TW: brief mentions of animal abuse and human illnesses
When I was a young pup, I distinctly remember my mother. She smelled like milk and safe places, so I would burrow underneath my siblings to suckle at her breasts and all was right with the world. From the beginning, Mama prepared us for the time we’d have to leave her and go off to our “furever” homes, as she’d heard the humans say.
At night, we’d all gather around her, piled on top of each other to listen to her stories. She’d tell us of the different homes she had before being captured and taken to “the shelter”, as they called it.
Her first home was as a present to a bratty young child. She said they put a big red bow around her neck and placed her under a box. After a few scary hours, a young child ripped the box away and screamed in delight. Mama said she never received so much attention and love. Then one night, after several weeks of not quite getting the hang of house training, Mama’s family dropped her off down a deserted road.
She bore her first litter down that road, sired by another abandoned family pet, but none of them made it. Mama told us stories about many litters and families since, all as a reminder that nothing was permanent. Not people, food, shelter, or love. She wanted her pups to be resilient. To be able to survive in the face of adversity, should it ever darken our path.
The day had finally come for me, after weeks of watching my other six siblings being whisked away to their furever homes. Mama would tell us she was sad to see us go, but it was just the way things were. I sat on my new owner, Wally's, lap, sniffing his face as he signed some paperwork and answered some questions. He smelled like mint and apprehension.
I was nervous as well. So much so, I whizzed on the seat of his car while he was driving us. I remembered Mama’s stories and I was scared I’d sealed my fate before we even made it home. I cowered as far down as I could go. Wally cursed so loud, but then leaned over to scratch behind my ear. He was mad, but he wasn’t putting me out. Later, he laughed about it as he retold the story to people when they asked how I got my name. Whizard.
We loved each other very much. I had good years with Wally, until one day he didn’t come home. He wasn’t quite himself those last few months. We went on less walks. We laid more in bed. I overheard some humans say something about Cancer finally taking him. Something bad had to have happened for him not to come home to me. I needed to find him. Cancer had to give him back. Didn’t they know how much I loved Wally?
I know Mama said things weren’t permanent but I wasn’t ready to let him go. The next time the neighbor, who’d been feeding me, opened the door, I ran past them and down the street. I ran and ran, searching for Wally. I ran so hard and for so long, I didn’t recognize anything anymore.
I hopped around from place to place, holding on to the same thing that broke my heart. Nothing is permanent. I’ll spare you the details of how I survived for the next few years. Some stories are too dark to share. I was scared and alone. The same way I was now, buried in a trash can, unable to escape the bag I was thrown in.
I was hungry. More hungry than I ever remembered. Something delicious radiated from the cans. My bony figure knocked over the bins to reach the yummy food before I could even think properly.
After only a couple bites, rough hands gripped my scruff and shoved me into a bag. I was tossed in the bin and left. I tried not to panic. Thinking over and over ‘nothing is permanent.’ I couldn’t get a good grip on anything to claw my way out.
Panic threatened to set in, but then I heard footsteps. Not every human I’d encountered was bad, there were many good. It was the good ones who would help me. So, I waited for the footsteps to get closer and then I smelled it. They smelt like something sour and dangerous. I didn’t want the kind of help this person would offer. I kept quiet and quit fidgeting until long after the person came and went.
I don’t know how long I was there but it was getting harder and harder to breathe in the bag. I had to get out. With no other choice, I cried. I cried for someone to save me. I cried for the years I spent alone and scared. I cried for Wally, because with him I’d be cuddled up warm on top of a soft bed. I cried for Mama who taught me nothing is permanent, but that wasn’t quite true. One thing was permanent and I was about to find out. I cried so hard and so loud I didn’t even notice that someone had come close. They smelled like uncertainty and something sweet.
I stopped crying and tried to hunker down even lower, unsure if this new person could be trusted. Suddenly, a loud scream pierced the air as small human hands ripped open the bag, forcing fresh air up my snout. I blinked a few times trying to adjust to the bright street lights, when I saw a human girl standing close with her eyes closed tight.
She looked more afraid of me than I was of her. She still reeked of uncertainty and her scream sounded murderous, but she didn’t seem dangerous. I needed to get closer to get a good whiff of her to see if she could be trusted. I crept closer to her, sniffing her exposed hand and found it. Hiding under all the sweetness and uncertainty was the scent I’d smelled on Mama and Wally time and time again. Courage.
Someone with this much courage had to be good. I crept even closer over the bags of trash, this time using my tall frame to look closely at her face. One round eye popped open and stared into mine. Her mouth opened into another ear-piercing scream as she fell flat on to her hind. I barked to warn her to be careful, but humans usually find it hard to understand dogs when we speak.
I maneuvered the rest of my body from the heaping trash. I was nervous I would scare her again if I moved too quickly. Ever so slowly, I inched my way toward where she had fallen, wanting to make sure she wasn’t hurt. The human girl reached out her hand and began to scratch behind my ears, like Wally used to. I flinched, taken aback at the idea I could ever find someone like Wally again.
“Hey, big guy.” Her voice shook with worry. Knowing that I had finally found someone safe, I leaned into her arms and kissed her beautiful face.