“I never would really have done that.”
The boys got out of the car. “We’ll be back, I promise,” Warren told me.
I watched through the front window as the boys approached a big building, opened a door, and went inside. I remembered the glass doors of the place with the crates of barking dogs; these were similar.
I now understood something. Many people were very nice, but that didn’t mean they would take me to Lucas. In fact, some of them might take me away from Lucas. They might feed me and go for a car ride, but I needed to Go Home.
I stuck my head out the window, and then my front paws, dangling them toward the ground. I wriggled my rear end, pushing forward, until my back paws were scrabbling in the air and I was falling nose-first toward the pavement. I was out of the car and off leash. I shook myself off, lifted my nose, and trotted away toward the smell of food.
* * *
There were automobiles and people and buildings, so I knew I was in a town, but it was a different one from where Jose and Loretta took me. As I followed my nose some people shouted to me from car windows and open doorways—they seemed friendly, but I did not believe they would take me to Lucas so I did not approach them. I did, however, smell something sweet and sticky on the sidewalk and I ate it quickly, crunching on some dry bread lying next to it. What a nice place, to leave such treats out for a deserving dog.
My empty stomach kept me focused on finding a meal despite my need to Go Home. I tracked aromas, hoping I would stumble upon more sidewalk treats.
I caught whiffs of many dogs, usually separated from one another, and I heard barking and saw a dog on a chain, but then I changed course because I sensed several canines moving together. I made my way toward them, and when I rounded a corner, I came upon a pack.
There were two males, both very dark in color, one large and one small, plus a short female with long fur. They were sitting behind a store from which poured a delicious bouquet, staring at it intently, but when they felt my approach they whipped their heads around.
Small Male ran straight at me, then pulled up, raising his snout as he stopped. I turned and we sniffed each other. Big Male also examined behind my tail. I moved rigidly, not prepared to play bow with two males on either side of me, but wagging a friendly greeting. Big Male lifted his leg on a post and Small Male followed suit and I politely appraised their marks, noticing that the female had not moved from the back door of that store.
Small Male play bowed and we wrestled for a moment while Big Male continued to mark, and then Big Male trotted over to us and we stopped playing because his presence changed the situation.
When the back door opened, a cloud of cooking meat poured out and I saw a woman standing on the threshold. “Hello, pretty dogs!” she sang.
The males ran over to the woman’s feet to sit, so I followed suit, though I held back a little, careful not to crowd the other dogs. I was unsure what was about to happen. I could sense the female canine tensing at my presence but her eyes were focused on the woman, who had a wonderfully greasy paper in her hands. The paper rustled and gave off succulent aromas as she reached in with her fingers and plucked out fatty pieces of cooked beef. Starting with the female, she went down the row of dogs, handing each of us a large chunk. All of us were licking our lips in anticipation, scarcely able to contain our excitement. “Are you a new friend? What’s your name?” she asked as she extended me a delectable slice. I daintily lifted the treat from her fingers, chewing quickly so none of the other dogs would try to take it away from me.
“That’s all I have tonight, lovies. Be good dogs!”
The woman shut the door. We all sniffed the ground to see if any of us had dribbled any morsels. Female came up and investigated me suspiciously, and Small Male bowed, wagging. We milled around for a moment, appreciating the meat scents on each other’s lips, and then the pack moved on. I was part of it, so I followed. It was good to be with other dogs.
We were walking down a narrow street behind the buildings. There were no cars, though there were several large metal containers that clearly contained scraps of edible things I would have liked to explore, but the pack didn’t pause other than when the males lifted their legs to mark.
We eventually stopped at a square plastic bin from which rose a riot of enticing odors. Big Male was able to knock the lid off of it, and I inhaled deeply, hungrily aware of cheese and grease and sweets.
Female then astounded me by leaping nimbly off the ground, her rear paws scrabbling on the sides of the barrel while her snout dug inside. She fell back, pulling a box with her from which spilled meats wrapped in bread. Each dog pulled out a meal, darting away from the pack to quickly finish it off. Mine was wrapped in plastic but when I tore into it there was food coated with a tangy, bitter sauce that made me sneeze.
Several times Female dove for more paper. Sometimes what she dragged out had no value—little pieces of vegetables, or more of the tangy sauce—but a few times there was more to eat. I was the youngest so I shied back, not thrusting my head forward when the two males dove on what Female had extracted, but waiting until she had dropped down and taken her share as well. That was the rule of this pack.
And then on some unknown signal, the two males trotted away. Female was licking some paper and the way she eyed me let me know that if I approached she would snap at me, so I gave her plenty of room as I followed her companions.
We made our way to another door with fantastic fragrances. Though it was shut, it was made of a metal substance through which I could see people moving around inside the building. In a way, it reminded me of the thin blankets Lucas utilized to catch the cats in the den—the material shrouded but did not block the light from inside.
I kept my distance from Female. Small Male and I wrestled while Big Male marked and then there was a noise from within the building and all of us ran expectantly to the door and sat. I was next to Big Male, and he licked his lips, so I did, too.
The door opened. “Well, hello there, are you here for a handout?” a man called. Unlike the woman, he did not hand us treats, but tossed things at us, one canine at a time. The piece of wonderful, salty meat that he pitched at me bounced off my nose, but I jumped on it and gobbled it before any of the other dogs could react. Bacon! We each had our chance at several more treats, and though I tried to snatch them out of the air like my companions, I dropped every one.
The man shut the door, though we could still hear and see him through it. “That’s all I have for tonight. Go on home, now. Go Home.”
I stared in amazement. How did he know about Go Home?
The pack trotted away and I followed, though I still carried the man’s voice in my head. I was very far from Lucas, but I had just been commanded Go Home.
We went up a street with houses. Lights beamed through the windows, and I smelled food and people and some dogs and some cats.
Female left us. One moment she was with the pack, and the next she simply turned away and trotted up a walkway toward a front porch. I stopped and watched her, but when the males didn’t wait, I hurried to catch up.
And then Big Male separated from us. Small Male marked a tree while Big Male went directly to a metal door. I heard a loud rasp as he dragged his nails across the door’s surface. After a moment, a small boy opened it, allowing a brief flash of light out into the street before Big Male went inside and the door was shut.
Small Male sniffed me, and when he turned toward a house, looking back and wagging, I knew he wanted me to follow.
But I understood something now. The pack was doing what the man said, they were doing Go Home. They each had a house to go to, with people inside who would love them. They were a temporary pack, the way such groups sometimes formed among the canines at the dog park. When each human called out a name, a dog left the park, and if Lucas and I stayed there long enough the pack would dwindle until it was just me. One dog does not make a pack.
Small Male wanted to keep me in his family, but I could not go
with Small Male because my person was not here. My person was Lucas.
I had learned some things I had not known. Where there were buildings there were nice people who handed out treats and there were barrels and bins full of food that was easily hunted. A town had food.
But I could not do Go Home and stay in this town.
I turned my nose toward the direction I knew would lead me to Lucas. That way there was no town, there were no buildings. There were hills and streams and trees, and I could smell the sharp tang of snow up there as well. If I wanted to do Go Home, I would have to be without a pack, in high hills where there were no people.
Small Male was halfway up the yard to a house, watching. Part of me yearned to join him—he had the smell of more than one human hand on his fur, and it would be so nice to sleep on a soft bed and be fed and petted by Small Male’s people.
I felt safe here, in this place with cars and humans who hand-fed good dogs. My few days on the trail led me to believe there were perils up there I did not know, animals I had never seen, and areas where I might not find food. Here, with Small Male, I would be taken care of. There, on my own, I would face danger.
I could not be with my person and also Small Male. I turned away from him, took a deep whiff of the night air, and went to find my Lucas.
Thirteen
I felt uneasy as the lights and smells of the town faded behind me. The moon lit the way, but I felt vulnerable on my own, as if having been in a pack reminded me how much safer a dog is traveling in the company of others. I also now understood I was on a journey of many days—when I used the slide to jump over the fence, I was propelled by a belief that I would very soon be home. Now, though, I knew that I might walk and walk and the scent of my hometown would still be far away.
I spent the night by the river, in a place where a scooped-out area in the ground was shaped like a dog bed. Several times I awoke at the sound or smell of small animals, but they did not approach me and none of them were familiar to my nose.
The path I was on did not always take me in the direction I needed to go, but often it would eventually twist back, and if I stayed with it I would make progress toward my goal. The surer footing made for much swifter passage than when I took a more direct course and attempted to climb over the rocks and the other obstacles that blocked my way. The scent of people and animals was painted into the path, so I could easily find it.
People on the path announced their approach with their talking and loud footfalls, so I always knew when to veer away and let them pass. I did not want to take another car ride.
As darkness closed in I found a flat area heavily imbued with human scents. A few wooden tables were scattered about, and near a few of them were metal poles atop which were buckets of ash and the tantalizing promise of burned meat, though when I stood on my back legs to investigate I was only able to lick a trace of food from the bars atop the ashes.
Much more promising was a round barrel similar to the one Female had climbed into, though this one was metal. I attempted to duplicate her feat, but where she was able to climb in by leaping up, hooking her front paws on the lip, and then scrabbling with her rear legs, my own leap and grab only succeeded in pulling the entire thing over. Guiltily, I remembered Lucas telling me bad dog when I did something similar at home in the kitchen, but that did not stop me from locating chicken pieces and a thick piece of sugary treat and some dry biscuits that were not very good. The chicken crunched as I chewed through the bones and I licked delicious juices from the plastic container I pulled from the barrel. I was as full as I had been in several days, and contentedly curled up under the table for the night. Having a satisfied tummy made me feel safe.
The next day the trail took me steeply uphill, and I was tired. Before long I realized I was already hungry again. I regretted ever disliking Good Exercise, the game where Mom or Lucas would toss dog snacks down the stairs for me to run after them, gobble them up, and then climb back to the kitchen. Now I would happily play that game all day, if they wanted.
When I heard a flat, loud noise I instantly turned in the direction from which it came and ran toward it. I knew what that boom meant—Dude and Warren were using their pipe. Though I would not get in their car, I would gladly accept more meaty morsels.
Soon I heard voices. They were men and they sounded excited. “She’s got to weigh a hundred fifty pounds!” someone shouted.
I emerged cautiously from the trees. Up ahead there was a ridge. I now could smell the humans and they were not Dude and Warren. I padded up to the ridge and looked down.
I was on a small hill, and down the slope below me a stream trickled through the rocks. Across a narrow canyon was a far taller hill, sparsely covered with thin plants. I glanced up and saw two men stumbling and running down the higher hill. They were on steep terrain and did not look over, or they would easily see me. Both of them carried pipes, and the air was filled with the stink I associated with the loud bang these pipes could make.
“Told you we’d get something today!” one of them gasped at the other.
Panting and tripping, the men were hurrying down toward the small stream. I crept along the ridge, curious, watching the men’s progress, and that’s when a delicate shift in the wind brought me the strong smell of an animal and something else.
Blood.
I turned toward the blood scent, the men forgotten. “At least five hundred dollars!” one of them said, but I was tracking with my nose. I did not have far to go—just a few steps and I saw a creature lying motionless in the rocks. I cautiously approached, though the stillness in its body told me it was not living. It was like the squirrel Lucas showed me by the side of the road on one of our walks—warm and limp and dead.
I sniffed at the blood on its chest. This animal smelled similar to a cat, though it wasn’t like any cat I had ever seen—it was enormous, larger than I was. It was a female, and a milky odor from her teats reminded me of Mother Cat. Infused into her blood was a stark, smoky stench, the kind that came from the pipes that men like Dude and the two on the hill carried.
I did not understand what I was seeing.
Behind me, I could hear the men breathing loudly. The change in sound told me they had reached the bottom of the canyon and were now coming up the near side.
“I need a break!” one of them panted to the other.
“We got to grab it and get the hell out of here,” the other said tensely, but I could hear that they had stopped climbing.
“No one around. We’re fine.”
“Dammit, we’re not fine. You know what happens we get caught poaching a cougar?”
“I know we might get as much as a grand for her, that’s what I know.”
I decided I did not want to meet the men and felt sure they would not give me any treats if I did.
Then a movement from the bushes caught my eye and I turned my head. There was something there, an animal, but the wind was blowing the wrong way for me to smell it. I stared, seeing eyes, pointed ears. Then, though it was nearly hidden, I recognized what I was looking at: an immense cat, bigger than many dogs, the largest I had ever seen. It eyes were locked on mine, and when it realized I saw it, it ducked its head a little, as if to hide. But now that I knew it was there, I could separate its smell from the huge animal lying motionless in the rocks. A female.
The way she held herself reminded me of the cats in the den when there were humans coming in through the hole: the same rigid body, the same wide-eyed stare, lips drawn back slightly. She was terrified.
There was a loud shout from one of the men: “Dammit!” and she cringed and backed into the bushes and darted away. I recognized the motion, the skittering way she ran, and realized that despite her size she wasn’t a cat, she was a kitten, a kitten as big as a medium-sized dog.
She only retreated a little way before halting. I did not know what had happened, but I could tell by her tense movements that she wanted to flee. Yet she didn’t—was it because of the dead feline at my feet
? Was that her mother?
The sounds and smells told me that the men with pipes were nearly at the top of the ridge, so I, too, needed to go. I turned away and padded stealthily into the brush.
The big kitten followed.
* * *
The route I took roughly tracked the comingled scents of Big Kitten and the huge dead mother cat, retracing their steps. The going was not easy, but the trail went in a fairly straight line away from the angry men. I could smell them and the blood now, the breeze cooler under my tail than on my nose.
I was disturbed by what I had just witnessed. I did not understand the connection between the death of Big Kitten’s mother and the humans with the stinking pipes, but I did believe there was one. I was reminded of the time Mom invited a friend inside the house and then he became furious and she hit him and he fell down. The scary conclusion was that there were bad people in the world. I knew there were those who would prevent me from being with Lucas, but this was something else entirely.
If a dog couldn’t trust humans, how was life even possible?
Big Kitten was silent behind me; I could smell her, smell the terror and the anxious despair. When I stopped to look at her, she moved swiftly to hide, her bouncy gait exactly like any normal-sized kitten.
After some time, I felt Big Kitten halt. I turned and looked at her. She was sitting down, regarding me with light-colored eyes. Though we were now far away from the angry men, I wanted to keep going, keep making progress toward Lucas. When I took a few steps and looked over my shoulder, she trotted a little bit in a slightly different direction, then stopped. She looked toward where she seemed to want to go, then turned to me with what felt like expectation.
Big Kitten was an afraid kitty. She needed my help. When I was in danger, Mother Cat protected me, and now I felt a powerful pull to protect this kitten.
She seemed to sense that I would follow her, so she moved off. I went after her, startled by how nimbly she could pick her way through rocks and other barriers.