ... no, I won’t bring her home ... I know they don’t allow dogs ... did you hear back from the realtor?”

I tried to hear the words coming out of the bone but they were hard to understand because Wolfie was warning me to be careful. I kept nudging Rain’s thigh with my nose and she seemed to relax just a bit by sinking her fingers into my fur. I licked her wrist. She was helping me. I knew I could help her, too. We had to stick together.

~ to be continued ~ 

The Guardian, Part 2

free photo © Ichtor | Dreamstime.com

I watch the door as men come and go, the sun soon high overhead but not very hot. Too soon to be hot outside, the grass and weeds were still brown and brittle. But I’m thirsty and panting, my tongue hanging out one side, because it’s been ages since I had a drink from that mud puddle. One of the noisy men had placed a tin pan nearby with water in it, but he put it on the concrete. I wouldn’t have any cover. Too exposed. I tried to be patient. I had learned a lot about patience back at the farm. Wolfie said that someone in that building was my purpose, and Wolfie hadn’t guided me wrong yet. We had learned a lot together. And so I watched the door. 

Click. That got my attention. The door cracked open and I heard voices whispering. They probably thought I couldn’t hear them but my ears pricked forward--I had big ears for my size--and the words were clear.

“Where is it?”

I trembled. Such a soft, sweet voice. The voice of a female.

“There. See. By the edge of the concrete along the back, near the yellow parking stop. Near the open space. Pup is in the weeds. Black face.”

“Oh, I see it. Poor thing.”

“Won’t come to any of us. But we stopped parking the trucks there hoping not to scare it away.”

I kept my gaze steady. Could I catch the woman’s glance? So far, the two females I’d met were better than the men. 

Big Man lived with Wild Hair. My names for them. They never seemed to call each other by just one name so I wasn’t sure who they were. But Wild Hair never tried to hit or kick me. And sometimes, when Big Man had driven away in his truck and left me at the farm, Wild Hair would come out to where I was chained and give me a bit of sale bread soaked in bacon grease. Oh my. I thought life was good then. She didn’t ever say much, but once in a while ... I sighed at the fond memory ... Wild Hair would squat down and gently rub my ears and scritch me under the chin. I would wiggle and wine and, once, she almost smiled through the dirty lines on her splotchy face. But a noise, I think once of the chickens must have pecked at a rusty tin can, that noise startled Wild Hair and she jumped to her feet and scurried back to the house.

The other female I’d met was a small one and more fun, but she could hurt me sometimes, too. I don’t think she meant to, but she did. This other female was little, only as tall as Big Man’s waist, and he laughed often when she was visiting. A black, clunky car that was very loud would stop at the mailbox, a back door would open, and she would sort of slide off the back seat, then slam the door shut and stare as the car sped off in a cloud of dust. Her shoulders would slump and she would trudge down the dirty driveway. 

Her first visit--I wasn’t much of a dog yet, and was still stupid, that’s what Big Man said--Girl was very kind and we had a lot of fun. She would toss a stick and I would race to get it and jump on her when I brought it back. Oh, she laughed and it sounded like sunshine on a spring day. But, after a while, Big Man came out of the house and saw us. 

“No!” 

Uh, oh. Big Man’s face was way redder than usual and his eyebrows were in one frazzled line across the top of his head. My ears flattened and I tucked my tail and waited. Running was worse than waiting, because I couldn’t run very far for long. At least I’d learned that much even if I was still stupid. 

“That one’s a working dog, girl. Don’t play with her. Make her behave. Like this.”

Big Man yanked me by my tattered collar until I was sitting.

“Stay.”

I was very still. But then Girl giggled and began petting me and I got all wiggly and tried to lick her hands that tasted of cookies and sour milk.

“No!”

What came next was bad. I try not to think about it. Girl still would visit sometimes, but she did what Big Man told her to. I don’t think she liked it when he put on angry face either. We didn’t have fun anymore. But she never hit me. So women might be okay.

While I’d been remembering, but also watching, the woman from the big building had been quietly walking toward me. Her voice was soft like the kind of rain that only dampened the ground and would pitter-patter on my dog house roof, lulling me to sleep some nights. When I was first at the farm, I would pretend that the rain was my Mom singing to me in the scary dark where I was all alone. I quivered but let the woman--I named her Rain--get closer. 

“It’s okay, sweetie. I won’t hurt you.”

Rain crooned to me in a sweet, sing-song voice, then sat down in the grass a bit away and continued every once in a while with a comment, her arms relaxed at her sides. She didn’t seem scary at all. In fact, she was kind of sad inside. I could tell. Even though her mouth was smiling at me, there was a deep tension in her. 

“Pretty baby ... don’t you have a lovely black mask ... isn’t it a nice day ... quiet now that the surveyors are all out on jobs ... .”

I began to relax, letting my muscles soften. Rain was no threat. Yes, I think this is her. My purpose. She needed me to help her with the sadness.

I crawled closer, paw by paw. Soon, I was sidled up next to her. She smelled like the wildflowers where the cows once wandered after they pushed down a flimsy fence. I was little back then, but I still remember their sweetness tickling my nose. We sat for a while, Rain and me, easy like. Me watchful. Her talking softly, then quiet. And then it happened. I felt her hand, ever so light, begin to stroke my back, then move to the base of my ears in a gentle pressure that was ever so relaxing. I held very still. 

“It’s okay. I won’t ever hurt you.”

I couldn’t help myself. I trusted her. I crawled into her lap and sighed. And she sighed, too. Like we were one breath. We stayed like that for a long while, me and Rain as one creature. Wolfie was right. Rain was my purpose. I wondered what came next?

~ to be continued ~

P.S. For you writers out there, I know that I need to get my 'tense' consistent, but right now, the story is fresh, first draft, off-the-cuff without editing. Maybe later on I'll pull it all together with proper editing... :-)

The Guardian

     I crouched beneath the tall grass along the edge of the parking lot. My ears twitched back and forth uneasily and I whimpered. Just a bit because, truthfully, I was terrified. I had barely made it across the double-lane highway alive and the men yelling at me didn't help.
     Big, smelly men banging tailgates and leaving horrible fumes clogging my nose as they roared off in white trucks with huge tires. I knew what a truck bed was and theirs were cluttered with strange looking objects that were nothing like the wood or hay bales I was used to seeing. The beds of these trucks looked like torture chambers so I for sure wanted to stay away from them. I couldn't imagine getting stuck in there.
    "Hey, pooch, come here."
     A low, gruff voice was calling but I scooched back further. Every time the man moved forward, I retreated, watching him with alert eyes. I'd been told I had a strong gaze so I did my best to look tough. Near as I could tell, men weren't to be trusted. They would just as soon give you a smack as pet you. But, oh, I was so hungry my insides were rigid. I don't know how long it has been since I was dropped out of the truck near the highway, but long enough to feel like I was starving. Yes, I know I look grown up but I'm still just a pup, only five months old, and I don't have any idea how to feed myself.
     You might be wondering how I could know all these people words and understand voices. But I guess I was born this way. I don't know if I'm different or not. I'm just me. I do know that it's probably because I am here for a reason. I was born with a purpose. I don't know what it is yet, but I'm sure I will recognize it when it happens. I chose this life, but all of that pre-birth wisdom is sort of murky like that puddle I drank out of a while back. This life hasn't been quite what I expected.

     I was born in a dusty stable along with five brothers and one sister. Mom was really good to us. I loved it the most when she would lick me all over after breakfast and then let me snuggle up under her chin. That was prime territory so I made sure to eat first, shoving the others aside, and then squirm up to her face. She was great and I felt so safe.
     But then, one day I was yanked away from her while I was still having breakfast and thrust into the arms of a huge man with nasty breath who held me out by the scruff of my neck. He turned me one way and then another, cocking his big round head. His tiny dark eyes were tucked deeply into folds of red flesh behind a bulbous nose traced with blue lines. I made the mistake of looking down and got so scared I peed. It was a long way to the ground. The man just laughed and shook me a bit. I figured I should be as still as possible and maybe he would take me back to Mom.
     "She's a quiet one, eh?"
     "Yup, best in the bunch. The other little bitch yaps all the time."
     "I'll take her."
     I saw the men shake hands and the one holding me walked over to his big blue truck and sort of just dropped me onto the hot metal of its floor. I kept quiet. I saw some straw int he corner so I hustled over as fast as my stubby legs could carry me but I still wasn't real steady so I wobbled and fell a couple times.
     "She old enough?"
     "Sure. She's six weeks. Plenty old. Gotta get rid of the rest so that I can put their mum back to work."
     Then, before I knew it, the truck sputtered then roared, and wild wind was swirling around me, dust up my nose making me sneeze, as we zoomed off down the bumpy road. I heard a howl in the distance and I returned Mom's cry, but I don't think she heard me. I had been stolen and I knew that was the last I'd see of Mom. I tried to stay in the corner all curled up, though the vibrations kept sliding me out of it. I whimpered in my solitude and wondered where I was going to end up.

Anyway, things didn’t get much better from there which is why I have become pretty darned suspicious of men. But I kept watching the door of the big building because Wolfie told me that I would find my purpose here. Wolfie is the name I gave to my instinct, that inner knowing that tells us what to do, gives advice and generally tries to keep us alive. Like how it told me to be very quiet whenever Big Man came around and he might not notice me, especially when he was smelling like the brown bottles scattered around the trash can. Big Man named me Tough Nut. You would probably refer to me as stoic and aloof, and, oh yeah, wise beyond my months. Thus, the lack of trust in males.

~ to be continued ~ 

Part 2 Posted August 16th -- keep checking back for more of the story.