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The chilly October wind pushed gusts that rattled bare branches against the windows. Karma woofed under her breath and levered herself upright with effort. Her black brow furrowed, and her short Rottweiler tail quivered. She clawed the soft bedding with low mutterings before settling once again, but immediately stood, unable to find a comfortable position.
Her head cocked to one side and she eyed the nearby sofa. It smelled of Lia, her favorite person. Lia taught her important things a good-dog needed to know. Strong and bold, but always fair, Lia gave Karma fun games to play.
Lia slept here, on the sofa. The other girl, Tee, slept in the other room.
Karma hadn’t known Tee for very long. She carried a gun, but had a hidden hurt inside, one that Karma kept trying to heal with face-licks and snuggles. Tee pretended to be strong, but a good-dog could sniff out hidden broken pieces. Karma wondered how humans could look one way but be something very different. They tried to pretend but could never fool a good-dog.
Dogs never pretended. Dogs always looked and smelled and acted like dogs, no matter what.
Karma loved making Lia happy. Being close to her made Karma happy and feel safe, too. Sometimes, not nearly often enough, they shared feelings so strong that a dog might burst with the sensation. Karma made herself small, so she fit in the curve of Lia’s knees, and they slept that way all night long on the sofa. Until recently. Now, Karma couldn’t curl herself tight enough to fit.
She whined again. Lia and Tee had left as the sun rose and they had been gone forever. Karma begged to go with her girls, but no amount of paw-dancing or butt-wriggling requests changed their minds. She’d been left behind in this stuffy two-room hideaway, all alone, all day long. It made Karma want to howl. So she did.
Karma wondered what she’d done wrong. A good-dog stayed with her people, no matter what. She used to go everywhere, even to visit Tee’s other uniform-wearing friends. But now, she had trouble jumping into cars, or running as fast as before. Her body had grown clumsy and didn’t move right.
She missed playing her favorite games. Karma loved playing the “achtung” game to stop people who raced away. But Karma yearned to stretch into a flat-out butt-tucking run and feel the wind in her face. Even her adored ferocious tug contests with Tee—for a little girl, she was strong!—were better with grass beneath her paws.
Karma’s stubby tail quivered at the thought of mauling a padded sleeve until Tee gave up and fell down laughing with joy. Tee didn’t laugh enough, and Karma had decided that should be part of her job, to make the girl laugh. That was the best! Lia would give the command, and Tee would yell and hold out the sleeve, and squeal when Karma bit down hard. Oh, so much fun! Tee didn’t know the proper words, like “such” to search, or “achtung” to guard, but Karma still understood. She was smart that way.
They still played the hide-and-seek “such” games but finding treats and toys hidden around two rooms bored her. Nothing remained hidden from her nose for long. She remembered leading the young girl Mele, tracking water despite the twists of smoke and swirling fire. Her breath quickened at the memory, and she licked her burn-scarred paws. She wanted another challenge, but maybe one not so dangerous, please.
But now, a tummy flop hurt. Her body no longer obeyed. Karma worried her girls wouldn’t let her play the best games anymore.
Wind teased the tree outside the window so it scratched the glass like cats clawing their way inside. Karma barked at the thought of cats, so much fun to sniff and chase. She barked again, even though she knew no cat-scent was near. But sometimes barking made strangers come to the door. She cocked her head to listen, but no neighbor responded. She was alone, and she didn’t like it.
Grumbling to herself, Karma left the window, caught up her stuffed lamb-toy, and carried it to the sofa. It took two tries to climb onto the soft cushion. She scratched and scratched the fabric, not sure why, but needed to rearrange the surface before settling down. With a sigh, she sank into the softness, but immediately reared back up and dismounted. It felt wrong. She grabbed her lamb-toy again, whining, and paced from the sofa to the window and back again.
The open door to the closet caught her attention. A handful of clothes swayed overhead, and Lia’s tracking boots littered the floor with dirt. Boot-smell comforted Karma. It also meant her girls weren’t tracking without her. She lay down again, snugging one of the boots and lamb-toy close to her swollen tummy.
A sudden sharp pain made her scramble to her feet.
With another grumbled whine, Karma padded into the bedroom to Tee’s bed and hoisted herself up. She wasn’t supposed to jump on Tee’s bed but couldn’t help herself. She grabbed one end of the fabric covering, tugged it loose, and walked backwards while pulling it after her. Karma gathered the spread into a messy pile at the head of the bed. Then she nosed the pillows, paw-thumped them into submission, and settled with care in the new nest.
Karma hadn’t felt normal for many days. At first she got sick every morning, but now she always felt hungry. A gnawing feeling filled her middle now, not hunger, but something akin to that yearning. Karma whined again and scrubbed her face against the sheets with a satisfied moan. She liked the smooth fabric better than her own floor-level pillow. Tee-smell was different than Lia-smell but was the next best thing to her girls being here. Karma sighed, and settled her big head on her paws to wait.
She yelped and jerked. Pressure in her tummy became a sharp, unrelenting pain that came in waves. Different from anything she’d ever experienced. Karma was brave and strong, she’d faced down scary people, survived flood and fire, and would protect her family no matter what. But how could a good-dog fight a hurt on the inside?
Showing her teeth didn’t frighten the pain away. She drowned in the burning sensation she couldn’t escape.
Karma whimpered and shivered, no longer the brave, proud Rottweiler girl. She wished her family would come home. Lia always knew what to do.
