When the air warmed and the leaves waved in the breeze, Olivia took us for car rides to places high up in the hills where the smells were all different. “Let’s go for a hike,” Lucas would say. I always got excited when he went to his closet and brought out a sack with straps looped onto his shoulders—there were always treats in there for me.
“Fox!” Olivia blurted on one such hike. I smelled an animal I had never before encountered, and saw it up ahead on the trail. It ran a little like a cat, low to the ground.
“See the fox, Bella? The fox!” Lucas said excitedly.
A fox was different from another animal—a coyote. We sometimes saw a few of those and I growled deep in my throat at each one. The fox looked fun to chase, but something about the coyotes made them look like small, bad dogs—dogs I instinctively hated.
“Bella wants to chase it,” Olivia remarked on one such occasion. Far up ahead of us, a lone coyote was staring at me as it stood insolently on the path. I growled.
“Right, well, even though they’re small, they’re vicious,” Lucas replied. “And there might be more than one—this one’s out in the open, trying to lure Bella into pursuit, while one or two more are hiding in the bushes.”
“I wasn’t saying you should let her do it, I was just saying she wants to.”
“You’re always telling me I should lighten up. I thought letting my dog chase wildlife might be part of the program.”
“You’re misunderstanding me. What I’m saying is that you should be a better person in general,” she responded lightly.
“I like these long hikes. Gives us time for you to list all my faults,” Lucas observed dryly. “Thank you for that.”
Frustrated, I watched the coyote slink off. Why didn’t we go deal with it?
“How’s your mom?”
I glanced up at Olivia as she mentioned Mom.
“You know, really pretty good. Except for the seizures. Her mood, though, has been really great.”
“Has she always struggled with depression?”
I stopped to smell the deliciously rotten skeleton of a bird until the leash tightened and drew me away.
“I don’t actually know. When she enlisted, I had already gone back to living with my aunt Julie. And then things got really bad when she came back from Afghanistan. You know, drugs and alcohol. Julie got court-ordered custody and Mom just sort of vanished for a couple of years. Then she was committed, got into a program, and asked if I would let her back into my life.”
“Asked you? Wow.”
“Yeah.”
“She sure is proud of you. Talks about your grades all the time, how responsible you are.”
“Well, but you’re teaching me to explore my inner risk-taker.”
Olivia laughed, a short, quick sound. “Yeah, about that,” she said after a moment. “Have you ever said it to anyone else before?” We walked steadily up a high hill, cold air sweeping down from the white-covered mountains. There was snow up there—I wondered if we were going to go roll in it.
“Said what?”
“You know what.”
He kicked a stone that skittered ahead of us like a ball. “No, you’re the first. Why, have you ever said it before to anyone?”
“No.”
“So if next time, you tell me you love me back, it would be history making.”
“You’re going to say it again?” She laughed.
“I love you, Olivia.”
“Men are always telling me that.”
“I’m serious.”
“Of course you’re serious. You’re the most serious person I’ve ever met.”
Lucas stopped and solemnly held my head in his hands. I stared up at him. “Bella, Olivia is terrified to express her emotions.”
I wagged.
Olivia knelt next to me. “Bella, Lucas feels like he has to discuss everything.”
They leaned toward each other over me and kissed. The surge of love between the two of them drew me up on my back legs, reaching up with my forepaws. They were doing love and I wanted to be part of it.
*
We were on the sidewalk, returning from the park, when two trucks pulled up near us. The door to one opened and it was the smoky-meat man, Gunter.
The other vehicle smelled amazing. Dogs and cats and other animals, some dead, had painted overlapping odors all over it. I strained on my leash to go to it for a closer examination, but Lucas held me fast.
“Animal control,” Lucas said worriedly. “Come on, Bella.”
“Hey, Lucas!” Gunter called. “Come here a minute.”
A man got out of the front seat of the other vehicle. He smelled like dogs and cats. He was heavy, and he wore a hat. “Kid! Need to talk to you about your dog,” he said.
“Go Home, Bella!” Lucas commanded, but in this variation of the game I stayed attached to the leash and when I ran, he ran with me. This was so much fun I wanted to run and run, but part of Go Home was to go to my spot and lie down. As I did so, Lucas opened the front door and pulled me inside the house.
I could feel that Mom was not home. Lucas was panting, and there was tension on his breath and on his skin. “Good dog, Bella. Good Go Home.”
I wagged.
The bell rang and I did No Barks. Lucas went to it. I could smell that it was the hat-wearing man from the wonderful truck with all the animal odors. Lucas put his eye to the door for a moment, then, sighing, he opened it. “Stay, Bella,” he commanded at the same time.
I had been about to greet the new guest but I knew Stay and promptly sat.
“Animal control,” the hat-man informed Lucas gruffly.
“I know.”
“So I understand you’ve got a pit bull living here.”
“I … we don’t know what breed she is, she was abandoned at birth. We found her in the crawl space where someone from your office says there are no animals living. There are still cats there. More than ever, in fact. You probably know that, though.”
“I’m not sure I care for your tone,” Hat-man stated softly.
“Well, I know I don’t care for your ethics,” Lucas responded.
I heard the rustle of cloth as Hat-man stiffened. “Pit bulls are not legal in Denver, anyone ever tell you that?”
“Bella is special. She’s my mom’s therapy dog. My mom is a vet; she served in Afghanistan.”
“Therapy dog, huh?”
“Would you like to see the letter from her doctor?” Lucas asked politely.
“Can you call your dog over here for a minute?”
“Why?”
“I’m not going to try to take her; I can’t enter a residence to do that.”
“Bella.” Lucas seemed reluctant, but he snapped his fingers. I went instantly to his side. I had the feeling Lucas did not like the hat-man, so I did not approach him to be petted, but remained by Lucas’s leg, catching a strong whiff of all the animals on the man’s clothes.
Hat-man gave an emphatic nod. “Yeah, that’s a pit, all right.”
“Whatever.” Lucas shrugged. “We have the letter.”
The man reached into his pocket and pulled out something. He thumbed it and with a small popping sound a delicious scent filled the air. He threw the treat down on the ground and I lunged for it instantly. Despite what Lucas might think, I found myself liking the hat-man.
“Next time, I’d appreciate it if you’d ask before you feed my dog,” Lucas said coldly.
“Point is, she’s supposed to be able to ignore a treat on the ground. She didn’t, so she doesn’t qualify as a therapy dog.”