I walk with Chance for a while, judging it safer to have a person next to me than to be alone on the streets at night.
I need to find a safe place to bed down. Maybe with a good night’s sleep, I’ll remember enough to be able to plan my next move tomorrow.
The neighborhood changes from warehouses and stores to small homes. We walk down a street of dilapidated houses packed together with barely any space between them.
In the window of one of the houses, a little girl is jumping up and down on a bed, waving her arms, while her mother pleads with her to stop. I watch the silent pantomime, the mother’s mouth moving, the girl singing, the mother’s frustration turning to laughter as she joins her daughter in song.
“You miss your home, don’t you?” Chance asks.
His voice startles me, and I look away from the window, confused. How can I miss a home I don’t even remember?
“I guess dogs have feelings, too,” Chance says. He bites his lip, thinking hard. “Maybe I can sneak you into my house for one night. We can look for your real home tomorrow before that Animal Control van finds you.”
I like that Chance doesn’t treat me like I’m stupid, even though he has no way of knowing how smart I am.
“Do you want to come home with me?” Chance asks. “Not forever, but just for now?”
Just for now.
My instinct warned me not to trust people. I didn’t listen earlier, and I ended up with Ruben. But as I look at Chance biting nervously at his lower lip, my instinct tells me something different.
Trust him, it says.
I wag my tail to let Chance know I’m willing. Just for now.
“I guess that’s a yes,” he says with a laugh. “If we’re going to be hanging out, I think I need to name you.”
“Name me?”
“I’ll call you Wild. That’s how you looked when you scared those dudes away. Like a wild animal. But you’re not really wild, are you? You’re a good dog.”
I don’t know what kind of dog I am, but I can’t remember my own name. Besides, Wild sounds kind of cool.
“Wild. It’ll be our little joke.”
I yip quietly to let Chance know I approve.
He smiles and reaches out to pet me, but I pull back, staying just out of reach.
“I get it,” Chance says. “No more touching. I promise.”