I wasn’t always a Good Dog.
You have to know that right off—it’s not something
I’m proud of either. But I figure it’s been long
enough that I can face facts and the fact is, I started out a Bad Dog.
I was the only male in my litter. Lotta sisters, a whole lotta sisters
and none of them showed me any respect. I mean when you’re
nipping and biting and playing around, you do NOT go for your only
brother’s um, brotherhood, if you know what I mean. But I
can’t blame them, not really. There were six of us, and
things were crowded in the basket. Mom was pretty patient, but even so,
she had her growly moments, especially when I’d yelp about
being nipped.
“Get used to it, son,” she’d tell me, and
then she’d nose my sisters away with a little
warning. Mom was great.
The People were pretty nice too, and early on Mom told us how to get
them sorted out by smell. Good People smelled like soap and/or nice
things: kibble, food, other dogs or sweat. All of those are grrrreat
smells, and our People here had all of them. I could smell them before
I could see them, and the first time I got picked up, I was so excited
I peed.
That was the start of my being a Bad Dog, sigh.
Anyway, after a while, when other food besides Mom started looking
good, I remember getting taken to a place where People looked at me.
Everywhere—that was embarrassing! They checked my head and my
teeth and my feet and poked me back there with something called
temperature that I really, REALLY hated. Man, I’d rather have
my sisters chew on me nonstop than get that temperature thing again!
And they talked. I didn’t know the lingo yet, but I knew the
tone, and it wasn’t really a happy one. I tried be nice, and
licked every hand that came near me, but apparently I didn’t
quite make the grade on whatever they were looking for. So my sisters
went off, one at a time, and finally, when it was just me, Mom and one
sister left, I was picked out of the basket and put into a box with
holes in it.
Not good. I don’t like being in boxes, not even if they have
holes in them, so I whined and made a lot of noise. I peed, too, but
heck, I was still just a little guy, so I’m not going to feel
too bad about that one. I mean come on--you try getting
shoved into a dark old box with maybe three holes in it and see
if you
can handle the feeling, huh?
Anyway, it wasn’t for long, and when the lid came off, I was
outta there. But it wasn’t my house anymore. This place had
fake grass that was all soft and a really tall spicy-smelling thing
with flashes and weird sounds and lots of paper and string and stuff.
And there was Paul. Ooooh did he smell GOOD. He was a Little People,
and the first time I smelled him I knew he was gonna be my pal, oh
yeah. He smelled like bacon and pancakes, and tasted a little like them
too. I washed ALL his fingers and his hands and his face real good,
even though one of the Big People kept telling him to ‘stop
letting the dog lick you on the mouth, Paul.’
He was a little scared of me, but I kept kissing him until he giggled
and then we played a little tug of war with one of the pieces of ribbon.
Paul was a Good People. He was My People and I loved him right from the
start, from every giggle and hug and race around the yard. He brought
me food and let me sleep next to him up on this high-up, soft place
(I’d stay on the floor until his alpha mom left the room and
THEN jump up) and hang around with him.
I learned about Good People. Good People let you sit under the table,
and if you were very quiet, they’d give you stuff to eat.
Sometimes it was weird stuff, but there was some good stuff too. Good
People let you sit next to them and clean them up—their hands
and faces and necks mostly.
Ooh, ooh, and Good People could do FetchitFetchit too. Something would
go fast and far and you could bring it back to them, and it would
happen again and again! FetchitFetchit with Paul was really fun.
Sometimes it was a stick, and sometimes it was a ball, and sometimes it
was a flat thing, but I could get them and bring them back every time.
Good People also took you for Walks, which were really important. Walks
were really a good time to look for Danger and Check out Stuff and Do
Your Business. And that last one is real important, because if you Do
Your Business in the house, even Good People get mad at you. I learned
pretty fast that Business is for Outside.
So things were good for a long time, until the Loud started.
AlphaMom and AlphaDad started smelling different around each other. A
not good smell. They didn’t smell like each other after a
while. They did Loud a lot, sometimes at Paul and sometimes at me, but
a lot of time at each other. Not play Loud, either. And they slammed
doors too. It made me feel small and scared, so I would get close to
Paul and he’d hug me.
Then AlphaDad left.
AlphaMom and Paul and I just went on for a while. I tried to be good
and not get in the way. I waited for Paul to come home from a place he
called stupidoldschool like he always did in the afternoons and
I’d stick with him. In the morning I’d watch him go
off to stupidoldschool and then slink under the coffee table to sleep
and wait for him.
One afternoon he didn’t come. I went to the door and the
window when it was time. The big yellow thing came but Paul
didn’t get out, and I whined. I went back to the window and
the door and the window and the door and the window and finally
AlphaMom put me in the back yard. She said Paul was on DadWeekend.
She didn’t let me in the house when it got dark, so I found a
place under the bushes to sleep. In the morning, I barked and she
remembered me. I don’t think she wanted to let me in, but I
wagged and made myself crawl on my belly, so AlphaMom let me back
inside. I was thirsty and drank a lot.
All day there was no Paul and I got lonely. I went under his bed and
chewed on one of his socks to feel better. I stayed there a long time
that DadWeekend.
Finally I heard the door late and Paul was back! I had to kiss him lots
and that made AlphaMom mad and she tried to put me in the yard again,
but Paul told her I’d be good.
So Paul would go away for DadWeekend and leave me with AlphaMom. I
tried to stay out of her way; she wasn’t mean to me, she just
sort of . . . forgot me. One time it was DadWeekend and AlphaMom put me
in the yard, and I whined and barked, but all the lights were off, and
I sort of knew that she wasn’t in the house either. When it
got dark the house stayed dark, and I was getting thirsty and hungry
again. I went all around the yard and found a little water in the hose
when I chewed on it.
It was a long time until the kitchen door opened--two days I think, and
I was so hungry that I polished off the kibble in about three minutes.
Anyway, it got so that I was out in the backyard a lot after that.
Sometimes Paul would Loud at AlphaMom, but she’d Loud right
back at him about YourResponsibility and ThatDamnDog.
It took me a while to figure out that I was ThatDamnDog.
Paul always called me HeyBoy.
We didn’t do FetchitFetchit a lot anymore either. Paul would
come out and sit with me and hug me and talk to me but other times
he’d cry and just hug me. I tried to make him feel better,
and I think I did.
Then came a day when I couldn’t make him stop crying. He and
AlphaMom were Louding a lot, and she kept saying Custody and Move. Paul
kept holding onto me, and I was scared, right down to my toenails. Even
AlphaMom petted me, and finally we all piled up on the sofa together
and fell asleep.
That was the last time I saw my Little People.
After Paul went to DadWeekend, AlphaMom put me in my crate in the back
of the car and told me she was really sorry. She also told me I was a
Good Dog, and I wagged my tail because she hardly ever said that to me.
We drove off.
We drove a long time, and I was asleep when the Scary Thing happened.
The car stopped really hard and fast and I bounced in my crate all over
the back. The noise scared me and I howled, but it didn’t
help. Then we fell and I was on my side in my crate. The water from my
bowl spilled on me, getting me all wet. I howled again.
It took a long time for anyone to find me. There were lights and scary
howlings that got closer, and I could smell blood, and tires. There
were people moving around, but they didn’t get to me for a
long time.
I could smell something else too.
Death.
Finally I heard a People opening up the back of the car with a lot of
creaking and little cutting bits fell on me. I whined—I
didn’t want to, but I was scared. The Death smell was strong.
I waited and whined again, and suddenly the door to the crate popped
open and I jumped out. Somebody yelled. “What the
hell!” but I didn’t wait to hear anything. I ran in
the darkness, out onto the dirt and the grass and ran far, far away.
I was always a pretty good runner.
Finally though, I had to stop. My tongue was hanging out and I was
scared. I looked around and sniffed the air, but everything was dark
and I was far away from People. I looked back, and very slowly I
started to GO back, even though Death was there.
There were voices calling when I got closer, saying “here
boy!” and my tail wagged when I heard that. The voices
sounded good, really good. I wanted to go to them because it felt GOOD
to have People calling. I started going faster, but I
couldn’t because my sides hurt. I was thirsty and tired and
scared.
I just wanted to be near somebody.
When I got back to the place, there were only a few People there, and
it was very dark. I kept my head low and wagged my tail a little bit
when I looked at them. I smelled the air, smelling them.
They smelled good. I whined a little.
The Man People looked over where I was, and then he made this
wonderful, wonderful sound! IT was high and sweet and made my tail wag
HARD while my ears pricked up. Before I knew it I was across the road
right in front of him, hoping he’d make that noise again. He
held out a hand and I sniffed it—funny smell, and I sneezed.
The Woman People came over slowly and said “Latex—I
bet that smells funky to a dog.”
“Very probably. He’s a Boxer, a pretty young one.
Let’s see if his collar gives us a name,“ the Man
People said as he petted me. I liked that, and let him do it again. He
had good hands, even if they smelled funny. He touched my throat and I
whined a little, but he was gentle.
“I see tags for rabies, distemper, nothing else. Any ID in
the wreck?”
“Nope. I see bowls and kibble and a few chew
toys—looks like she was taking him somewhere
permanent.”
The Woman People sounded sad, so I looked at her and wagged my tail.
She came over and patted me too. Her hands smelled good—clean
and cool, so I washed them very carefully, even between her fingers.
She giggled, just like Paul did and that made my tail wag harder.
“Friendly boy, isn’t he?”
“Boxers are, by nature. I bet he’s thirsty
too—do you have any water with you, Sara?”
In a minute, she came back with my bowl and oooooooh I drank and drank
and drank and then I had to kiss her fingers again because it tasted
sooo good. She giggled again, and petted me while the Man People went
away for a moment. When he came back he did the noise thing again, and
I scooted over to him.
I LOVED that noise!
He petted me and then looked at the Woman People. “We need to
call Animal Control.”
“Why? He’s not dangerous, and he’s not
dead, Grissom. If it’s a matter of hanging onto him for a few
days until we find our vic’s next of kin—“
“You want to take him home?” The Man People came
closer to us and squatted down, doing something with his hands. They
made funny snappy noises and I sniffed them—much better. They
tasted better too. “Sara—we’re not
talking about a Chihuahua here. A dog this size is going to need some
space and an enclosed yard and walks—“
“Oh I
get it. You
want to take him.”
“I didn’t say
that—“
“You didn’t have to. I can see
it in your smirk, Mister.”
“Well I do
have a yard—“
I liked them, so I sat right in the middle and stayed very still,
letting them talk. I liked their smells. She smelled like hot breakfast
drink, and waffles, and he smelled like her. They talked a little more,
and finally the Man People got up. I waited for him to make that GREAT
noise again; I was quivering, waiting for it---
He made it YEAH! I shot up and danced around him, I was so happy. He
looked at the Woman People and she was laughing.
“Puppy love—“ she told him.
I got to go home with the Man People, who was AlphaGrissom. He put me
in my crate (after all the sharp bits got dumped out) and talked to me
the whole time we were in the car. I was scared to be in a car, but his
voice was nice.
“ . . . Find you a vet to look you over. I’m pretty
sure you’re shaken up. You need a name. I can’t
keep calling you ‘dog’; it’s not . . .
dignified, and I don’t know what your owners call you.
Hmmmmm. Back when I was in Minnesota I had a landlord named Bruno
Batistessa. Ex-Navy, part time boxer. You look a little like him. Maybe
that would do. Bruno? Is Bruno all right with you?”
Bruno was all right with me.
When we stopped, AlphaGrissom opened the back of the crate and I waited
for the noise. YES! He did it again for me. I loved how smart he was! I
followed him up a few steps and he opened a door. Carefully I went in,
sniffing hard at everything. I went into all the rooms, even the ones
with the flushing waterbowl, and the other one with the high-up soft
place.
The Woman People’s smell was here, oh yeah. And I could smell
cooking and all sorts of interesting things: bugs and plastic and
foooooooood.
My tummy growled, and I whined to say I was sorry. AlphaMom
didn’t like it when I bugged her about food, but AlphaGrissom
set out my bowl in the kitchen and oooooooohhhhhkibblekibblekibble!
I like kibble. I like to dig in it and crunch it and sometimes push it
around on the floor. Sometimes Paul would do FetchitFetchit with
kibble, except I would eat it in the air. That was fun.
I ate and I drank and every time I looked up, AlphaGrissom was there
watching me. When cleaned my bowl, I snuffled and went over to let him
know how much I liked it. I sniffed his knees and his legs and his Man
Part through his pants and he pushed me away, but not mean,
because he petted me.
“Yes, male,
just like you, Bruno. Glad we got that out of the way
without a witness—“
I wagged my tail. AlphaGrissom walked over to the living room and sat
down. I came over and very carefully, very gently he felt me all over.
When he touched one of my legs I whimpered, but he told me it was just
a cut.
I heard a key noise and looked at the door. A wuffly noise came out of
me—not a bark, just a warning. AlphaGrissom got up, but the
door opened and the Woman People came in, taking off her coat. I went
over to her and snuffled her good. She had a nice Woman part, but she
pushed me away a lot harder.
AlphaGrissom laughed. “Bruno’s very
inquisitive.”
“You could say
that. Hey buddy, I brought you something.” The Woman People
shook a crinkly bag and I sniffed it, smelling a Chewy!
She opened the bag and gave it to me. I took it and carried it back to
the rug in the living room, then settled down so I could see the door
and chew on it. OoooohGood. Licklickchewchewchew while the Alpha People
talked, I was good. I was a Good Dog, yes I was.
“Nick says he reached the vic’s ex-husband.
He’s moving out of state—apparently he won custody
of the son, but neither he nor his ex wanted the dog. She was probably
taking him to the shelter when the accident happened.”
“Ah. That compounds the tragedy then.”
“Yeah. So—you named him already?”
“Bruno. He looks like the only Bruno I’ve ever
known. What do you
think?”
The Woman People came over and squatted down. I looked up at her and my
tail wagged. She gave me the chewy, so I loved her. I heard her whisper
to me. “Are you a Bruno?”
My tail wagged harder. I liked the way she said it, the way it was full
of goodness when she did. She laughed. “Looks like a yes to
me.”
She went to sit up on the sofa with AlphaGrissom and I went back to my
chewy. After a while there were noises.
Slurpy noises.
It could have been food, so I looked up at them, and the Woman People
stopped washing AlphaGrissom’s face.
“I can’t—Grissom, I’m not doing
. . . it
. . . in front of a dog!”
“Sara—“
“No audiences.”
“You didn’t mind the crickets. Or the
tarantula.”
“That was . . . different. They didn’t have . . .
expressions.”
“Not that you could see without a magnifying glass
anyway.”
“You are so
asking to sleep alone tonight.”
“I wouldn’t be alone. I have Bruno.”
“Yeah, well that may be all you have if you
don’t consider my comfort zone here—“
“We’ll close the bedroom door—“
I heard them go off, but I was busy with my chewy, so it was okay. Then
I got lonely, so I got up and went to the door of the high-up soft
room. It was closed, but there were noises. Sort of like
Loud, but growlier and happier—woof!
Then the Woman People was so
happy she was howling. “OoohGodYeahhhhhYeahhhh--“
She sounded so happy, so I joined her. I howled and when I stopped,
there was no noise at all. Then I heard the Woman People and she was
laughing. I heard heavy feet, and the door opened. AlphaGrissom was
there, all sweaty and smelly.
He did not
look happy, so I curled up as little and small on the carpet as I could
make myself. Then he sighed. “Bruno—“
“Grissom, it’s okay,” I heard the Woman
People say. I heard her get up and come over, and she opened the door
wider.
And then AlphaGrissom said, “Sara,
honey—“ and that’s how I knew who she was.
My People: AlphaGrissom and SaraHoney.
I went in and the room was dark and smelled like them a LOT. I sniffed
the edge of the high-up soft and snorted and then I went back out to
the living room and looked for my chewy.
“I guess he wanted to be sure we weren’t being
attacked,” SaraHoney said and she giggled.
AlphaGrissom rumbled. “His timing leaves something to be
desired.”
“Not in my
case. Come on, babe--I know exactly
what I can do to you that will keep me very quiet—“
The door closed again very fast, and after a while, even though I could
hear AlphaGrissom Happy Growling, I went to sleep.
So I live with AlphaGrissom and SaraHoney now. They take me with them
to the Park and play Fetchitfetchit with me. SaraHoney feeds me in the
morning and AlphaGrissom feeds me at night. Both of them feed me under
the table. I went with them to something called VacationintheMountains,
and sometimes we go to BodyFarm.
That one has LOTS of good smells, but we do NOT play Fetchitfetchit
there at all.
And I am a Good Dog. I know it, because my People, AlphaGrissom and
SaraHoney, tell me so every day.
End