A Dog's Way Home

  I was grateful for the food, but I knew something that the humans apparently didn’t understand: they had two dogs in their house, and neither one of us wanted to be there. I knew that at the first opportunity, I would be leaving.

  Dutch sat at the door and looked at it expectantly, clearly hoping it would open and his person would walk in. I knew, though, that life was never that easy, that instead of doors being opened for you, to get anywhere, you have to jump over fences.

  Seventeen

  The next afternoon Taylor took the rest of us on a long, long car ride. I recognized the word “home” but could tell we were not going in the right direction, that home was actually behind us.

  I could not smell Big Kitten. Had I known that investigating Dutch’s scent would mean being taken from her I would have let the opportunity to see another dog pass, no matter how tempting. I missed Big Kitten and worried for her without me to take care of her.

  “You two okay back there?” Gavin asked over his shoulder. Dutch and I were awkwardly sharing the backseat, which wasn’t really big enough to accommodate both of us. “God, Taylor, look at her. I can count every rib. How could someone do that? Dutch is obese and she’s starving.”

  “Maybe he just likes boys better. I can certainly identify with that.” Taylor laughed.

  “I’m serious. This is animal abuse.”

  Dutch and I eventually settled on a system where one of us would sit and one of us would lie down, then when that became uncomfortable we would switch places. After a long drive we arrived at a big house with hard floors and several rooms. In one of them, a yawning hole in the wall was filled with burned wood pieces that I sniffed carefully, but which Dutch ignored. There was a big backyard with a metal fence, where I found no snow and no slides, just grasses and plants. I smelled dogs and a faraway cat on the arid wind, but no other animals.

  Taylor put pillows and blankets on the floor and I understood: Dutch and I were supposed to sleep there. We were supposed to stay with Taylor and Gavin, the way I once stayed with Jose and Loretta.

  I did not know why people would not just let me find my way home.

  When we first arrived at the big house, Taylor and Gavin sat with me and played a game I did not understand.

  “Molly? Carly? Missy?” they asked me. I did not know what I was supposed to do. I wagged my tail, thinking that with all this attention there might be a treat at the end of it.

  “Daisy? Chloe? Bailey? Blanche?” Gavin asked.

  “Blanche! Oh my God!” Taylor fell back on the couch and held a pillow to his face.

  “What?” Both men were laughing.

  “Who would name a dog Blanche?” Taylor demanded.

  “My mom’s dog was named Blanche,” Gavin replied defensively.

  “Well, that explains everything.”

  “Hey!” The two men wrestled with each other. I caught Dutch’s glance and looked away. Apparently any treats for us were forgotten.

  Later, though, they were back at it. “Here’s the list of most popular dog names,” Taylor said. He was sitting at a table making clicking noises with his fingers on a toy but not accomplishing anything. Lucas and Mom would often do the same thing, and it made me long to be back home with them.

  “Is Dutch on it?” Gavin wanted to know.

  “Uh … doesn’t look like it,” Taylor replied.

  “So the guy maybe didn’t consult the list when he named his dogs,” Gavin observed. “This could be a waste of effort.”

  “These are the most popular names. That means when people think of names, they most often come up with these. They didn’t have to read from a list, necessarily. People come up with popular names at random,” Taylor said.

  “Okay, hit it.”

  “Okay.” Taylor looked down at me intently. “Number one. Lucy?”

  I stared back. Was Lucy some sort of treat?

  “Next,” Gavin said.

  “Max?”

  “Max is not a female name.”

  “What about Maxine?”

  “Oh, please.” Gavin sniffed. “That makes no sense.”

  “Says the man whose mother named a dog Blanche,” Taylor responded dryly.

  “You’re the one who likes random names.”

  “Bailey?”

  “We tried Bailey.”

  “Bella?”

  I cocked my head. It was the first time either one of them had said my name.

  “Maggie?”

  “Wait,” Gavin said. “Go back. There was something.”

  “Bella?”

  Why was he saying my name? I yawned.

  “Bella?” Gavin called.

  I turned and looked at him.

  “Yes!” He jumped up. “Wahoo! It’s Bella! Bella!”

  I couldn’t help myself, I leaped up, too, and when Gavin ran around the table yelling my name I followed him, barking. Dutch watched us from his dog bed, completely disgusted.

  The next day Taylor played with my collar, and when I moved I made a jingling sound. “Now you both have name tags,” he told us.

  From that moment on, we were Bella and Dutch, two dogs living with Gavin and Taylor, both of us anxious to get back to our real people.

  Every night when I curled up to sleep, I thought of Big Kitten. I wondered what she was doing, and if she missed me. I hoped no coyotes were hunting her. I hoped she wasn’t cold.

  I waited patiently for the opportunity to do Go Home, thinking I might see Big Kitten on the trail. I was taken for many walks, usually at night, and always on leash. I would start off sniffing politely whenever Dutch marked, but he would do it so often I eventually would concentrate on other smells. We were on one such walk, Gavin holding Dutch’s leash and Taylor holding mine, when Gavin said my name. “Bella has gained a little weight. Looks good.”

  I glanced over at him, hearing approval.

  “So how is the new editor working out?” Taylor asked.

  “I think pretty well. She likes the manuscript. But that doesn’t mean I won’t get a lot of notes,” Gavin responded.

  “I can’t believe you don’t get pissed off. I know I do whenever they want you to change things. You’re a successful author!”

  They were silent for a time. I could smell that there had recently been a squirrel in the area, and remained alert to its appearance.

  “So how long?” Gavin finally asked quietly.

  “Sorry?”

  “I’ve noticed that you always start off asking me about my books before you go on a long trip. It’s as if you’re reminding me you’re not the only one who travels.”

  Taylor sighed. “Looks like probably two weeks. The systems are less compatible than we thought. A lot of legacy code has to be rewritten. My team’s good, but they need me there.”

  “Whatever that means, I’m hearing two weeks, which usually means four.”

  “I’ll miss you,” Taylor said.

  They stopped under a tree and hugged each other. Dutch and I, confused, walked around them until our leashes drew us up nose-to-nose.

  A few days later I was introduced to the term “suitcase,” which was a box with a handle and Taylor’s clothes in it. Dutch and I sniffed it when it lay open on the floor, and I could tell he was trying to decide if he should lift his leg on it since it clearly had outdoor aromas on it. He finally decided to leave a very faint mark, a tiny squirt that neither men noticed.

  Gavin and Taylor left together and then Gavin came back alone and some of the rules changed. We were allowed to sleep on the bed! I slept next to Gavin. Dutch would climb on the bed if Gavin insisted, but it made him restless and he always jumped down during the night.

  Dutch was sad. He spent a lot of time with his nose to the crack under the door, sniffing and sighing. He did not want to play with me much. Sometimes Gavin would get on the floor with Dutch and put his arms around him. “Are you okay, big guy? You going to be okay?” Gavin would ask softly. When he did this I could feel the knot of pain inside Dutch loosen its hold a li
ttle. Gavin was giving Dutch comfort.

  He also gave us toys—toys that squeaked and soft toys and bone toys and balls. Everything, from the chicken treats Gavin handed us to the soft toys Dutch and I ripped apart, reminded me of Lucas. Gavin was a kind man, but he wasn’t my person.

  Then Taylor came home, and he brought treats! “Wow, Bella, you’ve really gained weight!” he said happily as he gave me a chewy piece of meat. “You look great. Dutch, you’re still a little … rotund.”

  “I can’t give Bella food and not Dutch. It wouldn’t be fair,” Gavin said defensively.

  With the two men back together we went on more walks. “You know what, I think we should go up to the cabin one last time before we head to China,” Taylor said on one walk.

  “Still snowy up there. I really prefer the summer,” Gavin replied.

  “You’ll get the hang of cross-country skiing, you just need practice.”

  “I don’t want to get the hang of it.”

  “What’s eating you?” Taylor asked.

  “When were you going to tell me you’ve been in contact with mountain rescue about their owner? There was a message on our voice mail.”

  The two men were quiet. Dutch and I both looked in the direction of a barking dog, off in the distance. Dutch responded by lifting his leg on a post.

  “Did they leave the name?” Taylor finally asked.

  “No, just said she understood you wanted his contact information and she needs to know why. And I, Taylor, also would like to know why.”

  “Because they aren’t our dogs! We have to give them back.”

  “If he wanted them back, wouldn’t he have called by now?” Gavin demanded.

  “I don’t know why he hasn’t called. That’s what I want to ask him. You’re in denial about this whole thing. We can’t keep the dogs.”

  Gavin turned abruptly and Dutch trotted to keep up, looking back in confusion at Taylor and me. We were stopped. I sat, unsure what was going on. “Gavin!” Taylor called.

  Gavin kept walking.

  * * *

  Not long after that the men put things in the car and drove to the “cabin.” I knew instantly where we were—the same small place where we were taken for our first meal after we dug the man out of the snow. When we arrived Dutch was so excited he was quivering, but after racing around in the yard, he abruptly stopped running. He marked a few places, of course, but he did so without much enthusiasm. He knew his person was not here.

  Here at the cabin we were much closer to Lucas; I could feel it. I sniffed around the fence, looking for a slide, but there was none, and the fence itself was too high for me to jump.

  The first night we spent at the cabin, Dutch and I were let out in the backyard to Do Your Business right before the men went to bed. Dutch lifted his leg several times, but after I squatted once I went to the corner of the fence and lifted my nose, excited by a familiar scent.

  Big Kitten was nearby.

  I waited expectantly, but she came no closer. Eventually I remembered how Mother Cat always approached Lucas, but never allowed herself to be touched. I realized she would not be coming to see me, not with humans so close. Even a cat as enormous as Big Kitten could be frightened of people; it was just how some cats were.

  We were back at the house when something happened that caused Gavin’s anxiety to rise sharply—Dutch and I both felt it. Dutch went to Gavin, concerned, and Gavin stroked his ears. “It’s okay, Dutch,” he murmured softly. “Taylor’s talking to your owner.”

  Taylor was holding the phone. When he finished, he came out and handed Gavin a glass of sharp-smelling liquid. “So?” Gavin asked.

  “Kurch couldn’t come to the phone. I talked to his sister,” Taylor replied.

  “Wait. Kurch?”

  “I guess that’s his name.”

  “Rhymes with church?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is that how he spells it?” Gavin demanded. “C-H-U-R-C-H?”

  “Okay, I can feel your English major rage rising but it’s not my fault, that’s his name. And no, he spells it with a K.”

  “Kurch.”

  “I know, Gavin.”

  “I can’t believe we’re going to give our dogs to a guy named Kurch.”

  “Our dogs? But yeah, it’s got to be the stupidest name in history.”

  “So what did Kurch’s sister say? Oh, and what’s her name, Muck? Corpuscle?”

  “No, you ready? Susan.”

  “They named their son Kurch and the girl Susan?”

  “The guy is pretty banged up, still,” Taylor continued. “I guess he broke about every bone in his body. So he’s on painkillers. She was surprised to hear why I was calling. She didn’t even know he had dogs.”

  “Close family.”

  “I do get the sense she sees Kurch as less of a blessing than a burden.”

  “Maybe he spells it K-I-R-S-C-H,” Gavin observed hopefully.

  “No, she spelled it for me when I expressed my … doubts.”

  “Maybe she can’t spell.”

  “I would believe that,” Taylor replied agreeably.

  “So when are we taking them?”

  “I told her we’d drop them by next week.”

  “I’m going to miss them, Taylor. This is going to be the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”

  “I know. But they are not our dogs.”

  “Maybe he’d sell them to us.”

  “Now that is a particularly bad idea,” Taylor said gently. “What would we do with them when we go to China?”

  Dutch let out the sort of groan only a very bored dog can make. It reminded me of how tired I was, and I curled up on my own dog bed.

  “We could find a place to board them,” Gavin declared.

  “For six months? You would really do that to them?”

  “No, you’re right. I just … Dutch is finally starting to accept us, I can tell. You should see how he missed you when you were traveling.”

  “You didn’t let the dog on the bed though, right?” Taylor asked.

  “Of course not. I let the other dog on the bed.” Gavin sighed. “Well, okay. I guess it’s the only way. Next Tuesday?”

  “Tuesday. Yes.”

  “Tuesday, Bella,” Gavin said in a tone somehow both happy sounding and weighted with sadness, “we’re taking you back to your owner!”

  Eighteen

  Something was different. There was a change in the rules.

  Taylor did not want dogs on the couch. Gavin liked it. We had learned that when Gavin was home alone we were welcome to lie on the cushions but when Taylor was there he would clap his hands and yell “Off!” I knew this meant to jump down immediately, but Dutch always seemed to believe Taylor didn’t really mean it and would lie there until Taylor pulled him onto the floor. Then Dutch would wander over to where I was already lying on the dog bed, mournfully sniffing me before deciding where to collapse with an exaggerated groan.

  If we were on the couch when Taylor came home from wherever he had been, I always gave a guilty start, but could never seem to summon the energy to jump down until he commanded us to Off.

  But then it was different. Taylor and Gavin were sitting together on the couch and Taylor called to Dutch, patting the cushion next to him. Not seeming to grasp that this was a colossal reversal in policy, Dutch padded over and jumped up without hesitation, lying down and putting his head in Gavin’s lap.

  “Come on, Bella. You, too,” Gavin said. “Come! Bella, come!”

  Really?

  I managed to curl up on the couch next to Taylor, though the space was tight. I wondered what we were all doing now.

  Both men were sad; I could feel it in the way they stroked my fur.

  “This is going to be the hardest thing I’ve ever done,” Gavin murmured with a sigh.

  “We knew it was temporary.”

  “I guess I didn’t really allow myself to admit it.”

  “They miss their master,” Taylor said gently. “You can tel
l. Especially Dutch. They just want to be with Kurch.”

  Dutch’s eyes flickered at this statement, as if he understood something about it that I didn’t, which was impossible.

  “I know,” Gavin said.

  “I can put off my trip for a couple days.”

  “That’s sweet but I know you need to get to Seattle. I’ll be fine.”

  “Going to be strange, coming home and not being greeted by a pair of giant dogs,” Taylor observed.

  “It’s almost as if part of me is dying. I’m glad we’re going to China soon, different environment, I won’t miss them as badly.”

  Something else completely different: that night, Taylor called for us to get on the bed with the two of them. We tried to sleep, but we were too hot and jumped down shortly after being invited up.

  People are difficult to comprehend: they make rules and then change them. I was happy we would be able to sleep on the couch now, but wished it didn’t make Gavin and Taylor so sad when we did so.

  Taylor left the next morning with his suitcase. Gavin fed us a breakfast with bacon in it! Then he took us for a long, long walk on leashes. Dutch marked everywhere and Gavin waited without any impatience. It was the most leisurely stroll we had ever been on together.

  Gavin was so sad, I thought he should lie down so I could cuddle next to him and do my job and provide comfort. Instead, he first went to Dutch on the couch and me in my dog bed, giving us both long, tight hugs. “I will miss you so, so much,” he whispered to me. I wagged and licked his face, which was wet and salty. I did not understand what all these changes in people behavior meant, and had the uneasy feeling something bad was about to happen.

  “Okay, guys. Time to go.” Gavin sighed.

  Car ride! Dutch sat up front and I was in the back. Gavin made room for us at the top of the windows to stick our noses out into the wind, and Dutch and I took turns sneezing. Gavin kept stroking Dutch’s fur with one hand.