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There it was again. That sound. The feeling.
I sensed it long before it occurred. A static in the air. My nerves on edge.
A storm was rolling in. I could smell the rain already.
In a matter of seconds, a steady breeze rose to a gusty roar. Outside the kitchen windows, the branches were lashing at one another, throwing warped shadows against the kitchen wall inside where the yard floodlight shone in. The movement of air tickled at my whiskers and lifted the fur along my spine. Grayson had left the windows cracked to keep the house cool. He’d regret it tomorrow.
The first rumble was far away. Then there was another, and another... and another. Each one was louder and longer than the one before. Lightning flickered faintly. By the time the rain began, the wind was blowing fiercely. It buffeted the siding of the house, rattled the gutters, and knocked a plastic chair over on the porch with a terrible clatter. Then, suddenly, the floodlight was extinguished. Even the faint orange light on the display of the oven went off. The buzz of the refrigerator was silenced. For brief moments, the world was thrown into bursts of dazzling light followed by utter darkness.
I hunkered down in my crate, knowing I wouldn’t sleep that night. At Brandy’s, I’d slept next to her bed soundly, knowing she was close by. Whatever the reason, Grayson didn’t seem to think I belonged upstairs where he slept.
I didn’t like this arrangement—so I let him know.
Pitching my head back, I let out the plaintive howl of my coyote cousins. The song of my kin.
Aroo-aroo-aro00o00o!
Walls of rain slapped at the windows, some of it dripping over the inside edge of the windowsill. The wind hammered harder.
Aroo-roo-roo-ro00ooo!
A flash of white. Blinding. The air exploded. Sizzled. Jolted my heart. Separated every hair on my body one from another.
I plastered myself against the back of the crate, desperate for escape. Outside, just beyond the kitchen window, a bough of the giant sprawling oak tree creaked. An eerie groan was followed by a massive cracking sound as the bones of the great tree splintered and then gave way. Branches crashed against the ground with an unearthly woompf!
Run! my instincts told me. Get away!
Energy rushed through me, gave me strength. I rammed my paws between the bars of the crate door, pulled and pulled. Thrashed about. Yowled my anxiety, calling for help.
I didn’t feel safe here. Wanted out.
Run! my instincts screamed at me. Find a hiding place! Stay alive!
Harder and harder, I threw my body against the sides, dug at the door, bit at the wires.
“Sooner?”
Grayson’s voice, meek and perplexed, wafted from upstairs. Then his feet padded down the treads. My anguish increased. By the time he got to the dining room, he was pounding across it in his stilted gate. His fingers flipped the light switch. Nothing.
“Hold on, girl. Hold on.” He opened a drawer next to the lifeless fridge. A click and a narrow beam of light followed. “Oh... my.”
My heart beat wildly, then skipped. I panted shallowly, my head abuzz, every nerve stripped bare. He was going to set me free. Save me!
I yipped for him to hurry. Whined inconsolably.
He knelt before the crate, undid the latch, and yanked open the door. Grabbed my collar and pulled me into his arms. I twisted in his hold, fought for freedom. But he only held me tighter.
“Shh, shh. It’s okay, Sooner. I’m here. It’s okay.”
Even as I struggled in his arms, he stroked and soothed me. Spoke to me calmly.
Outside, the flickering continued. I shuddered each time the sky boomed.
He sat with me for a very long time. Until the blasts of sound became less frequent and the flashes diminished. Which was a very, very long time.
At last, my nerves settled, although my heart was still pounding in my ears. But in the growing tranquility, I was aware of a new sensation: the strong beating of his own heart as he held me to his chest.
I tucked my snout against the crook between his neck and shoulder. Flicked my tongue at his ear.
Thank you.
“I know,” he whispered, his fingers scratching lightly behind my ear. “You must’ve been frightened out there alone for so many days. But everything’s all right now. You don’t need to worry anymore. You’re safe here.”
Finally, he let go of me. Exhausted, I lay down, my chin on his thigh as he sat on the floor with his legs outstretched.
“Come on upstairs.” He stood, a grimace on his face as he reached down to rub at his lower leg. One by one, he closed all the windows downstairs. I followed him. “But don’t expect me to hold you all night. I could really use some sleep. Between you and this farm, I’m all worn out.”
His hand beneath my collar, he guided me up the stairs. Once inside the bedroom, he closed the door.
Without waiting for an invitation, I bounded up onto the bed and sank into its welcoming softness. After making a few circles to find just the right spot, I lay down with a grunt. In the middle.
Grayson rolled his eyes. “Make yourself at home, Sooner.” He peeled back the covers and slid underneath, then poked me in the side. “The least you could do is scoot over. You’re taking up half the bed, if not more.”
I had no idea what he was trying to tell me, but it sounded like he was being affectionate. So I slurped at the side of his face to let him know the feeling was mutual.
Good human. You’re starting to understand.
—o00o—
––––––––
“Sooner? Hey, Sooner, where are you?”
Hiding, obviously.
“Come here, girl. I have something for you... So00ooner!”
How dumb did he think I was? I’d heard it rattle. I could detect the sound from a mile away—pills hitting the inside of a plastic bottle. I knew what was coming next.
“Sooner? Sooner, Sooner, Sooner!”
I was hiding upstairs in the bathroom because he’d been acting suspiciously. Did he think I was going to come running? That I didn’t know any better? That I’d fall for his false overtures again?
His feet tapped across the kitchen floor, the dining room and living room, then plodded up the stairs in that uneven gait of his. When he hit the landing, he went momentarily quiet. He’d figured out I wasn’t going to come running. Then he descended the stairs, unhurried.
From somewhere, the snap of my leash chinked. Floorboards creaked as he made his way back to the bottom of the stairs.
“Hey, Sooner,” he called up the stairway. “Want to go for a walk?”
A walk? I peeked around the toilet, dared a look into the hallway. I wanted so badly to dash down the stairs, sit to have my leash clipped on, and take him for a walk. He needed the exercise.
But...
I hadn’t forgotten the rattling sound. Hadn’t forgotten the bitter taste, the chalkiness, the lump in my throat. How the pills made me want to puke every time. Since I’d spit that first pill out, he’d tried hiding them in rolled-up bologna, globs of peanut butter, bowls of yogurt, chunks of cheese, and even small squares of steak sandwiches. Whenever he took an interest in watching me eat, it was a tip-off there was a hidden pill. As much as I loved human food, swallowing those pills was not worth any price.
“Let’s go! Time for a walk.”
If I remained where I was long enough, there was a chance he’d forget about it or just plain give up. But he could also get busy with some other chore and forget about the walk, too. He might even go without me.
Walks were all I had these days. A chance to stretch my muscles and work my limbs. And the smells! This house smelled of dust and old wood, but outside... outside I never knew what fantastic smells I might discover.
The things I could roll in—
“So00ooner!” He rattled the leash again.
I couldn’t help myself. Adrenaline flooded my veins, propelled me out of the upstairs bathroom, down the stairs, spinning at the bottom to change direction. At the end of the dining room, I turned again, slowing, my hind feet kicking up the corner of the big rug to bunch it behind me.
Grayson stood at the front door, smiling, the leash held lightly in one hand. I skidded to a halt, ducking my head slightly so he could more easily find my collar. He took hold of my collar and clipped the leash on.
We were going outside!
Walk, walk, walk! I barked. Walk, walk, walk, walk, walk—
“Quiet, Sooner. You’re hurting my ears.”
Walk, walk—
He clamped both hands on my muzzle. “All right, I get it. But first”—he kept his grip on my nose with one hand and slipped the other inside his shirt pocket—“you have to take your morning antibiotic.”
I crumpled to the floor. Flopped over. Went belly up. Locked my teeth shut.
No. Way. Not happening.
He shoved two fingers inside my lips, cranked my jaws open, and plopped the pill inside. Before I could spit it back out, he held both hands on my muzzle.
“Swallow, swallow.”
I waited. Looked at him innocently. Wiggled a little to let him know I wanted up. The bitterness was making my eyes water.
“Did you swallow it, huh?”
I whined softly. He could interpret that however he wanted.
He let go of me. I scrambled to my feet. Went to stand by the door, looked up at him, and—
I hacked the pill onto the floor. Darn it.
I’d tried to keep it tucked between my tongue and the roof of my mouth until we got outside and he wasn’t looking, but my taste buds had rejected it.
“Aw, Sooner. It’s going to taste worse the second time.”
He was right about that. It tasted even worse the third and the fourth time. He finally shoved it so far down my esophagus that the only way to eject it would have been to toss up my breakfast along with it, but somehow, amazingly, that didn’t happen. It lodged itself halfway down, a dry lump blocking my innards. He patted me between the shoulder blades. I coughed and gagged, but instead of bringing the pill up, it went down.
“Doc Hunter says you have to finish all the pills so your wounds won’t get infected and they’ll heal more quickly. Every last one. To be honest, I don’t like making you take them. But if it makes you all better so you can go back to your owner...” His words trailed away.
Mercifully, he fetched my water dish and let me drink my fill. The medicine sat in my stomach, its bitterness dissolving as I fought waves of nausea.
I’d let him believe he’d won this battle. For now.
He stroked my head, then ran his hand down my back. “Ready for our walk now, girl?”
Ready? Yes, there was another word I knew. It meant pay attention, because we were about to do something important.
He flung the door open. Together, we walked out into the sunshine. To take in a new day. A new beginning.
I forgave him for jamming the pill down my throat. But I wouldn’t forget.
—o00o—
––––––––
Grayson had been asleep for hours. Snoring softly at intervals. The window open wide. A welcome breeze lifting the curtains. Outside, crickets chirped a symphony.
Our walks had become increasingly longer. But they came with a price—I had to swallow a pill before we went outside. Nasty things. I didn’t understand why Grayson insisted on forcing them down my throat. They never sat well in my stomach. Eventually, however, I learned the less I fought him, the sooner our walks began. Last night, however, the pill had made me especially nauseous. Not even the piece of bacon Grayson fed me from his plate and the leftover gravy drizzled over my kibble could make the nausea go away. It had kept me up half the night. So I gazed around the room, considering my life as it was now.
Every time the curtains fluttered high, I saw stars from where I lay, bright white against the blue-black bowl of the sky, winking down at me. There was so much here on the farm that was different from the life I’d known before. So much quiet. So much predictability. So much... boredom.
But in the mundane was a peace with which I was uncomfortable. It made me restless. Like a part of me was missing—that part that made me feel alive with purpose. The purpose Brandy had given me: precision, obedience, loyalty, speed, accuracy, instinct.
She had always asked so much of me. And I accepted willingly. Even when I was unsure. Because I always knew she would help me understand. She was good at that. And Brandy was proud of me.
Grayson, on the other hand, asked so little. Nothing almost. While I welcomed the lazy days and slow pace as I healed from my ordeals, I also bristled at it. It got under my skin like a bur. Irritated and frustrated me. He often wandered around aimlessly, no hurry in any task and even less focus. He cared for the horses on a loose schedule, but there was a disconnect there. He didn’t understand them, nor they him. I couldn’t entirely blame him. They were massive animals, powerful and sometimes temperamental. I myself didn’t dare go in the stalls alone with them. When he did, he was very tentative. It wasn’t that they were mean, not without cause. It was their sheer size.
With me, however, he was different. Clueless still, but determined. Caring, even. As if he really was trying. I’d give him time. Provided I survived the boredom.
Stretching, I flopped over onto my back and closed my eyes, let the breeze cool my belly. Let sleep carry me to another place, another time...
“Over!”
I raced to the next jump, gathered the power in my muscles, sprang upward, over, landed on light feet, pivoted, took three more strides, over the next jump, stretched low, ducked my head, flew through the tunnel—
Buzzzzzzz!
Brandy threw her arms wide. I leaped into them. She hugged me hard and then let me down gently.
“One more second, Sooner. So close! But don’t worry—we’ll run again soon. I promise you we’ll get to do it all again.”
Waking with a start, I raised my head to look around.
Brandy was just here. She was! We’d been running agility together. I’d heard her. Felt her arms around me.
I got to my feet. Searched the room. Sniffed under the closet door. Checked under the bed. Looked in the bathroom. Even out the window. I searched for her, listened for her, smelled for her scent. She wasn’t here. She wasn’t, as far as I knew, anywhere.
It was still night out there. The window open. The breeze now faint. The crickets quiet. The stars were dimming as night ebbed and morning approached.
Grayson, too, was still there. No longer snoring. His face stuffed into his pillow, sleeping on his stomach. He wouldn’t be up for hours yet. Even when the sun came up, he would sleep on. Eventually, he’d rise at his leisure, shower, and take his coffee while he watched the morning news.
Just as I was about to lie back down, that sickening feeling washed over me.
After watching him for a while to make certain he was deep in sleep, I crept into the bathroom. I stood over the throw rug that spanned the floor between the toilet and sink, then stretched my neck until—
Blech!
Ah, last night’s supper, bacon and all.
I felt relief and... guilt. Grayson would be displeased. Just like when I was a tiny puppy and my owners yelled at me for not holding my pee or poop after they’d ignored my subtle cues. It was an awful dilemma for a dog to suffer. Dogs were supposed to make these messes outside, but the humans were the doorkeepers, letting us out only when it was convenient for them. I could only hold it in for so long before I felt like exploding. As for puking—there was no holding that back. It came when it came, wherever I might be.
After rearranging the rug to hide the mess since I couldn’t bury it, I slunk back to my spot beside the bed, circled until I was facing in just the right direction and had crumpled my blanket up sufficiently, then drifted off to sleep again, feeling much better physically than I had a short while ago.
I didn’t fully awaken again until I heard Grayson from the bathroom.
“No00oo! Oh, Sooner. Why didn’t you wake me up?” He mumbled to himself some more, then shuffled into the bedroom. “Really? This whole upstairs is hardwood floor, and yet you puked on the rug—why? It’s almost like you were aiming for it.”
The displeasure in his voice made me cringe. Before I could dart under the bed, he took me by the collar, gently but firmly, and led me to the bathroom rug where he pointed at the crumpled rug and puddle of partially digested kibble.
“I know you can’t help it if you’re sick, Sooner, but it’s my fault. Maybe I shouldn’t have given you that bacon and gravy.” Crouching beside me, he pointed to another part of the floor. “Next time, though, aim for any place but the rug, okay?”
Bracing my legs, I waited for him to shove my snout in the mess, to shout at me, or to haul me downstairs and banish me to my crate again. But the punishment never came. Instead, he hugged me, his hand stroking lightly from my withers to my rump, over and over and over.
Without another word, he cleaned up my mess: sopped up the vomit, carried the soiled paper towels downstairs and deposited them in the big trash can there, and put the rug in the washing machine. When he came back up, he lifted my chin with a finger and said, “If you’re done, you can hang out with me for a while. But please let me know if you feel another upchuck coming so I can scoot you over to the edge of the bed, okay?”
Then he went back to bed, patted the mattress beside him, and called my name.
I placed a paw on the mattress, but hesitated. I wasn’t sure. Was he sure?
“Up, Sooner. Up.”
I knew that word. After I jumped up on the bed, I stretched out beside him.
“You know, as much trouble as you are, some days now, you’re the one bright spot.” His fingers found the tickly place on my belly. My hind leg kicked involuntarily. He chuckled as he scratched all the places I couldn’t reach. “It’s been a rough year for me, Sooner. Hell, really. I hope I never go through another like it. Have I told you about it? Geesh, where should I start? Did I tell you about my wife—ex-wife, Fiona? She was... is beautiful. We met when...”
And he proceeded to tell me the story of his life, starting in the middle somewhere.
Dogs didn’t understand every word humans said. Truth was, humans had way too many words. They were an emotional mess, all of them. They held onto grudges. Even though we didn’t understand everything they said or did, we just liked the sounds of their voices and being with them.
Whatever their problems, dogs would always listen. We never judged. We didn’t give unwanted advice.
We were just there. And that alone could make everything better.