Max's Story

by W. Bruce Cameron

  I looked out past the wire of the pen, wondering about the girl. My girl. I’d seen her here before. Would she be back this time? I had to be ready. If she came, I had to be sure that she’d see me.

  Three times people came to my pen and reached their hands down inside it. None of these hands belonged to the girl, so I slunk away and growled. Each time the hands drew back.

  “What happened? Was he abused?” a man asked Gail.

  “No, he was born in the shelter. I don’t know. Max is just … not that friendly. He doesn’t play well with other dogs, either. He needs to find the right person. I think he’d do well with someone who stays at home and doesn’t get many visitors.”

  “Well, that’s not me!” the man said, laughing. He went over to the pen with the other dogs and I saw him scoop up a white puppy with eyes that were nearly invisible in puffs of fuzzy fur.

  Then I looked away and saw her.

  She did not have the other dogs with her this time. She was by herself, wearing a backpack, walking quickly, looking down at the ground.

  I yipped. She kept walking.

  I barked louder. I clawed at the wire of my pen. She had to notice me this time! I barked even louder, making it a command. It was the kind of bark that made even the grown-up dogs at the shelter take a step back from me.

  And it worked. The girl looked up, and her head swung around. She saw me.

  She paused. She smiled. And she came over to my pen.

  Everything was all right! She’d found me!

  The girl knelt down. She put her fingers through the wire and rubbed my ears gently. She chuckled.

  “Hey, there, tiny thing,” she said. “You’ve got a big bark for such a little guy.”

  I let her scratch my neck for a minute. She was very good at it. Her fingers knew just the right spots.

  “Oh, be careful!” said a voice from behind her. “That’s Max. He’s…”

  Gail’s words trailed off as the girl scratched harder and I leaned against her hand.

  “Aggressive,” Gail finished. “Huh. He seems to like you a lot.”

  “He’s sweet,” the girl said.

  “Believe me, nobody has ever called Max sweet before. Are you interested in adopting a dog?”

  The girl looked up. “Oh, I wish I could. But I already have a dog. I mean, not now … I don’t have her right now … I mean, I’m just in New York for the summer. My dog’s at home. I’m sorry.”

  She’d stopped scratching. I licked at her fingers to remind her to start again—or maybe to reach into the pen and get me so we could be together.

  But for some reason the girl didn’t seem to understand. She pulled her hand away and stood up.

  “Sorry. I wish I could,” she said to Gail.

  “I wish you could, too,” Gail answered.

  The girl sighed. “I have to go,” she muttered.

  And then she left.

  She walked away!

  My girl was leaving without me!

  3

  I whined and scratched at the wire of the pen. I barked to let the girl know she’d made a mistake. But she didn’t turn around. She just pushed her hands into her pockets and walked faster.

  Gail sighed. She pulled a leash out of her pocket and reached down into my pen.

  “I’m sorry, Max,” she said sadly. “So, so sorry. But it looks like this just isn’t going to work out.”

  She clipped the leash onto my collar and picked me up. That’s when I saw my chance.

  I snapped, my teeth closing so close to Gail’s fingers that I could almost taste her skin. She gasped and her grip on me loosened. One squirm, one push with my back legs, and I was free!

  I was also falling.

  I thumped to the ground and staggered. Gail dropped to her knees and grabbed for my collar. But I didn’t let her touch me. I got my balance back, and then I leaped and dodged and ran as fast as I could, the leash trailing behind me.

  I had to get to my girl!

  I jumped off the grass and onto a winding path. My girl had gone this way and I had to follow.

  There were feet all around me—some in sandals, some in sneakers, some in shiny shoes with high heels. One pair of feet was even in shoes with wheels! Those zipped past me so quickly that the wind they made ruffled my fur and made my ears twitch.

  Some of the feet jumped aside as I ran past. Others stood still and I darted around them. “Catch him!” I heard Gail’s voice call faintly behind me. But I ran on.

  Huge wheels three times as tall as I was whizzed past me—a person on a bike. I swerved to one side, off the path and onto the grass. “Watch out!” I heard the rider shout, and the bike wobbled. I heard something crash to the asphalt, but I didn’t look back to see what had happened. I was running again.

  The grass was easier to run on, I discovered—softer for my paws and with fewer feet to dodge. But up ahead there was one set of feet, and I was rapidly getting closer to them.

  Just as I got ready to dart around the feet, something huge and blue and wiggly came down from above. Long tubes of bright color, twisted together, wobbled and jiggled in the breeze. It smelled dreadful—a rubbery, unnatural smell. “Want a balloon animal, little pup?” rumbled a voice.

  I skidded to a stop, stiff-legged. I growled, my fur bristling.

  The man holding the threatening object shook it at me and laughed. “Just a doggy like you!” he said.

  The thing lurched at my face. I lunged forward and bit. This time it was not a warning—I meant it. This thing was attacking me!

  My sharp teeth made contact. That would teach this dreadful thing to stay away from me!

  A deafening bang exploded in my ears, and my legs took off running in spite of me. I would never run away from another dog, but this thing wasn’t a dog. It was horrible!

  Without planning to, I dashed under some bushes and squirmed beneath their lowest branches. I was small enough to do this without even slowing down—at least not much. When I burst out again, I was on a sidewalk. Straight in front of me was a street, and crossing the street—there she was! My girl!

  Her back was to me. She couldn’t hear me bark. But I was so close to her now! I raced across the sidewalk and, without slowing down for a second, sailed off the curb.

  Now instead of feet, I was surrounded by tires, all of them motionless. They were much bigger than I was and smelled a little like that terrifying blue thing back in the park, but worse. A dirty, burned smell choked my nose as I ran.

  When I was halfway across the street, the tires started moving.

  “Watch out for that dog!” somebody shouted.

  A tire was coming right at me! I was faster than it was, though, and I scooted out of the way, ducking underneath a heavy truck.

  I was beginning to pant, and the air on the street tasted as bad as it smelled. But I forced my legs to move as quickly as possible—I had to!—and I darted out from under the truck before it could pick up too much speed. Another curb was right ahead.

  Then something yanked at my neck. My leash! I flopped back onto my hind legs as one of the tires behind me drove over the leash, holding me back.

  In a moment the tire rolled on, though, and I was free. I heaved my front paws up on the curb, scrabbled at the concrete with my claws, and crawled up on shaking legs. My throat ached where the leash had pulled so hard on my collar. I stood, trembling from my wild run and panting for breath.

  I looked around for my girl.

  There she was, not twenty feet away from me! She’d left the sidewalk and turned down a smaller walkway that led to the front door of a tall building. Two glass panels in the wall slid open right where she was standing.

  I was so tired, but I knew I had to catch up. I forced myself into a dead run again. The drag from the leash slowed me down a little, but I pushed myself to keep moving. I raced down the walkway after my girl, too out of breath even to bark.

  She stepped inside the building. The glass doors slid shut behind her.

 
Frantically, I threw myself against the doors. I gasped in a big breath and barked as loudly as I could.

  The doors did not open for me. They stayed shut, and my girl could not hear me.

  Footsteps came up behind me. “Hey, little dog, where do you belong?” said a voice.

  I glanced up to see a man in a yellow shirt standing there. He was reaching down and I thought I’d have to show him, just like I’d shown all those people in the park, that I was Max—not a dog to be picked up by just anybody. But before I could do it, the glass doors in front of me suddenly slid open.

  I tore inside, looking for my girl.

  The floor was slick under my feet. I skittered and slid, my claws spread wide, and looked around frantically.

  Then I saw her. She was standing in a tiny room with a light on over her head. Her eyes went wide and her mouth fell open a little when she saw me.

  In front of her, two doors started to inch shut, just as the glass doors had done before. I wasn’t going to let that happen to me again!

  I gripped the slippery floor hard with my claws, braced myself, and leaped in with her, jumping up to put my paws on her knees, sobbing for breath as the doors slid shut behind me.

  “Oh no!” the girl gasped.

  Suddenly my leash yanked hard on my neck for a second time, dragging me down to the floor. I let out a strangled yelp of surprise and pain.

  “You’re caught!” the girl cried out. She dropped to her knees. I pulled hard against the leash, trying to go to her, but something was steadily hauling me backward.

  My mouth opened but no sound came out. My collar had cut off my air. I couldn’t breathe.

  “Oh no, no, no!” the girl whimpered. She grabbed hold of my collar, too. This wasn’t helping! I gagged as she pulled on the collar in one direction and the leash pulled in the other.

  Then, with a snap, the collar broke open in the girl’s hands. My leash whipped back through the crack between the doors and vanished, and I flopped against the cool floor, breathing hard and shaking.

  “Oh, puppy,” the girl said, and her voice was shaking, too. “You could have been killed!” Very carefully, she picked me up and held me close to her chest. Her smell was all around me, comforting and soothing, and I felt better at once. I smelled other dogs on her skin and a new scent I hadn’t met before—some kind of animal that I had never seen.

  I licked at her face and neck to let her know that I was okay. Everything was okay, now that we were together.

  But I hoped she’d learned her lesson and wouldn’t leave me behind again.

  4

  “You’re that little puppy from the park, aren’t you?” the girl said as she got to her feet, holding me in her arms, close to her face. I didn’t really understand her words, but I was glad just to hear her voice.

  I could hear kindness in it, and I could feel the same kindness in her hands and the careful way she held me. Kindness flowed out of her, surrounding me. It made me relax against her with a sigh. I’d known the right person for me would be kind, and now I was proven right.

  She pushed a button on the wall and the little room seemed to shift and rumble. It was strange, but I wasn’t worried anymore. There was nothing to worry about now.

  The doors slid open, and the man in the blue coat I’d seen outside was standing there. “Hey, CJ,” he said. “Is that your dog? I wasn’t sure who he belonged to.”

  The girl—I guessed her name was CJ—shook her head. “No, he’s not mine. But he jumped into the elevator with me.”

  The man reached out a hand toward me, and I gave him a warning growl. I couldn’t tell if he meant to touch me or CJ, but either way, he needed to watch out. Nobody was going to touch CJ, not when I was around.

  The man pulled his hand back. “Spunky!” he said.

  My name was Max, not Spunky. I ignored him.

  “I think he came from the adoption event over in the park,” the girl said. “I’ll take him back.”

  She carried me outside and kept me secure in her arms as we crossed the street and headed back into the park. It was funny to be riding so high. Now, instead of feet and wheels, I could see faces. Most of them looked straight ahead, maybe frowning a little. Those belonged to people who walked quickly, as if they didn’t have time to waste.

  A few strolled more slowly, glancing around. Some of those looked at me in CJ’s arms and smiled.

  We passed by the man holding the dreadful bright-colored, rubbery things that had made such a loud noise earlier. I dug my whole head under CJ’s arm to stay away from them. When I finally pulled my head out, the breeze wafted a familiar scent to my nose.

  Dogs. Puppies, mostly. Their fur smelled like disinfectant and food and each other. The dogs from the shelter. I squirmed in CJ’s arms and tucked my face into her neck. The shelter had not been a bad place, not really, not once I’d shown everyone that they needed to respect me. But it seemed strange to be going back that way, now that I had found my girl.

  By this time I could hear the few puppies left in the pen barking away. “Um. Hi. Excuse me,” CJ said. “I think this is one of your dogs?”

  “It’s Max!” Gail said from behind me. “Oh, thank goodness. I can’t believe you found him! We’ve been looking all over the park!”

  “He jumped right into an elevator with me,” said CJ. “His leash got caught, and I was scared he was going to get strangled.” She shuddered a little and I nuzzled her skin and licked at her ear. “He’s adorable!” She stroked my back.

  “That isn’t what most people say about him,” Gail said. I snuck a look over my shoulder at her and wagged my tail, letting her know that I was happy now. She could go back to taking care of all the other dogs.

  “So anyway,” CJ said. “Where do you want me to put him?”

  “Honestly?” Gail said. “I don’t want you to put him anywhere.”

  There was a little pause.

  “I can’t,” CJ said sadly. I licked more of her ear so she’d remember I was there to take care of her. There was no need to be sad. “I know you’re looking for homes for the dogs, and I wish I could,” CJ went on. “But I already have a dog at home. Molly. She’s the best.”

  “So you like dogs?”

  “Well, sure.” CJ laughed. “Who doesn’t like dogs?”

  “And Max obviously likes you. Listen, it’s not fair of me to put pressure on you like this, but Max … he’s a one-person dog. He’s aggressive with everybody he meets, but not you.”

  “Aggressive? This little thing?” CJ looked down at me in astonishment.

  “He growls. He tries to bite. He snapped at me this morning, and I’m the one who’s been feeding him. It’s so sad, but we’re not able to keep a dog like that. Tomorrow we’ll have to have him put to sleep.”

  CJ gasped. “That’s horrible!”

  Gail sighed. I could not understand why the two of them were so sad. Why didn’t CJ put me down so I could run? Why didn’t the two of us go and play in the grass? Why were she and Gail just standing there saying words that neither of them seemed to enjoy?

  “Well, sure it is,” Gail said. “It is horrible. I don’t like it any more than you do. But we’re full. We have new dogs coming in every day. If we kept every dog we can’t find a home for, we could never take any new ones. And the truth is, we can’t put in the time to train a dog like Max. But if he had an owner, someone who could really work with him, I’m sure he’d be a great little dog.”

  Gail reached out and petted me. I let her do so without challenge—as long as she didn’t try to take me away from my girl, I was fine with anything. “Look,” Gail continued intently. “Dogs sometimes choose their people. We don’t know how they know, but they just know. And that’s what I think has happened with you and Max.”

  CJ looked down at me. Her eyes were moist, and a tear trickled down her cheek. I licked it up. It tasted of salt.

  “I’ve never seen him take to anyone like that,” Gail said. “But if you can’t save him, well, you can�
�t. Sometimes that’s how it goes.”

  She held out her hands.

  “No,” said CJ. She held me tighter. “No. I can’t believe I’m doing this, but okay.”

  “You’ll take him?” Gail looked delighted. “That’s great. It’s wonderful. We’ll waive the fee, don’t worry about that. I’m just glad he has a chance.”

  CJ was happy, too, even though she was feeling some fear underneath the joy. She didn’t understand yet that I was here to protect her. But I’d find a way to show her.

  Gail and CJ talked some more and then, finally, CJ left, still holding me. I was beginning to get a little restless, ready to be down and running in the grass. But I was patient. We walked back to the tall building and returned to the small room with the lights.

  I looked around alertly, remembering how my leash had been grabbed last time, but nothing bad happened. We stood in that room while the walls trembled a little and a rumbling sound came to my ears. Then the doors slid open once more. To my surprise, a new hallway was outside.

  How strange! CJ held me and we walked past several doors. I could smell different things behind each one—meat cooking, something sweet, smoke, another dog, a sharp smell like the disinfectant at the shelter. We stopped at one that smelled of the other animal I had already noticed on CJ’s clothes.

  CJ shifted me to one arm so that she could take out a key from her pocket, turned it in the door, and opened it. We went inside.

  CJ shut the door and set me down. At last! I shook myself and bowed to stretch my legs and began to investigate this new place.

  There was a soft carpet on the floor that was excellent for holding scents. I could smell the rubber of CJ’s shoes and another person, too, who smelled flowery and powdery and soapy. She didn’t seem to be here at the moment, but clearly she spent a lot of time here.

  That animal smell was very strong, too. It was female—I could sense that—but I wasn’t sure of much else about it. It was something strange. Something new.

  I sniffed around a couch and a big, soft chair and then headed into another room with a lot of excellent food smells. There was a bowl on the floor with small, crunchy bits of food in it, and I stuck my nose into it happily.