A Dog's Way Home

I was not hungry, but knew I would be soon. I slept under a bench in a park that smelled like children and dogs. In the morning I drank from a cold, clear river, avoiding the men and women I heard speaking to each other. I craved their company, but had no way of knowing which ones would keep me from returning to Lucas.

Behind some buildings I found a bin so overstuffed that the lid was propped open. I jumped up, trying to get inside, but was not able to get a purchase on the lip of the bin with my fore claws. I remembered trying to clamber out of Sylvia’s pool—there are some things I simply could not do. Instead, when I leaped up, I thrust my snout into the bin and grabbed what I could, which turned out to be a sack with nothing edible in it. I tried again, this time snagging a plastic bag with my teeth. It fell to the ground and I ripped into it. I found a box with bird pieces and bones in it, not chicken but similar, and also a foil wrapping with spicy meat and flat bread.

There were many people walking the streets where the cars were, but very few in the narrow roads behind the buildings. The two humans I saw did not call to me.

One building pulled me irresistibly forward—I smelled dog bones and dog treats and dog food in it. My mouth watering, I saw that its back door was open. I wondered if going inside would mean that I would be chased by a man in white clothes. A very tall truck was backed up right outside the open door, and when I cautiously explored it, I saw that the truck was open like a garage in the rear. By climbing the steps to the back door of the shop, I was on a cement pad at the same level as the deck of the open truck. I nimbly leaped across the gap between the cement and the wooden floor of the vehicle, lured by delicious odors. The enclosure was mostly empty except up toward the front end, where I encountered plastic that did nothing to contain the delicious odors from underneath it. I tore off the plastic and uncovered bags and bags of dog food.

I ripped into the paper sack and began to feed. I did not feel like a bad dog; I was supposed to eat dog food!

Then a man came out of the back of the store. I froze, feeling guilty, but he didn’t even look at me. He reached to the top of the truck and yanked on a strap and with a bang the back end of the truck was closed off. I went over to the door, sniffing, smelling the man and dog food and little else.

The vehicle rattled to life with a roar and, swaying and bouncing, I felt it begin to move. I had to dig my nails into the wooden floor when the room swayed in one direction, and then the roar of the truck grew louder.

I was trapped.

*

The truck rocked and bounced and growled for a long time, so long that I fell asleep despite the strange, car-ride feeling pulling at my body. The smells from outside kept changing subtly, but were mostly the same—water, trees, the occasional animal, people, dogs, smoke, food.

Finally the steady drone of the truck took on a different character, becoming louder. The forces pulling on me became more pronounced and I slid sideways before I leapt to my feet. I felt a shift to one side, then another, and then I fell forward, and then the vehicle shut off, the sudden silence strange after such a long period of vibration. I heard a door shut and the sound of a man walking. I shook myself off and trotted back to where I had first gotten on the truck.

With a loud rattling sound, the wall in front of me slid up. “Hey!” the man yelled as I jumped down to the ground.

He did not seem friendly, so I did not approach him. Instead I ran, going up a street and turning toward some bushes, where I gratefully squatted. The man did not chase me.

I assessed where I was. The place seemed very much the same as where I had spent the night, though I could smell it was a different town. There were buildings and some cars and many people walking around. The sun was setting, but the air was fairly warm. I smelled a large amount of water, clean snow high in the mountains, squirrels and cats and dogs.

And home. Somehow, during the course of being in the back of that truck, I had become so close to home that the smell of it was separating into distinct parts. It was the reverse of what happened when Audrey drove me away from Lucas. I faced the tall mountains, which were glowing as the sun set. Just on the other side of them was my person.

Though my belly was heavy from all the dog food, I was painfully thirsty and turned toward where my senses told me I would find a river. I drank from a swiftly moving stream, and then was drawn to the sound of children. It was a park with slides and swings and two small dogs who ran up to me, barking aggressively and then turning away submissively, politely sniffing under my tail. They were both females, one of whom wanted to play, pawing and bowing, and the other who dismissed me and went back to where her people were sitting on a blanket on the ground.

Though I was anxious to get back on the trail, night was coming and I should find somewhere to curl up. This park would be a good, safe place to sleep.

And then I would do Go Home.

*

The sky was barely brightening when I awoke the next morning. It was the time of day when Big Kitten would return from her prowlings, sometimes with food for us. I felt a small pang, missing her, but I was eager to get going. I skirted a lake and then climbed a high hill, tracking next to a big road with many vehicles booming up and down it. On the other side of the hill I found a river that was flowing exactly in the direction I needed to go, toward Lucas. A road wove in and out near the stream, sometimes close, sometimes not close, but nearly always where I could hear the cars.

Padding alongside the rushing waters, I came across a big bird eating a large fish on a rock. I chased the bird, who flapped hard, dragging that fish, and then finally dropped it and rose high and away. I jumped on the fish and ate it quickly.

The stream descended into a town where I found some sweet breads in a trash can and a flat piece of cheesy meat in a box. I slept behind a car in that town and was moving again just as the sun was coming up. I was so excited to see Lucas, to finally Go Home, that I found myself running along flat areas.

I curled up in a park in a different town the next night. I had nothing to eat but I had been much hungrier in my life, and slept without trouble.

My dreams were vivid and strange. I felt Axel’s hand rub my fur, and Big Kitten’s tongue on my neck where the coyote had bitten me. Heat flowed from Gavin and Taylor, pressed up against my side in their bed. I smelled Sylvia’s breath, and heard Chloe calling her kittens. Dutch groaned in my ear, a content sound he often made as he snuggled up to Gavin. I tasted Jose’s salty treats and felt Loretta arrange my Lucas blanket around me.

W. Bruce Cameron's books