Molly's Story

by W. Bruce Cameron

  I’d never bitten anyone before. I’d never even really had to threaten anyone. Sure, Rocky and I would growl when we played, and I made sure to bark when someone rang the doorbell, but those were not real threats. More just letting everyone know that I could be fierce if I needed to.

  Now I needed to.

  Somehow I knew just what to do. I put my head down low and felt my lips pulling back to show my teeth. Slowly, I walked toward Gus.

  “Hey!” Gus dropped CJ’s arm just as the door opened behind us.

  “Clarity June, I hope you’re ready to behave in a civilized manner now,” Gloria said. Then she gasped. “What is going on here?”

  Gus backed away from me. CJ dropped to her knees and caught hold of me.

  “It’s okay, Molly. It’s okay, Molly,” she whispered.

  There were tears on her face. I licked them off. They were salty and also had a funny taste from a black streak that ran along her cheeks. But she was calmer now, and I felt the fur along my back settled down where it belonged.

  “That dog’s vicious,” Gus said angrily. He went down the steps, heading toward the sidewalk. “That’s it. I’m out of here.”

  “Gus!” Gloria called after him. “Come back!”

  I knew that word. I looked up at Gloria, but I could tell that she did not want me to come to her. She was looking at me with horror.

  “Gloria, listen.” CJ lifted up her face from my fur. “Molly was—”

  “I don’t want to hear about it!” Gloria said. “We’re leaving now, Clarity. I’ll go get the car.”

  “But, Mom—”

  “Not another word!”

  “But Trent! We have to get Trent! He needs a ride home!”

  “Oh.” Gloria hesitated.

  “I’ll go get him.” CJ got to her feet.

  “You certainly will not! You look dreadful. We can’t let anyone see you like that. I’ll go. You get in the car. We’ll talk at home.”

  Gus didn’t ride home with us. Everybody in the car was very quiet. A few times Trent opened his mouth, but CJ shook her head at him, and he closed it again.

  Trent got out of the car at his house. CJ, Gloria, and I went home.

  “That dog,” Gloria said as soon as we got into the living room, “is dangerous.”

  “Molly is not dangerous!” CJ nearly shouted.

  “I saw it with my own eyes, Clarity! She was going to bite Gus!”

  “Only to protect me!”

  “Protect you!” Gloria snorted. “Why would you need protection?”

  “He grabbed my arm, Gloria! He wouldn’t let go!”

  “That is ridiculous. Gus is a gentleman. Anyway, we are not talking about Gus. We are talking about that dog.”

  She pointed at me. Her voice was tight and angry, but I could sense fear in its high pitch and in her widened eyes.

  I started to go closer to her, looking around to see if I could discover what was making her so afraid. I wanted Gloria to know that I’d protect her, too. She wasn’t as close to me as CJ—she wasn’t my girl—but she lived here in the house with us. I wouldn’t let anyone hurt her.

  “Get her away from me!” Gloria shrieked.

  CJ caught hold of my collar. “She isn’t going to do anything to you, Gloria!”

  “I want her out. Outside! Put her in the yard, Clarity June. This instant! Then we are going to talk more!”

  “Okay, okay,” CJ said. She pulled at my collar, and I followed her out into the yard. Maybe we would stay there and chase balls or roll in the grass. Anything would be better than more of those angry, frightened words.

  CJ bent low and put both her hands on my head. She kissed me.

  “Don’t worry, Molly,” my girl whispered. “I won’t let her do anything to you.”

  Then she slipped back through the door into the house and shut it in my face.

  I was so astonished, I sat down in the grass and didn’t even bark.

  What had happened? Why had my girl left me out here in the yard?

  This didn’t make sense. I could tell that CJ needed me. She was upset and worried and afraid. Maybe nobody was pulling on her arm right now, but there was still something making her feel anxious. And I needed to help.

  I remembered what to do. I barked to let CJ know she’d made a mistake and left me outside. Then I waited for the door to open.

  It didn’t open.

  This was very strange. I barked some more, as loudly as I could. Then I scratched at the door, trying to see if I could push it open myself. It didn’t move.

  So I kept barking.

  Surely CJ would figure it out. She’d come to get me. This wasn’t like the old days, when she’d leave me under the stairs. That time was over. She’d be back to get me. She’d be back soon.

  But it wasn’t soon. It was a very long time before CJ came back.

  Everything was dark and all the lights in the neighborhood houses were out when a last—at last!—the door creaked open.

  “Molly!” CJ whispered.

  I raced to the door and threw myself inside, leaping on my girl. She sat on the kitchen floor, holding me on her lap while I licked her face frantically, trying to let her know how long it had taken her to come and get me.

  “Shhh, Molly, shhh,” CJ whispered. “Quiet, Molly, quiet. You have to be quiet.”

  I knew that old command. I sat down in CJ’s lap and looked up at her face in appeal. Surely we weren’t going to play that game anymore, were we? I thought CJ had learned her lesson about that!

  It seemed I was right. What a relief! CJ took me up in her arms and carried me up the stairs to her bedroom. She moved slowly and cautiously from each step to the next, and tiptoed down the hall to her bedroom.

  Once we were there, she tucked me under the covers. Because I felt that my girl still needed me to watch over her, I lay curled against her side. She rested a hand on my fur. I stayed awake until her body relaxed against mine, and I heard her breathing grow soft and deep.

  Then I fell asleep, too, where I belonged, next to my girl.

  13

  The next morning, while the house was still quiet and dark, CJ picked me up and hurried down the stairs with me. She took me into the backyard again, and brought my food and water bowls out there, too. Then she went inside.

  I tried a bark or two, reminding her to come and get me. But then I got busy eating my breakfast, and after breakfast I was full enough to curl up in the grass for a little nap. I woke when CJ hurried outside once more, wearing her backpack. She knelt and hugged me and kissed me. “Don’t worry, Molly,” she whispered. “I’ll think of something.” And then she ran out of the gate and down the sidewalk.

  I’d figured out that, when CJ wore her backpack, she was going to do school and would not be home for a while. I returned to my nap.

  A while later, the door creaked open.

  It seemed early for CJ to be back. I looked up in surprise. No CJ. Gloria stood in the doorway.

  I could tell she was still afraid. I got to my feet, sniffing, and checked all around the yard for a threat, but I couldn’t find a thing.

  “Want a piece of roast beef?” Gloria said.

  I took a step toward her, then stopped. I could hear the question in her voice, but I didn’t know if it meant I was in trouble or not.

  “Here,” she said. She tossed something in the grass a few feet in front of me. My nose twitched as a delicious smell reached it—rich and savory and wonderful. I bounded over to the piece of meat that Gloria had dropped and snatched it up, eating it in two bites.

  Marvelous!

  I looked back up at Gloria. I tried wagging my tail, to see how she’d respond.

  “Want another one?” she asked. She pitched a second piece to me.

  I jumped to it and ate it, too. I must be a good dog, to get two treats at once!

  Then Gloria shut the door. I sat down and sighed. No more treats?

  About a minute later, Gloria called from the front of the house. “Yoo-hoo,
Molly! Dog, want another treat?”

  I knew my name! I knew the word “dog”! I knew “treat”! I bounded over to the gate and found that it was open. Happily, I trotted along the side of the house to the front yard. Gloria was standing in the driveway.

  “Treat,” she said again. I wagged harder. She tossed a piece of meat in my direction. This time I was ready for it, and I leaped to snag it out of the air. This was a wonderful game! As far as I was concerned, we could play it forever.

  Gloria opened the door to the backseat of the car. “Okay, want to get in, dog? Treat?”

  I thought I understood what she meant. Something to do with treats and the car. Hesitantly, I made my way over to the open door. Gloria tossed two pieces of meat on the floor of the backseat, and I scrambled in. I heard the car door slam behind me as I ate.

  Then Gloria got into the front seat and started the car. We drove off.

  I finished my treats and hopped up onto the seat. Gloria gave a nervous little gasp and looked around at me, but then returned her attention to the road. I stared out the window for a while, wishing it was open so that I could stick my nose in the crack and drink in all the rushing smells that were passing by. But the window was closed, and it was no fun smelling the glass. Plus, my belly was full, and it seemed there would be no more treats right now. I curled up on the seat for my second nap of the morning.

  After I’d had a nice sleep, I felt the car stop. I stood up and shook myself, my collar rattling. The sound of the engine died away. The car became still.

  Gloria twisted around in her seat so that I could see her face. “Careful now,” she said. “Remember, I fed you a treat? You be nice, Molly.”

  I wagged at my name and the word “treat.” Gloria’s hands reached for me over the seat. I sniffed at them. They still smelled good, but there was no meat in them. I heard a sudden click, and my collar dropped off and landed on the seat between my front paws.

  I lowered my nose and gave it a good sniff. It was hard to smell the thing when it was hanging around my neck. But it mostly smelled like me, and that was not too interesting. I already knew what I smelled like.

  Gloria got out of the car and opened my door. “Come along. Heel. Be a good dog. Don’t run off,” she said.

  I wagged for being a good dog and jumped out of the car.

  We were in a parking lot. There was a strong odor of dogs everywhere. I looked all around, but I couldn’t see any of the dogs who’d clearly been here not long before.

  Gloria began walking toward a building. I followed her. The scent of dogs became stronger and stronger. And they did not smell happy. I could smell fear and loneliness and anger, and it made me nervous. I crowded closer to Gloria’s heels. She started walking quicker.

  Together, we hurried through a door. Gloria let it shut behind us. We were in a small room with a desk; behind the desk was a second door, this one open. Through it I could hear more than a dozen dogs barking. And the smell was even worse here. I backed toward the door to the parking lot, hoping we’d go home soon. CJ was probably waiting for me.

  “Hello? Hello?” Gloria called.

  A woman came through the open door. She smiled. “Yes? Can I help you?”

  “I found this poor dog abandoned in the streets,” Gloria said. “There’s no telling how long he’s been living like that, alone and far, far away from his family. Is this where you drop off lost dogs?”

  Gloria and the woman talked for a few minutes, and then Gloria left. The door swished shut behind her.

  I looked after her, a little puzzled. Gloria wasn’t like CJ—she wasn’t my girl—but I had a feeling I should have gone with her. I went over to the door and barked once. Maybe she’d forgotten about me? Would she come back and open the door?

  The new woman came up to me and offered me her hand to sniff. She smelled like soap and other dogs. I gave her a quick sniff and a lick, just to be polite, but I wasn’t very interested. I wanted Gloria to come back so we could leave.

  The new woman put a new collar around my neck. “Come on, now, girl,” she said.

  She walked away. I stayed by the door.

  “Come on,” she said again, and she reached out and tugged at my new collar. I got the idea that I was supposed to go with her. It was confusing, but I wanted to be a good dog. I followed her through the other door.

  The place where the new woman took me was a little like the room where CJ and I sometimes played with Andi. There were pens there, and lots of dogs. But no people sitting in chairs for me to sniff. And no Andi. And no CJ.

  The woman put me in a pen with a cement floor. Then she shut the door and left.

  I stared after her in astonishment. What was going on here?

  Someone, somewhere, had made a mistake. I was sure of it.

  Inside the cage, there was a wooden box with a roof and a door. I poked my head inside, just to see what it was like. A piece of carpet was on the floor of the box, and obviously several other dogs had slept there before I got here.

  None of them had been happy.

  I pulled my head out of the box and looked around. The place was filled with the sound of barking. Tiny dogs yipped. Big dogs bayed and bellowed. To my right was an empty cage; to my left was a large brown hound with floppy ears who lay on the cement floor, occasionally putting up his head and opening his mouth to join in the din.

  I barked a little, too. I couldn’t help it. But no one came to let me out of the cage.

  No one came to let any of the dogs out. But we could not help barking anyway, letting the humans know what they should do.

  At last all the barking seemed to have an effect. The woman who’d put me in this cage came back. I rushed to her, wagging frantically, and to my delight she opened the door of my cage.

  Thank goodness she’d come to let me out. I didn’t like being here. It was loud, and the cement floor was cold, and I wanted to be close to CJ. If I couldn’t play with her and feel her hands in my fur, at least I wanted to curl up in her bed and sniff the sheets that smelled like her and wait like a good dog for her to be done doing school and come back home.

  But the woman didn’t seem to understand that I needed to go home to my girl. Deftly, she blocked the door with her body, trapping me inside. Then she set a bowl of food and another of water on the floor of my cage. Reaching in, she petted me gently, but she wouldn’t let me get out. Then she shut the cage door again.

  I sniffed at the food, but I wasn’t hungry. I’d emptied my dog bowl in the backyard and had all those pieces of meat besides. Anyway, I missed CJ so much that I couldn’t even care about food.

  I found myself pacing back and forth, whimpering a little. Then I crawled into the box with the carpet inside and tried to sleep, but it was impossible.

  The barking that filled the air was full of fear. It had some anger in it, too, some sadness, some pain. When I barked, I could hear my own plea to be let out of the cage, to run, to play, to find my girl again.

  Hours went past. CJ still didn’t come to get me. The woman brought me fresh water once. Then the lights were turned off. Some of the dogs slept, but I didn’t, not much. I couldn’t. I pictured myself lying at the foot of CJ’s bed. I longed for the touch of her hands on my fur and the familiar and wonderful scent of her skin.

  In the morning, a man came with fresh food. I ate a few bites while he watched from outside the cage. Then he opened the door again.

  I looked up alertly, tensing my muscles, ready to spring out. But he blocked the door just as the woman had done yesterday. He reached out and snapped a leash onto my collar.

  And then—my heart leaped with joy!—he held the door to my cage open.

  I threw myself outside and tried to run, but the leash snapped me back. I didn’t care about the pressure around my neck. I leaned into the leash as hard as I could until I was nearly towing the man down the hall. All the other dogs barked and barked as we went past.

  The man brought me to a small room where a woman was waiting. She boos
ted me up on a slick metal table, just as CJ would do when I went to Dr. Marty’s. I didn’t mind the vet so much if CJ was there with me, but this was all strange and new. I held my ears and my tail low to show I was no threat, hoping that no one would hurt me. And maybe the woman understood, because she patted me and spoke in a low, gentle voice.

  Then the man took hold of my head, holding me on both sides of my face so that I couldn’t move. The woman picked up a stick and moved it close to my head. Was it a toy to chew? I didn’t know. The man held on, and I couldn’t get a good look.

  “Got a hit,” the woman said.

  “I knew she’d be chipped,” the man said.

  Then he boosted me down and took me back to my cage.

  My cage! I couldn’t believe it. I thought these people had understood that this cage was no place for me. Instead they’d brought me straight back! I was too disappointed even to walk the few steps to the box and the scrap of carpet. I just flopped to the cold cement floor with a groan. I chewed on the edge of the doghouse a little, but even that did not make me feel better.

  A few hours later the man came back. “Hello, Molly,” he said from the door to my cage.

  He’d said my name. My name! Just hearing it seemed to bring CJ closer to me. She was the one who said my name most often and with the most love. I sat up, wagging.

  He opened the door. When I ran to him, he clipped a leash to my collar. “Come on, girl. Someone’s here to see you.”

  The man took me down the hall between rows of frantic, barking dogs. The minute he opened the door at the end I could smell the scent I loved most in the world. CJ was here at last!

  I barreled into the small room where I’d last seen Gloria, pulling my leash right out of the man’s hand. My girl! My girl had come! She was standing near the door. I threw myself at her, and she fell to her knees and put her arms around me.

  “Molly. Molly. Oh, Molly,” she said.

  I kissed her face and then wiggled free. It was so wonderful to be held by CJ that I could have stayed forever, but at the same time, I was so excited that I simply had to run.

  I tore around and around CJ, the leash trailing behind me and winding around my girl. My relief and happiness came out in little whimpering barks. CJ laughed and wiped her face. “Good dog, Molly. You sit. Sit, now.”