A Dog's Way Home

by W. Bruce Cameron

  For me, trips to the backyard gave me an opportunity to explore with my nose what I had learned as Audrey drove me to be with Loretta and Jose: that there were concentrations of homes and dogs and cars in the air that could easily be separated from each other, and that one of these was very distinctly the smell of home. When Jose took car rides to “town” we drove straight for one of these clusters of aromas, and that’s how I came to think of those places: towns. The whole entire land was populated with towns, and one of them was my home, my hometown.

  All of these things I experienced knowing that I did not live here with Jose and Loretta. I lived with Lucas and Mom, and my purpose was to do Go to Work and see all the people who loved me and provide comfort to those with pains and fears. Every morning I sniffed the outside air as soon as I was let out, hoping to pick up Lucas coming to fetch me the way he had found me at the building full of crates and barking dogs.

  “I thought Bella was just staying with us a few days until her owner came to get her,” Jose said one day. I had been asleep, but of course I lifted my head at the sound of my name. I eased to my feet and then did Sit like a good dog who deserved treats. “It’s been two weeks.”

  “I know.” Loretta shrugged. “Next weekend they’re coming.”

  “Okay.” Jose did not give me any salty treats then, but when Loretta went into the kitchen he snuck me a couple. Jose and I had an understanding. Sometimes, though, Loretta would catch us and say, “Don’t do that!” I would slink away, but it seemed most of her unhappiness was directed at Jose. There were times it was better to be a dog.

  In the backyard there was a fence and beyond it, trees and grasses. When the wind blew from one direction I smelled people and dogs and food and cars: a town. When the breeze shifted I detected plants and trees and water—like a park, but with a much more expansive breadth. Sometimes Jose and Loretta would take me for short walks on a path behind their fence and there were no other houses, though we often met people and dogs. They called our walks “hiking the trail.”

  “I love living right up against the state forest. Isn’t it fantastic, Bella?” Loretta sometimes asked when we were doing Hike the Trail. I could sense that she was very happy, but she kept me on leash, so whatever was going on it wasn’t that wonderful.

  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.

  Twelve

  The sack-wearing boy pushed on the pipe, forcing it up and away. “Hey! What are you doing?” he asked sharply.

  The boy with the pipe pointed it at the sky. “It’s a stray.”

  “We’re not going to shoot it. That’s illegal.”

  “Dude, what we’re doing is already illegal.”

  “You don’t shoot somebody’s dog just because it’s lost. You wouldn’t really do that, would you?”

  Something about this situation made me hesitate to approach any closer. The boys didn’t sound angry but they did seem tense with each other. The pipe drooped. “What the hell, Warren. I don’t know. Probably not,” he mumbled.

  “I mean, Jesus. We came out here to shoot bottles.”

  “You shot at that crow,” the boy with the pipe said.

  “Yeah, a crow, not a dog. And I missed.”

  “How do you know I wouldn’t miss the dog?”

  “Here, boy! Here!” The sack-boy slapped his legs.

  “It’s female,” said the other boy. The acrid tang from his pipe was on his hands and clothing.

  “Okay, I see that now, dude,” Sack-boy said. “How are you, girl, huh? What are you doing way out here, are you lost?” I sniffed his hands carefully. He did not have food in his pockets, but his fingers smelled as if they had been holding pungent meat recently. I licked them for confirmation. Yes! This boy had access to good dog treats!

  “So now what?” asked the boy with the pipe.

  “I’ve got some beef jerky back at the car.”

  “Hang on.” The boy with the pipe raised it to his shoulder and lay his head on it. I watched curiously, then jumped when a roar burst from the pipe’s end, filling the air with the same caustic stench.

  “It’s okay, girl,” Sack-boy said to me. “Hey, nice shot.”

  We went for a walk then, but I was off leash and ran ahead, nose to the ground as I picked up the trail of some small rodent. I heard the boys talking and treading steadily behind me on the trail. I understood that for the moment I was with them, just as I had temporarily been with Jose and Loretta. Perhaps, until I was back with Lucas, I would be with other people on a short-term basis.

  The sack-boy was Warren, and the other was named Dude. Sometimes, though, Dude called Warren “Dude,” which was confusing to me. We strolled through warm green grasses to a car and when Warren opened it a delicious odor floated out. We’d found the dog treats, they were in the car! “Want some beef jerky, girl?”

  I was so excited I was spinning in circles, but then I sat down to show I could be a good dog. Warren handed me a chewy, smoky piece of meat that I quickly swallowed.

  “She’s really hungry,” Dude observed. “Has to be, to eat that crap.”

  “I’ve seen you eat it,” Warren said.

  “I didn’t eat it because it was good, I ate it because it was available.”

  “You want some now?”

  “Yeah.”

  Both boys ate some of the dog snacks, which I found both odd and disturbing. With all the wonderful foods people can pick from, why would they take away the treats from a deserving good dog?

  “What kind of dog is it, you think?” Warren asked.

  “Dude, no idea,” Dude replied. “So what, you have a dog now?”

  “No, ’course not,” Warren answered. “My mom wouldn’t let me have a dog.”

  I glanced at Warren. Mom? Did he know Mom?

  “What do we do, then?” Dude wanted to know. He squinted up at the sun.

  “Well, we can’t just leave her out here,” Warren said. “She probably belongs to somebody. I mean, she’s got a collar. She maybe got separated from her owners.”

  “So like what?” Dude asked. “We take her with us?”

  “Maybe call somebody?”

  “So you’re like, ‘We were on the Colorado Trail shooting at beer bottles and we found this giant dog, can you come pick her up?’”

  “Okay. No.”

  “No which part?”

  Warren grinned. “We leave out the target practice. Look, maybe there’s even a reward or something. We should call it in.”

  “Except how long is that going to take?”

  “I don’t know, dude, I’m just figuring it out, here.”

  “Because I got to be at work at four thirty.”

  “I don’t even know if they would send somebody out here anyway. How ’bout this? Let’s just load her into the backseat and take her to the Silverton sheriff’s station. They’ll know what to do.”

  “You want me to voluntarily go to the sheriff’s,” Dude observed dryly.

  Both boys laughed. My attention had become focused on the crinkly package in Warren’s hand. There was still a little piece of dog snack in there. I wondered if he knew it. I was doing Sit, and now I shuffled my weight from one front paw and back to signal that such excellent behavior deserved that last fragment of meat.

  “Come on, girl!” Warren called to me. He held the back door of his car open. I hesitated—I loved car rides, but this felt strange. Where was he taking me? But then Warren rustled the bag and tossed the last morsel into his car and I knew what would be the correct decision. I bounded onto the backseat and the boys climbed in the front and that was it: we were off on a car ride.

  We were a long distance from Lucas. I could smell home, and it was far, far away. But maybe that was where the boys were taking me.

  * * *

  I lifted my nose up to the crack in the window, pulling in the clear, clean fragrances from outside. I could tell we were heading toward a town because the combination of aromas grew stronger and stronger, but I also smelled many animals, most completely foreign to me.

  I was not enjoying this car ride as much as when Olivia drove. Neither of the boys had repeated Mom’s name, nor had they mentioned anyone else I recognized. This was what some people did—they took dogs for car rides, because having a dog along made things more fun. But I had been driven places before, which, upon arrival, were new and not home.

  “So you do know I don’t have exactly the best relationship with the San Juan Sheriff’s Department,” Dude told Warren.

  “It’s not like they’re going to take our fingerprints. We’re just dropping off a dog.”

  “What if they find the rifle in the trunk?”

  “Dude, why would they look in the trunk? Quit being so paranoid. And anyway, there’s no law against having a gun, it’s our constitutional amendment.”

  “We weren’t supposed to be shooting in the national forest, though,” Dude said worriedly. I picked up the anxiety in his voice and glanced at him curiously.<
br />
  “How would they even know about that? Gimme a break. God.” Warren snorted derisively. “You think they’re going to find the bottles and do forensics or something?”

  “It’s just we had one thing going and now we’re driving to see the cops.”

  “You want, you can wait in the car with the dog.”

  We rode for a time in silence. There was a stale smell of ashes in the automobile’s interior, so I kept my nose at the window. Eventually we slowed, making a few turns, and then stopped. The motor stopped running, all vibrations and noises ceasing. I went from one window to the other in the backseat, but could not see any reason for us to be parked here with a few other cars and no other dogs.

  “So do we just go in with her?” Dude asked.

  “I dunno. No, let’s go in and tell them, see what they say. Maybe there’s a reward’s been posted,” Warren said.

  “Right. You said that.”

  “Stranger things have happened.”

  The window suddenly slid down, so that I could stick my entire head out!

  “Why did you do that?” Dude demanded.

  “Because it’s sunny. Obviously we’re not going to bring a deputy out here and the dog is all closed up in a car,” Warren said patiently. “That’s like a known animal abuse. Even on a cool day like this, they can overheat.” Warren reached over and rubbed my head and I licked the meaty taste off his palm. “Okay, girl. You stay here, okay? You’ll be okay. We’re going to come right back. We’ll help you find your home, okay? Everything is going to be fine.”

  I did not understand the words but the tone was familiar. When people left their dogs, their voices often carried the same inflection. When Lucas did Go to Work, he sounded like this. I felt a sharp pain, remembering.

  “What if nobody comes to claim her?” Dude wanted to know.

  “I’m sure somebody will. She’s a beautiful dog.”

  “Still. What then?”

  “I guess … I don’t know. Maybe she’ll get adopted?” Warren said hopefully.

  “Or put down. Like, we’re taking her to the gas chamber.”

  “Well, you got any better ideas? You were going to shoot her.”