We only walked on nice days. I remembered being with Lucas on similar days, when flowers released their fragrances and small animals darted into the ground or up trees at my approach. Surely he would come get me now!
“I’m going to put down new wood chips in the play area,” Jose told Loretta and me after the walk. “Those are getting rotten. Summer’s coming, the grandkids will want to play.”
“Good idea. Thank you, Jose.”
Loretta left us in the backyard and returned to the house. “Let’s freshen this place up, Bella,” Jose declared. “Do you know your master is coming to get you tomorrow? I’ll miss you, you’ve been good company.”
I yawned, scratching myself behind the ear and contemplating a nap.
Jose pulled something out of the garage that had wheels on it. Grunting a little, he moved the swing and the slide and all of the other structures from atop the wood chips to a spot next to the fence. “Whew! Enough for today,” he told me. “Come in, Bella.”
I lay on the soft pillow in front of the fireplace and closed my eyes. I thought of Lucas. I thought of Olivia. I thought of Go to Work and Go Home.
Go Home.
I was a good dog, but Lucas had not come to get me. Maybe he wasn’t going to come.
Maybe I needed to do Go Home.
*
That night Jose let me out in the backyard by myself to do Do Your Business. I could smell so many things, but I could not smell Lucas. But I knew where he was, I could feel him like a pull on the leash. That sense of him was much more faint than when he was coming up the sidewalk at the end of the day, but I knew what direction to go. To Go Home.
I could not climb the fence. It was too high to jump over. But I needed to leave the yard. Jose and Loretta took me for walks, but always on a leash.
If Lucas were there he would throw a ball for me and it would bounce up the slide and I would chase it. The slide was up against the fence. I pictured Lucas throwing the ball and it going up the ramp and over the wooden fence. I would chase it and when I caught it I would be on the other side.
I did not need a ball. I ran across the yard and up the slide and sailed over the top of the fence and landed lightly on some soft dirt.
I would now do Go Home to Lucas.
I left the houses and the dogs behind me and went toward the trees and the smell of rocks and dirt and water. I felt strong and good and alive with a purpose.
I did not sleep that night, nor in the day, either. I found a trail that smelled of many people, but when I heard anyone approaching me I turned away and trotted a good distance from the path until they had passed. There was a stream nearby that I drank from several times.
I began to feel hungry, hungry in a way that was not familiar to me. My stomach was empty and ached a little. I remembered Lucas feeding me Tiny Piece of Cheese, and my mouth became wet. I licked my lips, thinking about it.
When the day began cooling and turning dark, I was exhausted and knew I needed to sleep. I dug a hollow by a rock, thinking as I did so of Mother Cat’s other den, the one under the deck.
It was then I realized I had left behind something very important, very dear: my Lucas blanket.
I curled up cold and sad and alone.
*
A shocking scream jolted me awake not long after I had closed my eyes. I jumped to my feet. Whatever had made the noise was close by.
I froze when the noise fractured the silence again. What had seemed a human voice the first time was too raw and feral, but what kind of animal would make that sort of call? When it split the air yet again, I could hear no pain, no fear, but nonetheless it frightened me. I hesitated, wondering what to do. Run? Investigate?
The next time I heard it it was harsh and loud, like a dog issuing a single bark, pausing, then barking again—though this was no dog. I wanted to find out what was doing this, shattering the gloom with the piercing sound, so I padded off to find out.
I slowed as my ears told me I was close, though the breeze was flowing away from me and I couldn’t smell what I was approaching.
Then I saw it: a large fox, sitting on a boulder. Its mouth yawned open, its chest contracted, and a shrieking call filled the night. Moments later, it did it again. Then the fox whirled and stared at me.
I felt the fur rise on the back of my neck. I knew what a fox was from doing Go for a Hike with Lucas and Olivia. They were a little like squirrels—animals that ran low to the ground. Something about it, though, made me not want to chase it. We regarded each other, dog and feral animal, and I inhaled its wildness. What did it think of me, larger, a good dog with a collar who lived with people?
It leaped silently to the ground and dashed off into the trees. Watching it go, I thought about the first time I saw a fox, how confident I had been, ready to chase it if Lucas wanted. But today everything was different. Without people with me, I was in the fox’s world now, not the other way around. I suddenly felt very vulnerable.
What other creatures were waiting out there in the darkening forest?
The next morning I was anxious, hungry, and a little afraid. I knew I was being a good dog to do Go Home but the path I was taking did not go directly toward where I sensed Lucas would be. If I went off the path, sometimes the footing was rocky, and sometimes it was covered with plants, making for difficult travel. It just seemed easier to stay on the trail.
After a time, the trail descended, and the people smell became stronger. I knew I should run away, but I was drawn forward by the feeling that I would soon be with humans. I remembered a similar sensation when the cats were scared and there were men and women in the den, this desire to go to them and be with them. Maybe the people would recognize me the way Ty and others always did, and they would take me to Lucas.
I heard the voices of two boys. I hesitated only a moment before I went in that direction.
*
I smelled the boys, the wind in my face, long before I saw them. As I trotted toward them, I heard a sudden, loud cracking bang. It sounded a little like a door slamming—but in most ways it was a noise I had never heard before. A whiff of caustic smoke reached my nose.
“Nice shot!” I heard one of the boys call.
The noise frightened me, but the pull of seeing humans was just too much to keep me away. I came over the top of a small rise and saw them standing side by side, not looking in my direction. One of them held something long, a pipe of some kind, and it was from this that the acrid odors rose. The other boy wore a sack on his back similar to the one Lucas took when we went to do Go for a Hike. They were facing some bottles on a fallen tree, and from these I could smell the faint remnants of what Jose liked to drink while he slipped me treats. My mouth watered at the thought.
With a small cloud of harsh smoke and a repeat of the loud noise, one of the bottles shattered.
“Dude!” cheered the sack-wearing boy, the one not holding the pipe. Then he glanced up and saw me. I wagged my tail. “Hey! A dog!”
The other boy turned to look. “Whoa,” he said. He raised the pipe to his shoulder, and pointed it at me.